Day One: Obstacle Race
Day Two: Soccer
Day Three: Subjugation
Day Four: Capture the Flag
I stared intently at the sheet listing the events for this year’s Sports Festival.
Anna, Tyr, Karen, and I were sitting together on a bench in the park, discussing which events would suit each of us best.
Because of the class representative’s policy, we would have to participate in the selection trials for every event anyway.
Still, we needed to decide which ones deserved more of our attention.
“Anna will obviously go for the Obstacle Race.”
“Yep!”
“What is Soccer?”
“It is an eleven-versus-eleven match. You win by getting the ball into the opposing team’s goal area first.”
From the explanation alone, it sounded like an extremely reasonable and civilized sport.
But this was a Warrior Academy.
It was probably some barbaric competition where all manner of violence was permitted.
For example, basketball was quite popular here.
The basic idea was to put a ball into baskets mounted high at either end of the court.
But the way they played it at this Academy involved surrounding whoever had the ball, beating the hell out of them, and taking it by force.
It was less a sport and more a destructive free-for-all.
Ugh.
I could not deal with something that chaotic and violent.
Besides, a ball?
I had never been particularly friendly with those things.
“Then I am skipping Soccer. What about Subjugation?”
“Ruben, you really did not listen to a word the class representative said, did you? In Subjugation, each class draws a monster at random, and whichever class kills theirs first wins.”
“Is that not dangerous?”
“Huh? Of course it is. It is the Sports Festival. Every event is dangerous.”
Ah.
Common sense really was completely different here compared to the Magic Academy.
Monster subjugation during a Sports Festival?
What were they planning to do if a cadet died?
Then again, if they cared about things like that, they probably would not have organized this idiotic Sports Festival in the first place.
“And finally, Capture the Flag?”
“I will explain that one, Young Master. It is similar to the War Games we often play in the Seirin Territory. Two forces face each other, and whichever side captures the enemy flag first wins.”
A War Game....
I did not remember much about them.
Back when I lived in the Seirin Territory, I had spent almost all my time indoors researching magic, so it was only natural that I knew very little about games like that.
But what if I stopped thinking of it as a game and treated it as an actual war?
Then I was a veteran among veterans.
Good.
Decision made.
“I am going with the War Game.”
My determination was firm.
I would win the event, earn recognition for my contribution, and secure that week of leave.
If I failed to earn that leave, I would not be able to obtain a personal sword worthy of being the symbol of a true swordsman.
“What makes that guy so confident that he will even be chosen as a competitor?”
“Karen, leave him alone. He looks so happy.”
“No, Ruben will definitely get selected!”
I can hear all of you.
Talking about someone like that while they are standing right in front of you is incredibly rude.
“Come to think of it, the selection trials start this evening, right?”
“Yep. Let’s do our best!”
True to her Camil blood, Anna was already burning with competitive spirit.
It seemed things were going to get noisy again starting tonight.
There really was never a quiet day at this Academy.
***
‘There is no doubt.’
Heinz stared at the pendulum pointing directly toward Ruben and became certain.
The bloodstain found in Lady Sabel’s room unquestionably belonged to Ruben Seirin.
Once he accepted that and began fitting the pieces together, quite a few things matched.
His ability to use extremely advanced magic.
His physique, which resembled Sabel’s description of “Ghost.”
Even his absolutely terrible personality.
‘And that little brat was the one who utterly destroyed Lord Gilbert? He even penetrated Lady Sabel’s entire security detail and infiltrated her room?’
There were so many ridiculous rumors about Ruben circulating throughout the Academy that Heinz had found them difficult to believe.
And considering what had happened in Sabel Ellimore’s room several days earlier, who would ever imagine that such a thing had been accomplished by a small first-year cadet?
Even now, Ruben was merely surrounded by the same three people he normally spent time with.
He looked like nothing more than a sullen little brat sitting around and wasting food.
But Heinz was only an attendant.
Like a loyal servant, he quickly discarded his personal opinions and began organizing the contents of his report.
‘Ruben Seirin. Youngest son of Count Seirin. Presumed to be a mage of an extremely high level. Defeated Pan Slipel in a Duel on the day of class assignment. According to witnesses, he demonstrated an extraordinary amount of Sword Mana. Since it is impossible for a mage to wield Sword Mana, the phenomenon displayed that day is presumed to have been magic. Extremely dangerous individual. Continued observation required.’
A concise report was complete.
Heinz carefully tucked the hastily written document inside his clothes and looked ahead once more.
The last thing he saw was Ruben laughing happily with Anna Camil, just as he had been earlier.
‘Foolish bastard. Of all families, you chose to provoke House Ellimore.’
Feeling considerable jealousy and a small amount of pity, Heinz quickly left the park and headed toward the Student Council building.
*
“Welcome, White Class cadets, to the Obstacle Race selection trial!”
After dinner, I arrived at the White Class training field at the appointed time.
The sight before me was absurd.
