Chapter 90

EP.90 The Practical Exam Where Screams Echo (1)

Victory is sweet.

Defeat is bitter, but there is much to learn.

Rak, in the North, you have already learned much. Among the children of your age in the North, there is no one who can match you. You are an excellent warrior.

To have a decent fight with you, to teach you defeat... inevitably, my warriors under me must step forward. However, it is only natural for you to defeat them. Don't you think so yourself?

They have lived as warriors for decades.

Defeating them is not a disgrace. It does not make you angry. On the contrary, it is an honor to fight them.

No, that must not be, Rak.

A warrior learns from defeat. Learning from defeat means feeling anger from being defeated.

Anger from defeat.

The passion to seek ways to win.

The confidence that next time, you will win.

That is the driving force of a warrior.

And the anger from defeat... can only be felt from someone on your level.

There is no one in the North who can give you that.

So, go to the capital.

Meet many people, lose, win, and thus... learn and come back.

“...”

Eryahal van Grace.

Rak, recalling the words of his father, the great warrior and Duke of the North, looked around.

It was an open sparring room.

There were not many students watching the sparring, but there were not few either. They were looking at Rak, holding their breath.

More accurately, they were looking at Rak's neck.

Rak lowered his gaze. A dagger had stopped right in front of his throat. Though it was just a wooden imitation, the fact that it had stopped in front of Rak's neck did not change.

In contrast, where was his axe?

It was only at shoulder height.

Far. Far too far to strike the opponent's neck. If he moved his axe even a little, the dagger would surely pierce him.

'Is that so.'

Rak opened his hand that had been holding the axe.

The wooden axe clattered as it fell to the ground. Dropping a weapon signifies surrender.

Though humiliating, it is something a warrior must do.

Rak raised his hands above his head, still holding the axe. Then, he spoke to his opponent in front of him.

“...I lost.”

Only then did the opponent put away the dagger.

He took a short breath and stepped back. His black hair swayed.

“Victory for Belnoa.”

2.

Roselle put down her coffee cup.

The table trembled slightly as the cup was placed down. The shoulders of the girl sitting opposite her also trembled.

“So.”

Roselle spoke.

“Did you handle the matter well, Lanier?”

“Yes, yes?”

“Do you know? Lanier? I, and the Trias family, insist on political neutrality. We know that interfering in politics is not good. Thanks to that, I don't hear much about the royal family.”

That was true.

The rumors that reached Roselle were only those known to all nobles.

“But, by chance...”

Roselle smiled faintly.

The smile was somewhat eerie, so Lanier slowly lowered her gaze.

“I heard a rumor, you know?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Indeed, right after your mission to protect the First Princess ended, a rumor spread.”

“T-That's quite a coincidence...”

“Isn't it?”

Roselle narrowed her eyes.

“The First Princess is starting to arrest the heads of various departments.”

Thud.

“It seems something invaded the royal court mage's laboratory, but there was no trace of intrusion, so they are seeking external help for consultation...”

Thud.

“It seems an indentation, as if from a punch, was found in the secondary palace...”

Each time Roselle thumped the table, Lanier's head lowered a bit. When her head was almost touching the table, Roselle chuckled.

“You really handled things quietly, Lanier.”

“A-Ahaha...”

“Don't laugh.”

“Yes...”

Roselle took off her glasses and placed them down.

She sighed deeply, resting her forehead on her hand.

“Lately, I have one suspicion.”

“...Suspicion?”

“That my beloved disciple, my only disciple, might not be listening to me at all. That's my suspicion.”

“...”

Lanier was silent.

Only cold sweat formed on her forehead. Looking at her, Roselle finally smiled bitterly.

“Because of you, I can't live to my full potential, you brat.”

It always ended up like this.

Watching her disciple's antics, she could only sigh. However, she couldn't just scold her for it.

‘After all, she somehow manages to resolve things.’

This time was no different.

Though she didn't know what kind of magic she used, the incident seemed to be resolved, and no one mentioned the name ‘Lania’.

‘It's a mystery, even to me.’

She was just worried.

Even though she knew it was unnecessary interference, she couldn't help but nag.

“Phew...”

Roselle sighed, then, to lighten the mood, she offered Lanier the coffee cup. Lanier, who had been staring at the cup, finally spoke.

“I'll have the coffee later...”

“I know your taste in coffee is unnecessarily picky. This is from the café you like, so just drink it.”

“Oh...”

Roselle, resting her chin on her hand, watched Lanier take a sip.

“So, what do you think of the First Princess?”

“She's quite unique.”

“Unique?”

“So unique that I felt a bit swayed by her.”

Swayed? This girl?

Roselle blinked in surprise.

‘...I heard she was extraordinary, but it seems she exceeded my imagination.’

Thinking this, Roselle adjusted her perception of the princess's danger in her mind.

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the professor's door.

“Who is it?”

-It's MacHart. I have something to discuss with Professor Lania, so I came here.

“Wait a moment.”

Roselle quickly turned her head and glared at Lanier. Lanier immediately understood the meaning in her gaze.

‘What did you do this time?’

The gaze seemed to ask.

Lanier shook her head vigorously in response.

“I didn't do anything...!”

Her voice was filled with indignation.

3.

The founder of the Battle Mage class.

Lanier van Trias looked at the professor sitting opposite her. The familiar professor was in his seat.

‘Professor MacHart.’

