#018 Gathering of Oddballs (3)
Among the more than a thousand candidates challenging in the preliminary exams, only just under thirty were able to board the train headed for the Empire where the finals would be held.
“Isn’t it a bit much that we’ve already shrunk down so much even before the finals have begun?”
In response to Ligret’s question, Fiore replied,
“No, actually, it’s quite a lot. There are over ten preliminary test sites just within the Spero Kingdom, but that’s still a relatively small number compared to other kingdoms. The Empire has over thirty sites, so if you look at the bigger picture, there are still countless participants left.”
“Moreover,” Fiore added with a mischievous smile, “let’s be honest here: the Spero Kingdom is the weakest among the Empire and its vassal states. If over thirty passed from such a place, other regions must be teeming with participants!”
“So we’re the ones from the weakest state.”
I chuckled, but I didn’t try to deny it.
Fiore’s words were indeed factual.
With its powerful magical armies and the long history of its visionary power, the Morian Kingdom had competed with the Empire until the bitter end.
Due to its geographical proximity bordering the Ivrestan Empire, security reasons made the military’s influence strong, and Nahat Duchy was unique among the vassal states as it was ruled by a general held in high regard by the former emperor, along with his bloodline.
In comparison, the Spero Kingdom lacked the historic significance of the Morian Kingdom and had less need to bolster its military, leading it to be considered a weaker state.
In the Empire, the three vassal kingdoms had to band together just to stand a chance against the Barhart Empire; the disparity in military strength was such that there really was no room for comparison.
“I’d think you’d know better than to say such things aloud, but don’t go around spreading that kind of talk outside. After all, there are plenty among the Spero Kingdom who despise us, and if they catch wind of those words, they’ll come at us with fire in their eyes!”
“Of course, I wouldn’t be so careless. Don’t worry, Brother.”
At that, Ligret, who had been watching, raised a brow and asked,
“…By the way, I just noticed. Why do you call him ‘Brother’?”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“Wait, if we’re taking the exam at this point, then Fiore is probably fifteen, right? So doesn’t that make you the same age?”
“Uh… that’s true.”
Theo Midas had been calling her sister, sister all the time, and Fiore had naturally just started calling me brother from the get-go, so I accepted it without thinking.
But whereas I was dumbfounded for a moment, Fiore responded as if it was the most natural question in the world.
“Ligret, that’s simple. If you consider her a relative of the same age, you start to distance yourself a bit, but once she’s categorized as a younger sister, even if there’s nothing owed, guys tend to feel like they should do something nice for her or help her in some way. Since we’ll be together moving forward, it’s better to be friendly than to be awkward, right?”
“Uh… is that how it is?”
“I don’t know. But don’t ask! No matter how I answer, it sounds weird!”
What kind of upbringing allows for such terrifying comments to spring forth so casually?
I thought I’d like to take a look at her parents, only to remember that one of them was Vern Midas, and I couldn’t help but nod in understanding.
“By birthday calculation, you’re January, and I’m December, so it’s not too strange. But if it makes you uncomfortable, should we change the way we address each other? Like Mr. Chrome or something?”
“Well… it would be a hassle to rearrange things now, so let’s just stick with what we have,”
she said.
She wanted to be the little sister, so what was I supposed to say to that?
#018 Gathering of Oddballs (3)
It was not the disappointment of never having heard the title “Brother” in either this life or the last that bothered me.
There was still time until the train stopped, so I decided to check the belongings I had packed for departure.
According to my contract with Vern Midas, I was recognized as the owner of five “sealed relics.”
Rather than recklessly throwing away my limited chances or automatically choosing the black cube, I had painstakingly selected the cubes that gave me the strongest intuition over the past two years. The results were as follows:
– The “Tot’s Large Capacity Backpack,” which connects to a pocket dimension large enough to fit five adult men lying down, allowing me to store various items regardless of their weight.
– The “Amulet of Vitality,” which alleviates weariness and physical exhaustion for the owner.
– The “Pheldows’ Summoning Gloves,” which can summon a spear for throwing from thin air up to three times a day.
– The “Ancient Guardian’s Longsword,” which, while lacking any special add-ons, surpasses most magic tools in terms of sharpness and durability.
– Lastly, the “Dantalian’s Monocular Glasses,” which provide the ability to know the names and general information about these relics.
Especially for the “Ancient Guardian’s Longsword,” just like the black cube, I had to go through a hellish struggle to not let the family head take it from me.
Glasses that allow the wearer to assess the value of items by mere observation? It was no wonder that a merchant’s eyes would light up at such a discovery, but I absolutely could not part with this one.
