◈ Mistaken for a Masked Monster
──────
Is That All?
The Freshmen Welcome Exam.
An event that had existed in the original game.
'It was the first episode that took place at the Academy.'
After the tutorial, a stage meant to give players a feel for the controls. An episode designed so users could enjoy the satisfaction of clean, impactful combat.
To keep the difficulty manageable, the setup had lower-ranked students sparring against each other. Players usually landed in Class A at the highest, Class C at the lowest, which meant facing cadets from roughly two rungs below your assigned rank.
'Looking back on it now, it was a genuinely awful event...'
From the start, the matchups were rigged. Predetermined results, dressed up as a competition.To show the gap between classes.
And in front of everyone, at that.
Lower-ranked students get crushed, and fall.
A device meant to humiliate. Their spirit, ground down little by little.
There was only one reason for putting students through something this brutal.
'To stoke competition.'
Conflict between classes. The lower ranks got treated with contempt, the upper ranks with deference. So the lower-ranked students scrambled to climb, and the upper-ranked fought to hold their ground.
A provocation, in short.
Mockery, contempt, inferiority. All of it sharpened the drive to improve, never mind whether that drive was pointed anywhere good.
'And if someone breaks under all of it...'
They get written off. Filed away as someone who was never going to make it. If you can't survive even this environment, you probably weren't cut out for it to begin with. That was the judgment here.
An extreme philosophy.
Teach harshly. Raise students who won't break.
It was why Grandia Academy had a reputation for being severe.
'The price of calling yourself an elite institution, I suppose.'
It was practically a declaration. This is the minimum you must clear to be recognized as a member of Grandia Academy.
Apparently, quite a few cadets had put in withdrawal requests within a single semester. Most of them from the lower classes.
'Hard to blame them, given the treatment.'
This exam alone made that clear enough.
Still, it was a schedule set by the Academy. No ignoring it outright, especially not for Class E, whose members were mostly commoners. No leverage whatsoever.
If they wanted that Grandia graduation certificate, they'd have to grit their teeth for the next three years.
"Ah, we've arrived."
I reached the exam hall right on schedule.
I had already decided to play along, after all.
The hall was located near Building A, the main block.
'Enormous.'
Something like a massive indoor arena, though that word hardly did it justice. Large enough to swallow several football pitches side by side, with room to spare.
"Well... shall we stop here?"
Squeak.
The rickshaw slowed to a halt.
I stepped down calmly as the errand boys who had been pulling the cart dusted off their hands. Wiping sweat from their faces, the students filed into the hall one by one.
I fell in behind them.
From my breast pocket, Carmilla stirred, squirming with something like wonder.
[It looked large from the outside, but the inside is just as grand.]
'It's not called the finest on the continent for nothing. Every facility here is state of the art, without exception.'
The sparring hall itself was equally vast. Around the edges, spectator seating packed the walls, the whole layout like several coliseums stitched together.
While one match ran, the rest of the students watched from the stands.
[The exam appears to have already begun.]
'I arrived a little late.'
[You haven't missed your turn, have you?]
'My slot is last. Still about thirty minutes before it comes around.'
[That's a relief.]
'Shall we head to the waiting area? I'd like to watch the other students' matches while we wait.'
I moved toward it.
The waiting area, where students sat before their turn came.
Right now, it was filled with Class E and Class C cadets alike.
The moment I appeared alongside my errand boys, the eyes around us snapped over all at once.
-Wait, isn't that him? Class E's top student?
-Top of Class E? Oh right, the one who ranked first with all-E stats?
-Viktor, wasn't it? I thought he'd run for it, but looks like he actually showed up.
Students whispering. A glance at the uniform nameplates confirmed they were all Class C cadets. Word had clearly gotten around.
-Poor thing. He's going to get absolutely wrecked today.
-How does someone with all-E grades even end up class representative?
-If that trash is their top student, what does that say about everyone below him?
-Pathetic. Just pathetic.
The murmuring jabbed at my ears from every direction. All of it soaked in hostility and amusement.
[Hmm... they do not seem particularly welcoming.]
'Hard to expect otherwise.'