When the hell had they prepared all this?
The running track had been extended all the way to the auditorium.
The course was now three times longer than the track we normally used.
And along both sides of it, all kinds of incomprehensible devices had been installed in dense rows.
I had to give them credit for their ability to get things done.
Apparently, there really was a reason our class representative held her position.
Following the instructions of the class officers, we lined up at the starting point at one end of the track.
“We will now begin the Obstacle Race selection trial for all years! I am sure none of you harbor such disgraceful thoughts, but as a preventative measure, the bottom thirty percent will receive an additional hour of morning physical training!”
White Class immediately erupted into murmurs.
Our class representative seemed to enjoy the reaction.
Look at her.
That one corner of her mouth was twitching upward.
She was a demon in human skin.
“Each class may enter five competitors in the Obstacle Race! All you have to do is finish in the top five! I will accept no complaints or questions! The rules are extremely simple: avoid the obstacles thrown at you and complete the track before everyone else! Are you ready?!”
No matter how much I looked around, I could not find a single cadet who appeared ready.
I had seen this exact situation somewhere before.
Ah.
The entrance ceremony.
The race to reach the summit and come back.
It was exactly the same.
Confused cadets being ordered to run without any preparation whatsoever.
Just like then, it seemed there was nothing we could do except run.
“Start!”
At the signal, every cadet charged forward.
A mass of people sprinted across the solid track, kicking up an enormous cloud of dust.
And waiting ahead of that mass of humanity was—
“GRAAGH!”
“AAAH!”
“KYAAH!”
Cadets went flying in every direction while screaming in all sorts of voices.
The things sending them airborne were enormous wooden hammers attached to massive mechanical devices.
The hammers spun around continuously and swept toward the running cadets with enough force to knock out a cow.
And beyond them, I could vaguely see enormous Ogres swinging clubs.
Judging by the gags over their mouths and the restraints fitted around their bodies, they had obviously been captured specifically for this ridiculous event.
Of course, a second- or third-year cadet armed with a real sword might have been capable of fighting a single Ogre.
“AAAAAH!”
“HELP!”
The problem was that this was a running competition, so none of us had real weapons.
And there were not merely one or two Ogres.
I could see at least five.
“Are they insane?!”
Those things counted as obstacles?
Did that mean this entire track was packed with murderous machines and monsters like these?
“This is fun!”
“Looks like they focused more heavily on blunt-force obstacles this year than last year.”
Yet the older cadets looked completely delighted.
They casually dodged the swinging hammers while racing ahead with broad smiles on their faces.
There was no doubt about it.
Everyone in this class was insane.
“Young Master! Run!”
No, Tyr.
Why are you having so much fun too?
“Whatever. Screw it.”
Either way, I could not afford to finish in the bottom thirty percent.
For now, I just had to run as hard as I could.
***
“Ruben Seirin?”
“Yes, My Lady.”
“You are certain?”
“According to the pendulum, there is no doubt.”
Sabel Ellimore sat with her legs crossed as she studied the report Heinz had brought her.
She was dressed casually for the night and seemed completely unconcerned with appearances, while Heinz kept his gaze respectfully lowered toward the floor.
“I cannot believe it.”
Sabel had heard of Ruben Seirin before.
The most recent rumor claimed that he had fought the professor responsible for Imperial Standard Swordsmanship and won, earning bonus points for White Class.
Of course, she had heard the stranger rumors from before that as well.
That he had displayed an extraordinary amount of Sword Mana during his Duel against Pan Slipel.
That he possessed some bizarre obsession with backsides.
Ridiculous stories like that.
Yet after those incidents, she had heard nothing particularly noteworthy about Ruben.
There was only one fact that bothered her.
The person Ruben was closest to was Anna Camil.
‘If that is the case, then it explains why Ghost specifically chose Anna Camil as someone to protect.’
Sabel stared into empty space for a long moment before sweeping her long emerald hair behind her shoulder.
Then she gave Heinz an order.
“Bring Ruben Seirin to me.”
“As you command.”
Heinz bowed politely and left her room.
Once he was gone, Sabel’s expression changed subtly.
Ruben Seirin.
The strange man who had reduced her older brother Gilbert to a helpless invalid and opened a path for her to become the next Grand Duke.
And the man who had inflicted an unforgettable sense of humiliation upon her.
He had overwhelmed someone who had always stood above others through sheer power, then mocked her without the slightest hesitation.
At the same time, he was a monstrous human being whom she absolutely had to bring over to her side.
Yet Sabel did not understand the strange feelings Ruben inspired in her.
There was undeniably strong curiosity and fascination, but she could not decide whether those emotions were positive or negative.
She simply kept recalling the humiliation of being completely immobilized by Ruben’s magic and, for the first time in her life, being forced to look up at someone who stood above her.
‘You were the first person who ever treated me like that, Ruben Seirin.’
One thing was certain.
Sabel wanted to speak with Ruben again as soon as possible.