Chapter 211 : Chapter 211
Chapter 211
Midterm exam season had arrived.
"There are no regular class sessions. Students subject to midterms may visit and request their exam at any point during the week."
The moment the announcement ended, students naturally gathered into their groups.
"I've got a practical exam in Teacher Freutche's class."
"Do we run before the exam, or after?"
"Obviously we do this first. You can just wing Teacher Freutche's test."
Cassian may have been Akarind Academy's representative instructor, but that didn't mean Cassian was everything Akarind Academy had to offer.
His classes brought in all students across the sixth year, and once his classes ended, the Basic Class, Advancement Class, and Graduation Class students scattered in every direction.
Because of that, Cassian's classes had to be scheduled so that all students could attend them together.
There were many factors to consider when arranging such a diverse student body.
In the end, Cassian's classes ran only once a week, with other instructors' lessons filling the remaining slots.
Assignments that required groups of ten.
Thanks to that, the most critical part of this exam was coordinating the schedules of all ten members.
Which led to some amusing situations.
"Um, I have class at that time......"
"What? How does that make sense? Who's teaching you?"
"Teacher Isadora. I figured I should pick up some strategy, you know?"
"Mm, Teacher Isadora is an excellent professor."
Pan, Freizia, Bridget, and Eleveth—who had to serve as midterm bosses—also had classes to attend.
Between one condition and another, the pool of people available to accept student challenges was inevitably limited.
Kantaros, the Auditor.
Chamson, a knight from the lower ranks of the Duchy of Crownhardt.
Hati and Rozalin, who worked on the security team and spent their time outside of classes.
Jacy and Shasha, who served as teaching assistants but whose positions were effectively ambiguous.
And Duke Crownhardt and the Spear God.
"Still, the Spear God's a bit......"
"Rozalin too......"
"The Duke too......"
"Hmm. Are the teaching assistants the easiest targets?"
"But they taught us. They know all our weaknesses."
"Then it's gotta be Chamson after all?"
"What about Grandpa Kantaros? Old as he is, he's still just an old man."
"You don't get it—surviving to that age means he's strong."
The most popular choice among the students was Chamson.
Two thousand students forming groups of ten meant two hundred teams.
Nearly half or more of them flocked to Chamson, declaring they'd take their exam against him.
And then he hit Overload.
"I—I'll only take two challengers a day!"
"We've got clerics on standby. No breaks—let's go!"
"B-but food......"
"We've stuck ham and vegetables between two slices of bread so you can eat while sparring! It's called a sandwich!"
Chamson's sparring sessions were managed down to the second.
In the end, after being run ragged with four midterm bouts per day for two straight days, Chamson collapsed in the infirmary.
The funny part was that he'd won all eight of those bouts.
"Anyone looking at this would think we were the ones who won!"
"He wins and then checks himself into the infirmary?! He wins and bails?!"
Chamson had honed his sword with everything he had in anticipation of exactly this kind of situation.
Cassian, too, had conducted Chamson's lessons properly—unlike with the other students.
He had to take responsibility for selecting Chamson as a midterm target, after all.
But even that only went so far.
If things had escalated to this degree, the exams couldn't continue as they were.
"Challenges against Chamson will be limited to two per day."
And so a hundred teams found themselves in a state of emergency.
Those lucky enough to draw an early number could still face Chamson.
But the remaining teams were staring down a forfeit loss, unable to even get a match.
In that situation, there was no choice but to swallow their pride and seek out a stronger opponent.
"U-um, would you spar with us......?"
"Ohohoho! What?! You want to face the second Sword Master of Akarind Academy, the great Cassian-teacher's first Top Disciple, this Rozalin Vurhelm?! Ahahahahaha! Count yourselves honored, you greenhorns!"
"Ho ho ho, thinking you can look down on me because I'm old, are you?! Come, come then!"
"Come at me all at once!"
"You can all come at once!"
Rozalin and Kantaros were more than happy to accept the challenges.
"......Isn't it weird? Pan, he hasn't been in a good mood lately."
"The way he looks at Rozalin is suspicious."
"C-could it be? Pan had a crush on Rozalin?"
"Eek?! M-maybe?! But Rozalin was caught confessing to Cassian, so......"
"Tsk tsk. Fools. Your imaginations are still so impoverished."
"What?"
"Why do you assume Pan had a crush on Rozalin? If anything, Pan was toward Cassian......"
"Hey, kids. Instead of chattering, why don't you just come at me all at once?"
Pan mercilessly beat down the students who were lost in their fantasies.
Hati silently and methodically dispatched student after student, as if it were just another job.
Jacy and Shasha seemed to have a knack for teaching—after each spar, they pointed out their opponent's mistakes.
Bridget and Eleveth took advantage of their two-person team to handle a large number of students.
Each boss was clearing an average of ten or more teams per day.
And so far, the number of teams that had passed was zero.
In the midst of all that.
"......Ready?"
Zelta's team moved with grim determination on their faces.
Their opponent hadn't changed.
"Oh ho. So you've chosen me after all? You must not want to keep your necks attached for long."
A stooped old man with a long spear grinned as he hefted his rough-hewn weapon.
The Spear God.