If Class E was a gathering of failures, I was their head. A class representative carrying the additional mark of all-E stats, no less. Plenty to sink their teeth into. And Class C was two full rungs above us. No doubt they were already thinking about how to play with their prey.
-Heh... he can hear all of this. Is he trying to hold onto some shred of dignity?
-Right? He's not even pretending not to notice. A little arrogant, isn't it?
-Oh, come on, don't be too harsh. He's about to get thoroughly trampled anyway.
-Ha, fair enough.
None of it moved me. I found a seat.
My errand boys settled in beside me.
""......""
Every one of them had their teeth clenched tight. Fists balled, shaking slightly.
Nothing they could do, though. All they managed was to sit quietly and pretend they hadn't heard a thing.
'They're going to crack a molar.'
I let my gaze drift to the sparring hall, where a match was in full swing.
"......"
Without a word, I watched.
The matches all ran the same. Class C cadets against Class E cadets. A gap too wide to bridge on any reasonable day. One side stormed through effortlessly, the other got swept off the floor.
-Hm, this one's hanging on pretty well, isn't he?
-Pfft... look closer. Sylphi's only using one hand.
-Oh, really? She's completely playing with him, while the other one's burning himself out over there?
Mockery.
Next match. The one after that. Same story, every time. Class E students fell. Class C students laughed.
I watched with cold eyes.
'Good grief.'
From this angle, this place was genuinely unhinged. Playing it as a game, I had let the world-building wash over me without much thought, but...
-Oh, look at him thrashing around.
-Ahaha! Dangling there like that, what is he doing? He's actually crying?
-That's what you get for enrolling when you have no business being here.
The longer I watched, the deeper the crease between my brows.
'Not exactly a pleasant sight.'
[I feel the same.]
Class E drew the roughest treatment of any class by a wide margin. Partly a matter of skill, yes, but the class was also mostly commoners. Nobody felt the need to watch their words.
[Are all humans like this?]
'Hard to say.'
Humans. That nature, the one that can't resist looking down on others, tearing them apart, grinding them into the floor. The kind that needs to push someone down, to wallow in that feeling of superiority, just to get through the day.
'That's just what humans are. Different from other races with their tight-knit solidarity.'
[Is Viktor like that too?]
'Possibly. I'm still human, after all.'
[The mortal world grows more complicated the more one experiences it...]
Before long, my turn was nearly at hand.
The last match before mine.
'Luyan.'
Luyan Jestar.
Class E's second seat.
The one who would have been first, if not for me. Also one of my errand boys who pulled the rickshaw, though unlike the others, he'd always carried a sharper edge toward me.
'His opponent...'
Luyan's opponent was, naturally, Class C's second seat.
Through the entire match, Luyan got knocked around from every direction. He tried to fight back, but his spells couldn't find their mark. All he did was stagger, a source of entertainment for everyone watching.
-My, is he supposed to be their second seat? He's particularly persistent, at least.
-He just keeps getting back up. Does he not understand his situation?
He fought with everything he had, scraping for any foothold he could find. Never landed a single hit.
Luyan retired without scoring once, worn down by nothing but contempt from start to finish. He came off the floor looking completely drained. Mana exhausted, his steps lurching.
"......"
When people nearby reached out to steady him, he shook them off. His lips were bleeding where he'd been biting them.
Even that was apparently funny to the Class C kids.
Watching him draw nothing but laughter, I quietly rose from my seat.
""......""
The area around me went silent. To be precise, only the Class E waiting area had gone quiet. Eyes hollowed out, bodies and minds worn through, every one of them looking half-dead. All of them hoping this humiliating stretch would just end.
"Ahem."
Right.
This was a bad feeling.
"Luyan-ssi."
"......"
"Good work out there."
Thud, thud.
Eyes that looked like they might shatter any moment. I passed by him and tapped his shoulder lightly.
"Take a rest."
Errand Boy Number One.
Luyan just stared at me, blank. That look on his face said it all: why is he doing this all of a sudden?
"Heh. Nobody gets to push my errand boy around like that."
That was the thought.
My errand boys. Bossing them around was my job and mine alone. Whether I flicked them on the forehead or sent them out for bread, those were privileges that belonged to me.
