Immediately after the written test ended, Kail and Yuri, who had left the Academy, began chatting about various aspects of the exam.
Although all memory of the test questions had vanished, the emotions he felt during the exam lingered, giving him a rough sense of whether he had done well or not.
Of course, Kail remembered everything, including the test questions, without exception.
“The test was easy, wasn’t it?”
“Ahahahaha! It sure was.”
“I think I might even get a perfect score.”
“Oh, impressive.”
Yuri usually initiated the conversations. After all, she was now officially engaged with the Duke’s approval. Yuri had countless questions for her fiancé. Truly countless.
After ten years of accumulated curiosity, even her usually stiff, icy personality couldn’t stop the mountain of questions from spilling out.
“If I do well on the practical, I might even secure the top rank.”
“That would be really impressive.”
“What about you, Kail?”
“Top rank? Obviously, it’s mine.”
If a Master doesn’t claim the top rank, then who would? Kail was confident. He was certain he could score 100, no, 140 points in the practical exam.
Hearing this, Yuri expressed her admiration.
“Did you also ace the written test?”
“Huh?”
“They combine both written and practical scores for the top rank.”
“Hmm, a perfect score on the written might be tough.”
“Then it might be difficult. Rumor has it that the Academy’s written test is made easy enough for commoners to pass.”
“…Huh?”
Kail groaned, wondering what she meant, as Yuri tilted her head and explained the situation at the Academy.
Diaros Academy was created to gather talented individuals. Naturally, talent isn’t limited to just nobles.
Among commoners, there are certainly those with remarkable abilities, and even illiterate commoners could avoid failing if they studied for about a week, as was widely known about the Academy’s written exams.
Since the test was so easy, educated nobles were expected to score perfectly.
Of course, it was all just—rumors.
“…What happens if you fail?”
“Well, theoretically impossible… but if you fail the written, even a perfect practical score results in failure.”
“Ah.”
Kail sighed. What kind of nonsense rule was this?
Deciding that he must pass no matter what—even if it meant revealing his status as a Master—Kail prepared for the practical exam.
***
And so, the day of the practical exam arrived.
“I’m sure I told everyone to come at me.”
The instructor for the Academy’s Knight Department practical exam, Gawein, stepped over dozens of collapsed examinees toward those still standing, looking at him.
“Are you disobeying my orders now?”
“A-ah, no!”
“Ho, is that so? Then you’re cowards who can’t follow orders even when given them.”
“Hyaaa—!”
Some confused examinees charged at Gawein, showing good soldierly qualities but lacking knightly ones.
Gawein quickly knocked them unconscious and turned to the three remaining examinees who simply stared blankly at him.
“Why are you three still standing?”
“—Instructor, don’t underestimate us too much, or you’ll regret it.”
At that moment, an examinee next to me cautiously spoke up. Drawing his sword, he confidently approached Gawein. Sensing the Aura emanating from his blade, I realized why he was so bold.
‘…An Expert?’
“Hmm, seems like you’ve got some guts.”
It was impossible for Gawein, another Master, not to sense what I did. Smirking, Gawein eyed the unknown examinee.
“Name?”
“Hundred.”
“Good. Hundred. Come at me.”
In the next instant, Hundred surged forward, enveloped in Aura. But having experienced this before, I knew exactly how it would end.
Just as I had been defeated by Chantall, Gawein casually deflected Hundred’s sword and struck him under the chin with the hilt.
Leaving Hundred, who didn’t even realize what hit him, Gawein turned to the last two examinees.
“Do you two have anything to show me?”
“Uh, no…”
“—Not particularly.”
After everyone else had fallen, I cautiously stepped forward. The examinee trembling beside me would obviously fail, so I paid him no mind.
I moved slowly, loosening my muscles with a bit of Aura while pointing my sword at Gawein. My relaxed movements went unnoticed as my sword seamlessly locked onto Gawein’s.
