“You sure are cheeky for a peasant!”
“Yes! Cheeky, that’s what I am. Please punish me more!”
The day I was transported to the game was the start of term at the Academy, the day of the entrance ceremony. It had been a week since, and I was getting used to the school. My connection with Claire had also steadily deepened—in my opinion, anyway.
When I went to greet her, as I did every morning, her reaction was the same as always. Her entourage had given up, perhaps because I remained unaffected by their jibes. They lacked conviction; they could learn a thing or two from Claire. Not that I was complaining—it was far easier to talk to Claire now that her minions no longer got in my way.
“I won’t be made a fool of every time!”
“Oh?”
There was something different about Claire today. She continued, smile unwavering. “You are aware of tomorrow’s test, are you not?”
“Of course.”
It wouldn’t be much different from the exams I had taken in Japanese schools, except in subject matter. Students at the Academy were assessed on culture, etiquette, and magic. Apparently, only culture and etiquette had been relevant in the past, but the introduction of the meritocratic system necessitated the inclusion of magic. At least, that was what I’d read in Revolution’s character guide.
The world of Revolution was in the process of, well, revolution. The catalyst had been the discovery of a special kind of stone, which had prompted the invention of magical tools and led to technical innovation. The magical tools were changing the world, and countries were competing to use them most effectively.
Speaking of which—the child version of Claire described in the character guide was a little angel. As I basked in that fond memory, though, Claire suddenly grabbed my chin and lifted it.
“The test will decide things, once and for all. If I win, you will leave the school.”
“What? No, I don’t want that.”
“Oh no?” Claire’s voice got sharper, but for once, it didn’t excite me. “Is the top-scoring new student a coward, then?”
“But if I leave the Academy, I won’t be able to play with you any longer, Miss Claire.”
“Would you seriously stop saying such things?”
“Ha ha ha. You’re so silly.”
“I’m the one who is silly?! Me?!”
However, as I indulged in my teasing, I remembered this was one of the events of the game. In fact, Claire presented the heroine with a variety of challenges through the entire course of Revolution, the first of which was beating her in the start-of-term tests.
“How about this?” I said. “If you can’t beat me, then you must grant me a favor.”
“Wh-what? Why in the world…?”
“Hmm? Are you the coward, then? I thought you were at the top of the class of continuing students.”
The Royal Academy encompassed kindergarten, elementary, junior high, high school, and university, and its students fell into two groups: those who had enrolled in kindergarten and continued on, and those who transferred in later. The player character was the best of the incoming transfer students, and Claire was the best of the students who had attended from the first. The continuing students were mainly aristocrats while the transfer students were mainly commoners, and the two groups generally didn’t get along. It was considered quite the tragedy when a noble student had to share a dorm room with a commoner.
“So you accept my challenge?” Claire demanded. “Very well. I accept your terms.”
“Heh heh. Thank you.”
“What do you imagine you’re thanking me for? You may as well pack your bags now.”
“Yes! Thank you for the encouragement!”
“I most certainly am not—ugh! Misha!”
“What is it?” Misha had been watching us from the sidelines, but she came over when Claire called her.
“Will you be our witness? If I achieve the higher score on this test, this commoner will leave the Academy. If, for some reason, I can’t beat her, I will grant her a single favor.”
“Expulsion and enrollment within the institute are decided by the King, you know. I don’t think such a condition can be enforced.”
“There will be no need to enforce it. The commoner will leave the school of her own accord, shamed by her lack of talent.” Claire let out her shrill laugh, as if she had already won.
“Are you really okay with this, Rae?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s decided. We can’t have her going back on your promise, so you will be the witness, Misha. That’s fine with you, isn’t it, commoner?”
“Yes! Just thinking about doing something for Miss Claire makes me so excited!”
“I will not lose! Now, swear to God!”
“Swear to God!”
“And I am witness to your accord…”
In this world, swearing to God was deeply significant. Breaking such a vow was nigh unthinkable for both aristocrats and commoners.
That was just how Claire and I finally broke the ice.
The day of the test had come.
The first subject was culture, which covered the history and literature of the Bauer Kingdom. For example:
Question:
Discuss the flaws of the policies of King Cooley III and how they were remedied during Bauer’s Great Famine of 1827.
Or,
Question:
Identify and discuss problems and potential solutions for one major industry of the kingdom.
Or,
Question:
Compose a poem using classical meter.
As you can see, the questions weren’t particularly relevant to daily life. In a world where relatively few commoners were literate, nobility like Claire possessed an overwhelming advantage when it came to the subject of culture. And since there were only two other tests, this also gave her an advantage when it came to our overall scores, which were combined from those three tests.
“That was hard…” I murmured.
Revolution allowed the player to gather information through actions like studying before they took the test. Though the questions were posed in essay format, the game itself presented you with multiple choice answers, so you just had to pick the right one. Most players tended to look up walkthroughs for the answer keys, which was still time-consuming, given the sheer number of questions.
The next test was on etiquette, conducted in the form of a formal meal. The exam began before students even entered the banquet room that served as its venue, with the examiner scoring them on things like their dress, their posture, the way they greeted others in the room, and even where their eyes lingered while they ate. It went far beyond such things as how to handle which of the twenty or so pieces of cutlery. Of course, Claire, as an aristocrat, had an overwhelming advantage here as well.
In the game, this test was also multiple choice. For example, you could choose whether you wore black or white clothes, or what greeting to give when entering the room, where to rest your gaze, etc. Most players looked up the answers for this online, too.
“It’s actually pretty tricky when you have to do it yourself,” I mused.
The last test assessed our magical ability, and it was the only one where commoners really had a shot at beating nobility. In fact, the king’s new merit-based policy could more accurately be called a magical power-based policy. An individual’s aptitude for using high-tech magic tools was innate and unrelated to their social status. The king feared Bauer would be left behind by the changing times if he continuing catering solely to the nobles’ wishes; the aristocrats, nevertheless, chafed at his supposed system of meritocracy because magical power had nothing to do with family or lineage.
The magic test took place outdoors. There were two assessments, one for basic magical power and another for wielding magical tools. Basic magical power was measured by a device, and it came in four kinds of aptitudes: earth, water, fire, and wind. A person generally possessed one aptitude, which was rated on a five-point scale: none, low, medium, high, and super. While magical ability could be improved through training, it was fundamentally an immutable inborn quality.
Claire had a high aptitude for fire, which really did suit her. The interests of the game developers were sometimes obvious.
The test of magical tool operation required wielding a wand, a general-purpose tool that could be used to create various phenomena. This test would be to see how far we could make a magic bullet fly.
“Well, that was easy enough.”
In the game, magical power could be increased through the “magic training” action, and in the test, the bullet’s flight distance was determined by a rhythm game. It was by far the simplest test and only required good timing, so there was no need to look up answers or anything. However, some players insisted on comparing their bullet flight scores, and Revolution had rankings on its website. First place scored some free gifts from the game developers, but anyone who went that far cared more about the record itself than prizes. My last personal best was tens of times higher than the average.
At any rate, those were the exams. After spending all day in testing, I was exhausted.
“And so, I’m here to reenergize!”
“Would you please go home?”
Claire shooed me off when I showed up at her room, looking tired herself. Aww.