Among the midterm bosses, if one considered physical arts and martial prowess alone, he was arguably the most formidable of them all.
Perhaps because of that, no team aside from Zelta's had selected the Spear God as their opponent.
Even Cassian hadn't expected any team to challenge the Spear God in the first place.
"......Today will be different!"
At Zelta's signal, knights and students alike snapped into formation in perfect unison.
A defensive formation, the same kind they'd used before, designed to withstand the Spear God's spear.
"Oh ho?"
A gleam of interest flickered in the Spear God's eyes as he observed their formation.
"Well now, that's the old man's stance!"
The first few times they'd clashed, he'd dismissed it as just another defensive posture.
But now, seeing the completed stance, he finally understood.
That stance was an imitation of Kantaros's shield techniques.
Out of the ten members of his team, Zelta hadn't modeled their Sword Intent after the strongest person—he'd chosen someone they could reasonably imitate, and made that their Sword Intent.
Could something that belonged to no one truly serve as Sword Intent?
The answer had been found.
"Heh heh heh, I've always wanted to pit my finest spear against the finest shield!"
The Spear God swung his spear in an excited arc through the air.
The exam had begun.
The Spear God's spear cleaved through the air.
"Three up front!"
Simultaneously, three people bearing Kite Shields stepped forward and completely blocked the frontal assault with their shields.
A thunderous BOOM echoed, as if a high-circle spell had detonated.
The students were pushed back, but the teammates bracing them from behind kept the damage minimal.
The recoil actually forced the Spear God half a step backward.
The smile on his face deepened.
"Not bad at all! Try blocking this one too!"
An even denser Aura coated the spear, staining the world black as it lashed forward like a whip.
CRASH! CRASH!
Tremendous noise accompanied each strike as the spear hammered the shields again and again.
Each impact drove the barricade the students had formed a little further back, making it shudder.
"Gkh!"
Blood trickled from the mouths of the students holding the shields.
The Spear God's Aura, relentlessly pounding through the shields, carried a force that three people alone could barely withstand.
"Deflect!"
As the Spear God's strikes grew fiercer, the formation of ten shifted at an angle.
A stance change meant to redirect his force.
The Spear God's spear slid along the three shields and was deflected outward.
"Oh ho, then let's try fighting like this!"
The Spear God instantly retracted his spear and twisted his entire body.
Like a crossbow drawn taut by a ratcheting mechanism, the spear pulled far back behind him.
If they could deflect, then all he needed was a single devastating thrust at one point.
With the shield split into three sections, their defensive power was effectively divided.
He'd pierce right through and settle this.
"Now!"
And as if they'd been waiting for exactly that, the formation shifted.
The three shields merged into one, and Aura concentrated within.
Trying to block as one, then!
The Spear God bared his teeth in a sharp grin and drove his spear forward.
With a sickening SQUELCH, the shield was torn clean through.
"Huh?"
The recoil was lighter than when the shield had been a single layer.
The spear spun, and the space behind the triple-layered shield was laid bare.
There stood a young man, catching the full brunt of the spear with his body, bleeding profusely.
"Got...... you."
"You lunatic!"
It was Zelta.
Despite a wound so severe that a chunk of his flank had been gouged out by the spear, he was smiling.
The single instant when they'd pretended to concentrate their defense.
In that instant, the three who had held the shields and the remaining members charged at the Spear God.
"You little—!"
The Spear God frantically tried to move his spear, but it wouldn't budge.
Zelta had gripped the spear shaft and was pressing his body low, putting every ounce of strength into holding it in place.
"You insane bastard! You'll die!"
That attack had been meant to punch through three shields reinforced with Aura.
And this fool had stepped in front of it with nothing but his bare body.
A student who couldn't even wield Aura—there was no way he'd come out of that unscathed.
If the Spear God tried to shake him off by force, there was no question the boy would die before the clerics could reach him.
'Is he out of his damn mind?! Gambling with his own life?!'
If the Spear God had truly not cared whether the student lived or died and simply moved his spear, it would've been over.
Or if the student had taken the thrust even slightly more head-on, he would've died instantly.
Between one impossible probability and another.
Using himself as a sacrificial pawn.
What kind of madman did something like that?
"RAAAAGH!"
The Spear God abandoned his spear and leaped back.
He could've kept fighting with his fists and still wouldn't have lost, but—
"I lose, you crazy bastards!"
The longer he wasted time, the more certain that lunatic student's death became.
And that was why the students, knights, and Auditors charging toward him all wore the same expression—the look of people ready to fight to the death.
The expression that said they'd kill their opponent even if one of their own died in the process.
The same expression worn by the people from that hellish place he'd escaped a few years ago.
Not even the Spear God could ignore that.
"Hurry, get that kid treat—huh?"
"Quick! Bring him over!"
"Ready!"
"Go!"
And then, as if nothing had happened, the students dashed over and began pouring high-grade potions from their packs onto Zelta.
Two clerics who had apparently been waiting somewhere nearby came running over with suspicious speed and began healing him.
The crater in his flank filled in before their eyes, new flesh sprouting to close the wound.
In moments, Zelta's body was restored to a state even healthier than before he'd collapsed.
"......Wh-what is this?"
"Ahh, victory tastes sweet."
It was the first win of the midterm exams.