Realizing belatedly that our swords were clashing, Gawein tried to pull away, but my Aura flowed into his blade faster.
“Something like this?”
“…You, what is this?”
Gawein looked at me in disbelief. I casually detached my sword and sheathed it.
Though I hadn’t directly shown evidence of being an Aura Master, he surely realized I was one. It was something I wanted to hide, but it couldn’t be helped.
‘How do you hide being a Master from another Master?’
Unless I deliberately lost, anyone who crossed blades with me would immediately recognize me as a Master—but I had no intention of throwing the fight. Besides, there was another reason I couldn’t afford to lose.
If I bombed the written test and failed the practical too, I might not even get admitted…
Had Hundred not appeared, I might have pretended to be an Expert—but with an Expert already present, only a Master-level performance would draw attention.
“I’ll take my leave now, old man.”
“You, what’s your name?”
“Kail Meyer.”
“The Empire’s Guardian Sword, eh? Hmm. The Empire’s future looks bright.”
With Gawein’s praise ringing in my ears, I confidently exited the examination hall. Immediately after I left, I heard Gawein yelling at the last examinee who hadn’t made a move.
Ignoring his shouts, I walked away filled with baseless confidence.
After all, unless the Academy had lost its mind, there was no way they’d fail a Master.
***
“Alright, we will now select the Academy’s incoming students.”
After all tests concluded, the gathered professors began selecting students for admission. The process was simple:
Combine the written and practical scores, then determine if the student was a suitable candidate for the Academy.
Of course, certain individuals were guaranteed admission regardless of their scores: royalty or clerics sent by the Holy Kingdom.
Excluding these exceptions, admission depended entirely on the combined scores.
This was a long, tedious process involving filtering countless candidates, typically handled by younger professors… but today, unusually, Gawein, a senior professor and Master, participated.
Thanks to his presence, the other professors worked with extra diligence—they couldn’t afford to appear lax in front of Gawein.
“Hmph, don’t mind me too much.”
“No, how could we… Sir Gawein, aren’t you the Empire’s hero?”
“How many years ago are you talking about?”
Gawein chuckled like a gracefully aged elder, shuffling through papers as if searching for someone’s file.
When asked if he was looking for someone, Gawein shook his head and said it was fine.
“Mae, fail. Disqualified…”
“King Swin. Failed practical, disqualified.”
“Haytel, fail. Disqualified…?”
As the professors continued reviewing, they noticed an unusually high number of failures this year. Normally, the number of failing candidates wouldn’t even reach half this amount, and it wasn’t as if this year’s candidates were weaker.
Generally, if the candidates’ level dropped, the passing rate would adjust accordingly. Yet, strangely, many candidates failed—and upon cross-referencing, all belonged to the Knight Department.
Moreover, every single candidate Gawein supervised had failed.
“Um, Sir Gawein…? Could you explain this?”
“What do you mean?”
“All candidates you supervised were disqualified.”
“Disqualified them all? That’s impossible!”
Gawein shouted back in disbelief.
“There must be someone who passed!”
“No… there isn’t?”
“This can’t be!”
Unable to believe the other professors, Gawein frantically sifted through the test results. Amidst his search, one professor cautiously spoke up.
“Um, Sir Gawein? I hate to say this, but—this girl, Mae Bell, is a talented prodigy. She’s won awards in multiple swordsmanship tournaments.”
“Does that really matter?”
“Of course it matters! We’re discussing biased test results here!”
The room fell silent after the shouting professor’s outburst. Gawein, who had been rummaging through test papers, looked sharply at the professor who had spoken.
A fellow professor from the Knight Department, a genius who achieved Expert status at a young age and secured a teaching position at the Academy.
But—he was no match for Gawein, the living hero of the Empire and a Master.
“Mae Bell… Now that you mention it, your surnames are the same?”
“Ah, uh—that is, she’s my relative…”
“So because she’s your relative, she should pass despite lacking skill?”
