The other professors' attention was focused on Jesse Athlon.
Well, if I didn't know his backstory, my attention would've naturally gone to Jesse too. Even his bearing was different. He knew how talented he was, and he knew how to show that talent off.
Unlike Torres, who was cowering in the corner like a loser.
But the real deal was 'Torres.'
He was originally a character I planned to raise properly and have join the protagonist's party, but sorry. I forgot about him.
Anyway, that setting itself remained firmly intact, which was why such a brilliant radiance was dazzling my vision.
"Torres, was it? What prompted you to apply to Grasco?"
"I-I, well, um......"
The moment Torres opened his mouth, disappointment appeared in the professors' eyes. One professor was even cursing me with his gaze as if to say, 'Hey, you were really waiting for someone like this?'
"He's my friend. We've been like brothers since we were little. I thought it would be even better if we were together at Grasco too, so I convinced him to apply. Right, Torres?"
"Y-yeah."
"Oh."
Look at that. Lying without even wetting his lips. Friends who grew up like brothers? What a joke.
To that Aewan-yong bastard, Torres was nothing more than a sturdy punching bag.
But that was exactly where the trap lay.
Who was Jesse Athlon?
A genius among geniuses who had been called a prodigy since childhood. A genius like that beat Torres seriously without even holding back, yet Torres was still alive? With only some bruises and minor wounds left behind?
That was something beyond mere sturdiness.
The bastards who had failed to notice it until now were idiots whose brains were nothing but decorations.
"Then let me ask young Jesse. I understand that great expectations have been placed upon you since childhood. May I ask why you chose Grasco?"
Damn, what a roundabout way of putting it.
Translated, the question was basically: You've taken everything Ermel and Kadein gave you, so are you prepared to deal with the consequences of coming to Grasco?
That bastard wasn't the type to consider anything like that.
"I want to become stronger. Strong enough to surpass my ancestor, Trion Athlon, the strongest knight in history."
His eyes seemed to blaze.
An overwhelming thirst for strength.
That was the driving force behind Jesse Athlon's life.
And that was why he ended up becoming a pet.
"Then I believed it was only right to learn from the strongest person. That is why I chose Grasco."
Those eyes poured toward me with an uncomfortable intensity.
The other professors were sincerely impressed by his passion, but that was only because they were blinded by illusions like 'the continent's greatest prodigy' and '“the greatest talent since Trion Athlon.'
I wondered what expressions they'd make after getting stabbed hard in the back later.
"You've got the wrong idea."
That was the only thing I could say to him.
Hey, the professors at Kadein are way better at teaching.
***
It was the first time in his life.
The first time Jesse Athlon had met someone he felt was stronger than his own father.
That was the thought that crossed his mind when he first faced Lucas.
Once he was overwhelmed and captivated by the man, the faint regret still lingering over his choice vanished without a trace.
His acceptance was practically guaranteed anyway.
Who would reject the greatest talent on the continent?
Jesse's goal was to leave a definite impression on Lucas.
He wanted to leave an impression just as deep as the one Lucas had left on him.
However.
'Why isn't he reacting at all?'
Unlike the other professors, who had brightened the moment he entered, Lucas showed almost no change in expression.
If anything, he was looking more at Torres than at Jesse.
'Why is he looking at that stuttering bastard?'
Ah, right.
Lucas still didn't know Torres was a pathetic stutterer.
Torres did have an impressive frame, so it made sense that his eyes would be drawn to him.
There was still time.
Once Torres opened his mouth, things would change.
"I-I, well, um......"
As expected.
The moment Torres spoke, the atmosphere cooled.
'Still, I can't let that idiot fail.'
Jesse quickly spoke up for Torres.
The moment he saw the professors' expressions soften, Jesse became certain.
But then.
'His expression got even stiffer?'
The change was so slight that even Jesse's keen eyes could barely detect it, but Lucas's expression had definitely hardened further.
As if he were looking at something unpleasant.
'I need to make up for it.'
Jesse spoke with complete honesty.
I am the only one worthy of receiving your teachings.
So look at me.
Had his sincerity reached him?
Lucas's gaze finally landed on him.
THUD-!
Jesse's heart seemed to drop.
"You've got the wrong idea."
Those cold eyes seemed to dig straight through his heart as Lucas uttered those meaningful words.
After that, Lucas did not look at Jesse again until the interview ended.
***
'Oh.'
After the turbulent interview with Group K, Team 8, came the interview for Team 9.
There was someone here as well who was radiating an extraordinary light.
Even their appearance drew the eye.
A skeletal body, one that looked as though moving around would be difficult without a wheelchair.
'Eilon...... Dust?'
Holy shit.
If this was Eilon Dust, then he was number one in this world when it came to magic engineering.
His age?
Who gave a shit about that?
His innate talent steamrolled everything else.
Every core technology used by Dust Industry, the largest company in this world, had been developed by that kid when he was still elementary-school age.
That dazzling radiance made perfect sense too.
'Eilon Dust? Yeah, I can absolutely get behind that.'
But the professors were not looking at him kindly.
These guys were born knights who seemed to have muscles packed all the way into their brains.
They were probably wondering whether someone with such a skeletal body could even lift a tree branch, much less a sword, and questioning why he had applied to the Faculty of Combat Studies at all.
