Chapter 16 – Special Entrance Exam

With 40 minutes to spare after our meal, I considered taking a digestive walk. However, Yurasia’s dessert craving led us both back to our seats.

“Miss, this is absolutely delicious!” Yurasia exclaimed, sampling an array of sweets—strawberry pound cake, brownies, madeleines, crepes, macarons, and croissants.

I sipped my milky coffee, pondering why my daily liter of milk hadn’t boosted my height. At least my bones should be getting stronger, I mused.

“Miss, look at this!” Yurasia pointed excitedly. “See the delicate lace-like pattern next to the macaron? It’s an incredibly difficult technique to master!”

“Impressive,” I nodded, feigning interest to avoid her pestering.

“And the filling is perfect—just the right balance of sweetness and tang!”

“Good. Enjoy yourself.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try some, Miss?”

“I’m not fond of overly sweet things.”

Candy is one thing—more of a cigarette substitute. But cakes and macarons? Not my style.

Yurasia watched me for a moment, then broke a tiny macaron in half. “Here, Miss. Just try a bite.”

“It’s small enough as it is. If you want more, just order another.”

“Oh, come on. Sharing makes it taste better!”

Her beaming face and the falling crumbs made it impossible to refuse. “…Fine. I’ll give it a try.”

Is this what they mean by ‘you can’t say no to a smiling face’? I wondered, recalling how I’d had no trouble calling Arisa a chimpanzee when she smiled. But that was just stating a fact.

As for Luna and Paulo, they never smiled, so it was never an issue. And Kaloso? I cursed at that bastard even when he smiled. I even hit him once. Should’ve killed him back then.

I popped the macaron into my mouth. It didn’t fit perfectly—crumbs stuck to the corners.

Chew, chew-

To my surprise, it wasn’t bad.

“It’s good, right?” Yurasia grinned.

“Not really,” I lied.

“You’re not fooling anyone! Your expression says it all!”

I touched my lips, feeling the crumbs and my still-chewing mouth. I’m not smiling, am I?

“So, how is it? It’s delicious, isn’t it?”

“…It’s edible, I suppose.”

The crisp yet chewy exterior was sweet, complemented by a refreshingly tangy filling. It was, as Yurasia said, a perfect balance. It… does taste good, I admitted to myself.

Perhaps because I never had anything like this in my past life. Luxuries like macarons were far beyond my reach back then.

“Here, Miss. Try this strawberry one,” Yurasia offered another halved macaron.

I ate it absently, surveying the room as I chewed. Some examinees ate solemnly, as if at a wake. Others, confident in their success, enjoyed their food happily. Then there were those like us, leisurely savoring desserts.

My gaze fell on a girl from my written exam room, wearing a navy hoodie. She glanced between her wallet and the kiosk before walking away dejectedly. What a pitiful sight.

“Yurasia, how much does a meal here cost?” I inquired.

“On average, about 5,000 sel.”

“And the cheapest option?”

“Um… 500 sel?”

“Is that what you were planning to get?”

“…Yes. Hehe,” she laughed nervously.

“What does that buy you?”

Yurasia hesitated before answering, “Whole wheat bread… and milk.”

I sighed heavily. “From now on, I’m buying your meals. Don’t even think about that stuff.”

“But the whole wheat bread is—”

“I won’t repeat myself. Unless you want to eat through your nose, do as I say.”

“Yes, Miss…”

I reflected on my earlier market tour. A standard meal cost about 9,000 sel in the city. Academy meals were cheaper at 5,000 sel. And that whole wheat bread I’d eaten to exhaustion 400 years ago? 500 sel.

The girl didn’t seem broke, just reluctant to spend. Her hoodie’s fabric and sharp gaze marked her as nobility. Yet she can’t spare 5,000 sel? How will she manage tuition? A scholarship, perhaps?

As I pondered, Yurasia spoke hesitantly, “Did I choose something too expensive? Next time, I’ll—”

“Don’t overthink it. Just eat.”

“Mmm…” Though silent, her discomfort was palpable.

I sighed and picked up a fork. Yurasia, finally at ease, sipped her frappe with a smile.

Deciding what to eat, I popped a brownie into my mouth. At that moment, I locked eyes with the navy-hooded girl. She glanced between me and our dessert-laden table, swallowed hard, and hurried away.

Her gaze had been rude when directed at me, but filled with longing when eyeing the desserts. Seeing that makes me want to mess with her, I thought.

***

As we continued eating, Professor Arkand approached. “The headmaster wishes to see you in his office,” he informed me.

So Yurasia and I gathered our untouched desserts and headed there.

“Did you get into trouble, Miss?” Yurasia asked worriedly.

“Why would I be in trouble?”

“Then… why does the headmaster want to see you?”

“I have no idea.”

Perhaps my written exam answers were too perfect? They might suspect cheating, I mused. A reasonable suspicion, given how far beyond a typical applicant’s level they were. Still, it’s rather insulting.

I grinned, biting into another macaron. What will they ask? How to subdue monsters? Demon weaknesses? It doesn’t matter. I know how to kill them all—with weapons, magic, or bare hands.

Arkand and Yurasia watched me with concern as I chewed, lost in thought.

At the headmaster’s office, they waited outside while I entered alone. Inside, I found an elderly man with neatly combed white hair. His demeanor screamed, “I am a good person.”

He doesn’t seem power-hungry or greedy. Decent enough, I assessed.