“That’s not what I meant! She truly possesses exceptional ability…”
“She seemed quite lacking to me. Are you saying your judgment surpasses mine?”
The professor fell silent. Countless knights across the Empire had been trained by Gawein.
Claiming Gawein’s judgment was flawed would insult the multitude of knights he had trained.
Seeing the professor silenced, Gawein clicked his tongue and asked others to help locate a specific test result.
“Find me Kail Meyer’s test results.”
As soon as Gawein spoke, everyone scrambled to find Kail Meyer’s test results like diligent graduate students following orders.
With their help, it didn’t take long to uncover Kail Meyer’s test paper buried among the mountain of results.
“100 points…?”
Seeing the practical exam score, the professor muttered in disbelief. This was Gawein, the stubborn professor who hadn’t awarded a perfect score even to a genius candidate who challenged the Academy entrance two years ago at the Expert level.
And now he gave 100 points? Considering he marked everyone else as zero, it wasn’t as if the test had been unusually easy.
“No, what is this…”
“100 points—Sir Gawein, what’s going on here…?”
As the professors scrutinized Kail Meyer’s test paper in disbelief, one professor realized why it hadn’t been found earlier.
“Um, Sir Gawein?”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“This candidate… failed.”
“—What nonsense is this!”
Kail Meyer failed? Startled, Gawein snatched the test paper to confirm Kail Meyer’s scores.
Practical: 100/100 Pass
Written: 10/100 Fail
Final Result: Fail
Seeing the written score, Gawein trembled as he stared at the paper. No matter how many times he checked, “Fail” didn’t magically turn into “Pass.”
“Bring me this candidate’s test paper! Now!”
“Yes, yes.”
Though puzzled by Gawein’s intentions, the professor obediently fetched Kail Meyer’s test paper, deciding it was better not to upset a Master.
Kail’s test paper was worse than expected. Upon seeing it, the professor realized Kail Meyer shouldn’t pass even if his practical score had been 200 instead of 100.
“Here it is…”
“Hmm.”
Taking the test paper, Gawein frowned at the first question: Write the name of the Empire’s first Emperor. How could he get this wrong?
But upon seeing the answer below, he sighed in relief.
“Who graded this?”
“Eh? Probably the grading committee…”
“They need to go. Why is this marked wrong?”
Gawein began correcting the incorrectly marked answers with his pen.
“How dare he refrain from writing the Emperor’s name? Such loyalty! Correct!”
“The courage to admit ignorance! Correct!”
“Tch! What use is math to a knight? Mark this correct too!”
As Gawein absurdly inflated Kail’s score, he paused at question 17, a tactical problem: Describe a strategy to annihilate 5,000 soldiers with 300 men.
Kail had simply written: “Annihilate 5,000 men with 300.”
Logically, it was nonsense.
“Sir Gawein, honestly, this is impossible… How can 300 defeat 5,000?”
“Hmph, why not? Someone capable of it is right here.”
Indeed, Gawein had accomplished this very feat—the event that made him the Empire’s hero.
Leading 50 Black Lion Knights to suppress a rebellion of 5,000 men.
“If I could do it, then theoretically, it’s possible?”
Of course, realistically, a single knight leading 300 men against 5,000 was impossible.
Utter nonsense. If anyone else had written such an answer, Gawein would have scoffed.
But since it was Kail Meyer himself, Gawein thought differently.
‘He can actually do it.’
Kail had merely written what he could accomplish.
Marking it wrong wouldn’t do.
“So this is correct. With this, the total score becomes…”
Gawein reviewed Kail’s test paper. Including the newly corrected answers, the score reached 30.
Not outstanding, but just enough to avoid failing.
“Proceed as is—no, pass him!”
Finally, after much persuasion, the professors allowed Gawein to pass Kail. Those who scored zero were adjusted to barely pass.
Thus, the Knight Department overflowed with students who achieved record-low scores.