In a world without even a system window, where would I find an item this useful to just hand over?
Given my characteristics, there would be countless opportunities to open other cubes in the future, and it’s only natural I should want to know what powers the unsealed relics possess.
I could end up using a longsword thinking it’s just a good blade, only to find out it amplifies magic power instead, or worse, discover that it was cursed and weakened my physical abilities.
Despite my father’s various attempts at persuasion and bribery, I fought him off with a stubborn “I don’t know. I can’t hear you. No way I’m giving it up!”
After nearly two months of agonizing battles, I could finally free myself after pulling an item with a similar effect from another cube.
Seriously, when will that wicked nouveau riche get caught?
“Here, Fiore, take this.”
I pulled out the “Amulet of Vitality” from my backpack and handed it to Fiore.
“An amulet, huh? I can feel a pretty strong magic power from it.”
“It helps keep you from getting tired too easily. I can manage without it, so you go ahead and use it.”
Fiore hesitated for a moment but ultimately accepted the amulet without further reluctance.
“This isn’t just a simple gift, is it?”
“You’re sharp. There are going to be physically demanding tests ahead. This will help to some extent, but when push comes to shove, you’ll need to tough it out by yourself.”
Considering I had already given the “Ancient Guardian’s Longsword” and the “Pheldows’ Summoning Gloves” to Ligret, I only had two items left. But I didn’t feel bad about that.
Items are not meant to be hoarded; they are meant to be used.
I needed to invest in Fiore as I had enough reason to believe she had the qualities of a good ally, especially now that I was carrying her around due to my deal with Theo.
And thinking about life at the academy, it’s better to have a healer prepared early on.
The trope of a healer being a noble is not just a game-specific story, after all.
#019 The Start of the Test (1)
“Since Ligret is a warrior, Fiore is the healer, and I’m sort of a merchant-thief hybrid, the only roles left are either a tank or a mage, right? Speaking of which, I wonder how many other template holders challenged this test.”
As I was lost in such thoughts, Ligret’s voice broke through.
“…But why have I only seen grass outside the window since earlier?”
“Oh? You’re right. They usually don’t install tracks in the middle of a forest like this.”
At those words, I turned my gaze toward the window.
No matter how fast we were going, all I could see was the endless green grass, grass, and more grass.
It was definitely odd that, despite not riding a bumpy car but a high-speed train, over ten minutes had passed, and I still couldn’t see anything aside from grass.
‘Wait a second…’
Suddenly, a review posted not long after the release of ‘Planetarium’ flashed through my mind.
“Ack, the academy entrance exam. Is it just me? Why did they just toss us into a random forest for the first round?”
“What do you mean? In the first round, they have everyone split up by district and force us into a death match until a certain number of participants are eliminated.”
“Sounds like a mad school trying to make the students kill each other.”
“Still, at least there’s a survival insurance plan. Outside of the academy, there’s nothing like that.”
“I had a death match exam too. Was it really the first round?”
“It was! The first round of year two. Why is it only me going through this?”
Since there was still a significant lack of information back then, no one could clarify the reason behind it. But later on, many players gradually discovered new information through trial and error.
“The first round of the entrance exam is, fundamentally, a death match among students. However, if specific triggers are met, the exam content can change.”
“The type of triggered conditions affects the exam, and the ‘Dense Forest Crossing’ exam occurs when a player scores at least 10 points in one of the three preliminary exams.”
“However, in the case of ‘Hero Assembly’ mode, even if a player doesn’t score 10 points, if another template holder does, the condition is still satisfied.”
The heavy sound of iron began to fade as the train started to slow down.
At the same time, an announcement came through the speakers, bringing someone’s voice to the fore.
[Ahem, now, I’d like to inform all exam participants.]
[If you check the luggage compartments above your seats, there should be a backpack prepared for each of you, containing a special compass and enough food for four days.]
[Please reach the destination indicated by the red needle of the compass within the time limit. The limit is a week.]
[The train will now return to its original location in 10 minutes. Those participants who do not disembark from the train by then will automatically be regarded as withdrawn.]
[Now, we will commence the first round of the entrance exam.]
Immediately after the announcement, the interior of the train erupted into chaos.
Some rushed to get off the train, others frantically checked the luggage compartments, and some anxiously stared out the window at the landscape.
Watching all of this, I realized something.
Aside from me and Ligret, the other template holders were also participating in the exam.
And not just any participants—but monsters who had scored 10 points in the preliminary exam by their own merit at this first-year stage.