'Class E is mine.'
And here these people were, doing whatever they pleased with it.
I scratched the edge of my mask and stepped down toward the sparring hall.
[Match 41]
-Viktor (Class E, First Seat)
-Sharyen Lavriel (Class C, First Seat)
On the other side, my opponent was already waiting.
The one who had been happily tearing into Class E students all morning. A character who showed up here and there in the original story, never leaving a good impression.
'Sharyen.'
A pretty face with something much darker underneath.
I stood and faced her in silence. Nothing to say. I simply smoothed the surface of my mask.
"Hmm..."
"......"
The circular arena stretched wide around us.
Sharyen's composure was absolute. Effortless. Of course it was. She thought this was already hers.
The girl smiled, easy and loose, and tossed out a few light jabs.
"My, so you're the one everyone's been talking about? The unprecedented figure who claimed the top seat with an all-E stat spread."
"I hadn't realized I was that famous."
"Of course you are. There isn't a soul at this Academy who hasn't heard of you... pft."
"......"
A laugh. Eyes from the spectator seats pouring down on us.
I said nothing. Just smiled, hoping that smile would carry through the mask.
"Aren't you starting to worry? About the kind of embarrassment coming your way?"
"Hard to say. Perhaps a little."
"Would you like to forfeit? If you crawl on all fours in front of the entire school, I might consider going easy on you."
"My classmates all gave their best, so I should do the same. You never know until you try, do you?"
"Is that so? Ufufu."
An ominous laugh. Those eyes, dark and merciless.
"What a pity. Throwing away a perfectly good offer."
Whoosh!
As she said it, the hand she extended caught fire, flames as red as her own hair coiling around it. The fire gathered itself into shape. A bow, forged entirely from flame.
She drew back the blazing red string and fixed her gaze on me.
"Don't come crying later. I gave you a chance to walk away."
An arrow burning alive at the tip. She finished her aim. Then the instructor's voice rang across the hall.
《Cadets, take your positions.》
《The exam will proceed in sparring format. It concludes when one party subdues or incapacitates the other.》
《In addition, if one party declares a forfeit, the exam ends at that point.》
The air in the spectator seats dropped. Like an audience holding its breath before the highlight reel.
<Ready.>
The instructor called it out, flat and simple. What followed detonated the silence.
<Begin.>
Boom!
The moment the word left his lips, a massive pillar of fire erupted at the center of the arena. Blazing. The red spiral slowly wrapped itself around the circular floor.
Through the whipping wind stood the red-haired girl, string drawn taut, a single arrow burning at the tip.
Sharyen whispered, cold amusement on her face.
"Then... no need to drag it out. One shot, and we're done."
Even from this distance, the heat was undeniable. A stray spark leapt and grazed my cheek.
That single ember told me everything.
'She's strong.'
The top of Class C, after all.
Sharyen was strong.
The air sat on the edge of combustion, every thread of mana in her attack dense and precise.
The stands, briefly quiet, picked back up.
-That's a top seat for you. The force is reaching us all the way up here.
-Is this actually safe? A Class E student can't handle something like that.
-He's not going to get hurt, is he?
Warnings, all of them.
I stood perfectly still.
"Fall down and make it easy!"
A sharp cry. Fingers released the string.
The fire beast, slipped loose from its leash, shot forward.
A long burning tail carved through the air. It swallowed the arena whole.
Shrieeeek!
Vicious, clean. The sound of the air tearing open.
Every eye locked onto that blazing arrow.
I took one step forward. Raised one finger.
"Hmm."
The mask was smiling.
My finger made contact.
Then.
Shhk.
The fire vanished.
Sharyen's composure cracked.
"What, what is..."
Not intercepted. Not deflected.
Gone.
The flames that had filled the entire space left not even a whisper of heat behind. Scene wiped clean, the audience stared at me in silence.
"Hm."
"......"
I looked at her.
Red hair. Confusion.
"You said you'd finish it in one shot..."
A quiet goad. A cold smile settled at the corner of my lips.
The mask matched it, the grin splitting impossibly wide, all the way up to the ears.
"Is that all?"
Quiet, but it filled the arena with perfect clarity.
The audience erupted.