On top of that, Grasco was a place where background and family wealth were not taken into consideration whatsoever.
The backing of Dust Industry would do nothing to ease those doubts.
"Hmm...... So you're the young master of Dust Industry."
"Yes, that's right! Is there a problem?"
......He's way too cheerful.
He must have sensed the hostility in the professors' voices, but whether he was simply pure-hearted or just wasn't thinking, he answered brightly.
"No, well, what I mean is, this is the Faculty of Combat Studies......"
At this point, the professors themselves were starting to get flustered.
"Yes, that's right, the Faculty of Combat Studies!"
"What we're trying to say is......"
God, this is frustrating.
"How did you think you could enter the Faculty of Combat Studies with that body?"
I bit the bullet and asked in place of the hesitant professors.
Eilon's expression stiffened at my rather direct wording.
Huh?
He can't get hurt by that.
That guy may not look it, but he's an enormous lunatic.
That wheelchair isn't just a wheelchair either.
It's a killing machine containing the essence of that genius.
I needed to smooth this over before he snapped and activated the thing.
"......If that's what you wanted to ask, then the professors have not read the admissions guidelines."
"Hm?"
Look at all those stupid expressions.
I pointed out the most important sentence in the admissions guidelines to the confused professors.
<If the age requirement is met, there are no additional application requirements.>
"Eilon meets Grasco's admission age requirement. No other condition can affect whether he passes or fails, nor should it."
"No, even so, there has to be some limit......"
"Can someone with impaired limbs even properly attend classes in the Faculty of Combat Studies?"
Right.
Given Eilon's physical condition, he could not attend the kind of physically demanding classes taught by the Faculty of Combat Studies.
But he fit my original purpose perfectly.
"I'm sorry, but there are matters we must consider as well. Young Eilon Dust, you cannot join us......"
At this rate, they were going to reject him.
I absolutely could not allow that.
"......He can."
I declared it to the professors.
Then I spoke to my mechanic shield—no, my source of money—no, no, Eilon Dust.
"Eilon Dust, you're accepted. Prove that my choice was right."
***
"Professor Lucas, even if you're opening an independent class, how could you announce someone's acceptance right there on the spot?!"
During a short break, one professor spoke with obvious displeasure.
"Even if it's an independent class, it's still officially part of the Faculty of Combat Studies. If that boy goes around calling himself a student of the Faculty of Combat Studies, he'll disgrace not only the faculty but Grasco itself!"
Naturally, the atmosphere among the professors was one of agreement.
Common sense dictated as much.
If someone with an incurable illness and limbs so thin they were practically nothing but bone claimed to be a student of the Faculty of Combat Studies, most people would react the same way.
'But I need him.'
I was not choosing him because I wanted to teach him anyway.
I was choosing him because I wanted him to protect me.
In that regard, Eilon perfectly satisfied my requirements.
He's rich, and his magic-engineering version of a mech is powerful.
And you guys were about to reject someone like that, you know?
If I end up in danger because of you, are you going to take responsibility?
Damn, now I'm getting angry just thinking about it.
But I could not exactly explain any of that, so I kept my mouth shut and watched their performance.
"......Ahem! What I'm saying is! We should look at the bigger picture. The bigger picture. And...... if I went too far, I hope you'll understand. Isn't this all because I'm thinking of you and Grasco? If I offended you, I'll apologize."
Simply keeping my mouth shut was enough for the intimidation naturally radiating from this body, along with my Presence Stat, to make him tuck his tail between his legs.
If he was going to fold this quickly, why did he have to talk my ear off?
"Ahem, shall we resume now?"
"Let's."
The atmosphere cleared, and the interviews resumed.
In the meantime, I found and marked several talents that caught my eye.
Time passed, and even the interviews that had seemed endless finally began to approach their conclusion.
"Last group. Group Z, Team 10, enter."
The last group.
I was almost overcome with emotion.
'Let's see. Who's in this group......?'
There were no particularly eye-catching names.
Well, the people I had already marked were more than enough.
Especially since I had picked up gems like Torres and Eilon.
'Maybe I should call it here.'
The moment I thought that, a radiance comparable to Torres's shone into my vision.
'Hm? There's someone else?'
Just in case, I looked through the documents again, but there still was not a single name that stood out.
'Then what the hell is that light?'
CLICK-
The door opened, and the final group entered.
The light grew brighter and brighter.
Then I saw him.
'What the hell? Why is he here?'
The interview proceeded regardless of my internal shock.
"All right. Let's begin introductions from the end."
"Deyan. I have no surname."
Aerok's strongest man had appeared at the student interviews under the name Deyan.
The question, 'Why the hell are you there?' rose all the way to the tip of my tongue, but I forced it back down.
In terms of ability alone, this was a man who should be here as a professor, not a student.
Why was he-
-You will take this fellow to Grasco as well. You must make him stronger.
Romero's final words suddenly struck my mind.
'No, wait. You're telling me to train this guy?'
How?
It felt as though the sky were collapsing.
But even when the sky collapses, there is always a hole to escape through.
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The problem was that I had no way of knowing whether that hole was an escape route or a Hell Gate leading straight to damnation.