The next morning, at six a.m. sharp, all forty-five members of the bottom-tier class were gathered out on the Academy’s old training ground. After a quick, fifteen-minute round of stretching, we were ordered to run three full laps around the building’s perimeter.
As I jogged through the morning mist, a familiar voice chimed in beside me, light and musical.
“Ryuto-kun, isn’t it strange?” asked Koharu Saegusa, our miko-garbed exchange student from the east, peering up at me with curious eyes.
For the record, I hadn’t spoken a word to Arthur or Brian since last night.
“What’s so strange?” I asked, keeping my pace steady.
Koharu, jogging beside me in her flowing shrine maiden robes, pointed off toward the outer perimeter of the grounds.
“Out there. Beyond the outer wall. Just fifty meters past the Academy… It’s an entirely different world, right? The Great Labyrinthine Forest, the one crawling with monsters. But…”
“But there’s nothing breaching the border,” I finished for her. “No trees, no beasts. Not even vines get past the fifty-meter mark.”
She nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with wonder. “Yes! That’s exactly it!”
“It’s because this place became the final defense line during the last Great Calamity,” I explained. “The barrier that’s been cast over this area is no joke. We’re talking top-tier divine warding. Kingdom-grade magic.”
“Fascinating,” she murmured, tilting her head and staring up at me, utterly entranced.
Like a kitten discovering mirrors.
“Come on, they went over all this during orientation,” I muttered, giving her a light bop on the head with my knuckles. “Try listening next time.”
“Ow… That hurt…”
I wasn’t sure why, but something about her reminded me of Lilith. She had the same kind of harmless vibe. The kind that made you feel like giving her a friendly knock on the head wasn’t just allowed but expected.
“Well, anyway,” I said, brushing off the thought, “Where’s Lilith? You’re bunking together in the girls’ dorm, right?”
Koharu’s face lit up as she clapped her hands, then immediately shifted to a sluggish scowl. She dropped her voice a few octaves in a lazy, deadpan tone.
“Low blood pressure. Morning training… Pass.”
The impression was spot-on. I nearly doubled over from laughing.
So she’s got mimicry chops, too? Not bad. Looks like this little animal’s got some bite.
Then something about her answer nagged at me.
“Wait. She skipped morning training? Is that even allowed?”
“Sure,” Koharu said with a nod. “She’s in the elite class, remember? Those students can choose whether or not to attend this camp.”
“Right… Makes sense.”
“Even the training regimen for scholarship students is elective,” Koharu explained, her voice soft but certain. “If they don’t opt in, the schedule just defaults to self-study.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. I stared at her, speechless. “That’s seriously allowed?”
“It makes sense in a way,” she replied, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Let the capable students learn freely, give them room to grow. And the useless ones? Squeeze them dry until they either snap or shape up.”
I let out a long sigh. “Well, fair point.” But then I gave a firm nod, as if settling something deep in my gut. “Whatever. Starting tomorrow, she’s joining us.”
“Huh? But Lilith is… She’s clearly competent. Wouldn’t self-study be more efficient for her than this insane muscle-building bootcamp?”
“This life,” I said quietly, “is not so bad.”
She tilted her head, puzzled. “I don’t get it.”
“I said, it’s not bad,” I repeated, looking out toward the forest with narrowed eyes. “This training isn’t half as stupid as it looks.”
Koharu pondered my words in silence before asking, “Why do you think that?”
“Because the system here is simple,” I said. “If we meet the Academy’s performance threshold, we’re done in a month. If we don’t, we keep grinding—another month, then another—until six months pass. Fail to pass by then? You’re gone. Voluntary withdrawal.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s exactly how I heard it explained. Six months to prove yourself or get out.”
“Then let’s be real about it.” I turned to her, my voice dropping to a low, even tone. “How many people in this camp have the talent to become court magicians? Or even top-tier adventurers?”
“Almost none,” she admitted. “The truly gifted ones were never placed in this class to begin with.”
“Exactly. Even if someone scrapes through this camp and makes it to the regular track, best-case scenario? They’ll wind up as some third-rate adventurer. The diploma’s just for show. It won’t land them high pay, unlike the others who finish up top.”
There were, in fact, two tiers of graduation certificates: second-tier and first-tier. And whether you were trying to join the Royal Court or register with an elite guild, that distinction mattered. A second-tier certificate was barely more than a piece of paper. Only first-tier grads were truly recognized as alumni of the Magic Academy, at least in the eyes of society.
“Yeah, that’s probably how it’ll go,” Koharu murmured.
“And if someone drops out here, then what? They end up hauling crates in some back alley job or scraping by as a fourth-rate adventurer.”
She fell silent.
“Pass or fail, most of the people here are headed for lives covered in sweat and dirt,” I continued. “There’s no glamour in either path.”
“So?”
“So we’ve got six months. And during that time, we can build ourselves up. Doesn’t matter whether they make it through this camp or not, whether they become adventurers or laborers. If they put in the work now, their bodies won’t betray them. That strength will carry over, one way or another.”
“I see.”
“The real purpose of this camp is to spot magical potential. Some people bloom in days, others take months. If you focused on magic training from the start, sure, it might help the naturally gifted. But for everyone else, it’d just be a waste.”
“You’re amazing, Ryuto-kun,” Koharu whispered, her voice tinged with admiration as she exhaled slowly, sensually. “I never even thought about it that way.” She tilted her head, still pondering. “But why bring Lilith into this? She clearly has talent. Wouldn’t she benefit more from solo study, refining her magic techniques on her own?”
“We’re different. Lilith and I… we’re special.”
“Special?” she echoed, puzzled.
“You’ll understand eventually,” I said simply.
The truth was, I’d already done everything I could to get stronger. Lilith still had some room to grow, but when it came to what the Academy could offer? She’d already mastered it long ago. The only area we’d both neglected was pure physical strength. Which made this setup, this insane camp regimen, surprisingly convenient for us.
Apparently, Cordelia made strength training a daily routine, considering it the foundation of everything. And honestly, after reaching a certain level, building up your physical base wasn’t meaningless. As far as one-month tune-up periods went, this wasn’t a bad deal at all.