“Welcome. I’m Sedil Mershdoff, headmaster of Karela Academy,” he greeted warmly.

I quickly swallowed the macaron in my mouth and bowed slightly. “It’s an honor to meet you,” I managed between chews.

“Eliaernes Eustetia,” I introduced myself properly.

“Ah, yes! It’s a great honor to meet Lady Eliaernes, the cherry blossom of the Eustetia family and the pride of the Empire.”

“Yes, um… I’m sorry, could you repeat your name?”

He chuckled good-naturedly. “It’s a bit tricky, I know. Sedil Mershdoff.”

Mershdoff. I know that name. A knightly house 400 years ago, now producing mages. Times have changed.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to a plush sofa. I sank into the leather, which exhaled softly under my weight.

“I’d love to chat, but with the practical exams approaching, I’ll get straight to the point,” Sedil said, handing me some papers—my written exam answers.

“We’ve determined that your answers cannot be graded.”

“Can’t be graded?” I echoed, surprised. Did I exceed the maximum score?

“Yes. The professors are divided—some argue for a perfect score, others for failure.”

“…Failure?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat. “Let’s start with the history section. But first… How did you come to know this information? It’s only found in restricted archives.”

“…Why do you ask?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. Given your family’s heritage, you might have access to similar records. Did you learn this from your family?”

“…Yes.” I’m sorry, Father. “My father and uncle often discussed these matters.”

“I see. Well, this information isn’t meant to be known in today’s era. Many younger professors are unaware of it.”

“So… that’s why it’s a failing grade?”

“For now, yes.”

A headache throbbed behind my temples. I understand. The Empire wants to present a polished image. It was the same 400 years ago.

“What about the combat section? What’s wrong with those answers?”

“Many professors thought your methods were… unrealistic. Some of us found them excellent, but others doubted their feasibility.”

“So, you’re saying my answers are just delusions?”

His silence was answer enough.

I ground my teeth, suppressing my rage. In my era, those answers would have been correct. No—any method that killed monsters was valid. Sacrificing your body was normal, part of daily life.

“Could the professors defeat monsters using my methods?”

“…The combat professors could.”

“What about adventurers?”

“Only a gold-rank adventurer of the first grade could manage it.”

“And is that considered average?”

“Yes.”

So, on average, only top-tier adventurers can handle intermediate monsters solo? That rank takes 20-30 years to achieve for most. It was the standard 400 years ago.

But now? In this cursed age of peace, standards have plummeted. Back then, even village idiots could take down ogres, albeit with broken limbs.

Have monsters grown stronger? Or have humans grown weaker? Even if monsters evolved, shouldn’t human capabilities rise accordingly?

“Ridiculous,” I muttered.

These fools, fattened by peace… The Demon King is sealed just beyond the northern mountains, yet they live in such complacency. What if a demon general decided to attack? They could invade at any time.

I thought the Eustetia knights were still competent, but the rest…

I rubbed my throbbing temples, looking back at Sedil. He wouldn’t have summoned me just for this. Not when the headmaster himself requested this meeting.

Straightening my posture and forcing down my anger, I waited for him to continue.

Do I really need to stay in this academy? Is there any reason to remain?

Well, yes. Spending three years here is better than becoming a vagabond. Yurasia is looking forward to attending. And I can handpick promising students to mold into warriors I approve of—not softlings suited for this peaceful age.

These reasons are enough to justify staying.

I exhaled deeply, steeling my expression. “I apologize for my outburst. How do you want me to prove my answers? Should I bring back an ogre’s head right now?”

Sedil looked startled, then his expression shifted. “There’s still a way for you to gain admission.”

“If it involves bribery or using my family’s influence, I’m not interested.”

He chuckled warmly. “No, nothing like that. We have a special admission system.”

“Special admission? That wasn’t in the handbook.”

“It’s only explained just before the practical exam.”

“I see. What do I need to do?”

“In the academy’s 348-year history, a specific monster has only been defeated six times during the practical exam.”

I understood immediately. “And this monster will be in the exam labyrinth?”

“Correct. Normally, the goal is to retrieve the labyrinth’s core, but for special admission, you must defeat that monster.”

“So if I kill it, I’m in?”

“Precisely.”

“And I’ll qualify for the special class?”

“Anyone who defeats that monster would certainly be admitted to Signia.”

“If my group gives up on the monster, can I challenge it alone?”

“Yes, that’s allowed.”

“One last thing—if a group ahead of me defeats it, will it reappear for my turn?”

“Haha! No need to worry. It will always respawn, though I doubt anyone this year will succeed. Even skilled swordsmen would struggle.”

He doesn’t expect anyone to succeed. Except me, of course.

“Understood. I’ll kill it.”

“For reference, the special admission criteria—”

“No need. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to know in advance?”

“Perhaps, but I want to take the exam on equal terms with others.”

I won’t give anyone reason to say I passed due to favoritism. Besides, knowing wouldn’t change anything. Whatever it is, I’ll defeat it.

“Hahaha! I see you’re determined. Very well—I look forward to your success.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

I bowed slightly and left the office.

Outside, Yurasia asked anxiously, “Miss, are you alright? What did the headmaster say?”

“Ah, he said I failed the exam.”

“…What?” Her face turned ghostly pale as silence fell, drawing attention from nearby examinees.

“Hahaha! Oh, Miss, you’re such a joker!” she laughed nervously, her complexion growing even paler.