The professor of Combat Magic and the person who had taught her much. Looking at him, Lanier recalled an old memory.

‘...Now that I think about it, didn't he tell me I lacked fundamentals?’

Now that she knew the true nature of the Battle Mage class, it was a lot to think about.

‘Damn, a class without fundamentals...’

Since the founder lacked fundamentals, it was inevitable that the class would be called a class without fundamentals. Suppressing a sigh, Lanier spoke.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Well, do you see this?”

MacHart pointed to his left arm.

He extended his splinted left arm as if it were a war wound and smiled bitterly.

“A while back, didn't the ancient lich and the monsters attack Aphria?”

“Ah, yes. They did.”

“I heard you were unfortunately affected by the miasma and fell ill. Well, it would be difficult to withstand the miasma without experiencing the battlefield...”

“Yes?”

“It's really a shame that you couldn't use your excellent combat skills.”

MacHart nodded, truly seeming regretful.

“Well, I assisted in the battle with the knights, but... I ended up with this arm. Still, I consider it a proud wound, done for the students.”

“Ah, yes...”

‘If I had told Sara, she could have healed it...’

The words rose to her throat, but Lanier suppressed them.

“Anyway, I have an injury to my arm... and I think it will be difficult to conduct the upcoming practical exam in Combat Magic?”

“Practical exam?”

“Yes, the practical exam. Combat Magic emphasizes practical experience, so the practical exam has a higher weight than the midterm. It's quite an important exam...”

MacHart glanced at Lanier.

“Since I don't have a suitable assistant professor, I'm considering getting some external help?”

“Ah, is that so?”

“And, as far as I know, there's no professor as excellent as you... Can you help me?”

“Me?”

“You seem to have a good understanding of Combat Magic. Of course, I'm not asking you to take full responsibility.”

MacHart fumbled for some papers and held them up.

He then laid them out on the desk.

“The outline of the practical exam is already roughly decided. The structure is almost complete. The only thing left to do is to make some adjustments... or act as a supervisor.”

The papers laid out contained the exam outline.

“There are several options?”

“I've prepared several. Just choose one that seems good.”

Even before Lanier agreed, the atmosphere suggested she had already accepted the offer.

‘Well, it doesn't really matter...’

Lanier, resting her chin on her hand, scanned the papers.

She had recently learned that Combat Magic was a class modeled after her. She didn't feel a sense of responsibility... but it wasn't just someone else's business.

‘I have a personal interest too.’

She wanted to see the students of Combat Magic again. Thinking this, Lanier picked up a few papers.

“Hmm...”

The exam topics were diverse.

There were about four or five topics, each with a corresponding exam format.

“What do you think?”

“The topics are varied.”

“That's why I'm considering them. Which one would be best for evaluating the students, and which one would suit the Battle Mage class?”

MacHart asked casually.

“Professor Lania, what do you think is the foundation of a Battle Mage?”

“Well...”

Does it even have a foundation...?

Lanier stroked her chin and looked at the paper. One topic caught her eye.

“Survival?”

“Survival? It's certainly an important topic. Ultimately, for survival on the battlefield...”

“Right. Whether a finger is broken, a tongue is cut, or a mouth is torn so you can't speak... the pre-stored circuits can still activate.”

“U-Um?”

“Being quick to react means being useful for survival. If that's the foundation, then that's the foundation. You have to survive first.”

“Y-Yes, that's true.”

Lanier tapped the paper.

“About this one.”

Then she asked.

“Can I make some adjustments?”

“...Adjustments?”

“It seems a bit too simple. This way, the practical exam loses its meaning, doesn't it?”

“D-Does it?”

Lanier nodded.

“You wrote that the situation of a monster attack would be artificially created using a welcoming magical tool, and the reaction in a tense situation would be observed.”

“Yes, to observe quick reactions...”

“No, that won't do.”

She made a gesture of breaking a finger.

“What if we start with a broken finger?”

“W-What?”

“To create a situation where new circuits can't be drawn, and to observe the reaction.”

“U-Um?”

MacHart blinked.

Lanier tilted her head at him.

“Isn't that better?”

Her tone was serious, as if she truly believed it.

A thought flashed through MacHart's mind: ‘Did I choose the wrong person?’

“You said I could make some adjustments, right?”

However, by the time he had this thought, it was already too late. The girl in front of him gathered the papers and stood up.

“Yes, I'll do it.”

“No, it's not necessary that you do it...”

“You said it was hard to find someone. I'll do it.”

Gulping.

MacHart swallowed hard.

A foreboding feeling washed over him. It was more like a premonition of doom. MacHart slowly nodded.

“W-Well then... I'll leave it to you.”

Author's Note (Afterword)

The subtitle says it all :D

By the way, there's a new feature called 'Life Pick'!

Though the number of Life Picks isn't displayed, so I can't confirm how many there are... still, it seems quite a few people have given me a Life Pick.

It's a truly grateful thing.

It's a very honorable thing to think that my work can be someone's favorite. It's a great honor.

It's already episode 90.

As I'm heading towards episode 100, looking back on the past four months, it's been nothing but amazing. It's a dream-like experience to have so many people read my story.

I always write with gratitude.

It's a very common phrase, but it's true that a work exists because of its readers. I feel a bit embarrassed that only such a cliché phrase comes to mind. But I also think that the most important things are often contained in such common and cliché phrases.

Always grateful.

Always writing with passion :D