The next morning...
“Now, I know you’ve all been waiting for this... To begin, I will reveal your basic scores, which have been awarded according to order of arrival. Fifth place, Class A!” Mr. Rias, Class E’s homeroom teacher, said with a pleasant smile.
Allen was nowhere to be seen, having muttered something along the lines of not caring about their score in the slightest and slinking off for another dip in the hot springs. After further exhausting the already weary boys from Class E with forced romantic gossip, he’d set out on his quest to conquer all of the various hot springs on offer at the Vanquish estate. While the large, open-air bath on the rooftop—which offered panoramic views of Lake Sitting—seemed to be the favorite of most of the students, Allen had instead found the compact, semiexposed bath on the mountain-facing side of the estate (usually only used by the caretakers and other servants) to be more his cup of tea.
Unlike the larger baths, which needed additional water added to them to maintain a suitable volume, the smaller tub—barely large enough to fit three people—only needed to rely upon the natural hot spring itself, which meant the temperature left a much more satisfying sting in Allen’s opinion. While the other bathing areas were adorned with lavish furnishings and decorations, the only splash of color in the servant’s bath came from the fallen leaves, which carpeted the faded wooden floorboards and the mountainside beyond in hues of red, orange, and gold.
Given its rather simplistic nature, the other students weren’t even curious to take a peek at the servant’s bath—let alone use it—meaning it was quiet and private, just like Allen preferred. The water, which had a faintly amber tinge to it, would have been known as a peat spring back in Allen’s native Japan, with the hot spring originating in a stratum where peat (essentially, decaying plant matter) was abundant. The high mineral content of said water also made one’s skin feel slick and slippery—like that of an eel—from the moment they immersed themselves, and was said to have incredible moisturizing properties. As the servant’s bath was intended for employees rather than guests, it didn’t feature the gender-segregated barriers of the other baths; a simple “IN USE” sign was instead provided to be hung on the door when occupied.
But Allen’s hot springs adventure was not the topic on most student’s minds at that moment.
The results for the first criteria—order of arrival at the Vanquish estate—were as follows:
5th Place: Class A (50 points)
4th Place: Class E (100 points)
3rd Place: Class C (125 points)
2nd Place: Class D (150 points)
1st Place: Class B (200 points)
“Next, I will announce your overall scores, which have been calculated based on the difficulty of each scenario and the level of quality to which it was completed,” Rias continued, chewing his lip nervously between each sentence.
The overall scores were derived from three separate numbers. The basic score for each class was awarded according to their arrival order. This basic score (in Class A’s case, 50 points) was then multiplied by the overall difficulty level of their scenarios, before being adjusted to the percentage to which they’d been deemed to have completed those scenarios. The definition of “completion” varied based on the specific scenario, but could include whether it had been finished by the given deadline, whether enough targets were eliminated during an extermination mission, and so on. For example, if Class A had only captured four out of the five “spies” during their fourth scenario, their completion rate would have been eighty percent. The algorithm used by the Royal Academy ensured that attempting to prioritize speed—and therefore, arrival order—over the actual scenario adjectives would usually decrease a class’s overall score, rather than increase it.
“First, Class E. Difficulty level 10, completion rate 90 percent. With a 100 point basic score, your overall score is 900 points—which is usually the score we’d expect to see from Class C students, by the way. You should be proud of yourselves,” Rias said. Class E burst into cheers, and received a round of applause from the other students.
Class D was next. With a difficulty level of 12 and a completion rate of 60 percent, their overall score of 1,080 points was in line with those of Class B in recent years. Then came Class C, whose score of 1,400 (difficulty level 14, completion rate 80 percent) actually exceeded the average Class A score. Their unprecedentedly high results could be partially attributed to Godolphen, who’d designed the scenarios for that year’s camping curriculum. Attempting to account for the extraordinary physical skills of the current batch of first-year students (skills honed in their daily training in the Hill Path Club), he’d increased the difficulty level of each group’s respective scenarios to make them significantly higher than previous years.
He hadn’t increased them enough, however. The students had handled the challenges with relative ease, rewarding them with far greater scores than the classes that had come before them. Incidentally, it was around this time that the Hill Path Club started being referred to as “the secret compulsory subject at the Royal Academy,” permanently cementing its status as one of Yugria’s most prestigious organizations.
And then there was Class B: difficulty level 16, completion rate 85 percent, and a jaw-dropping overall score of 2,720 points.
“That’s the third highest score a first-year class has achieved in Academy history. Congratulations, Class B,” Rias said. For a split second, there was only silence—and then, the entrance hall erupted with a thunderous wave of clapping and cheers.
“Yes!”
“We did it!”
“You get it now?! This is what Class B is really made of!”
The Class B students hugged each other in joyous celebration. Their exhilaration was justified, and their score well-deserved; they’d pushed themselves to their limits just as much as any of the other classes, and their results proved it. With a basic score of 200 points—four times that of Class A—and an excellent completion rate of 85 percent, it was no wonder they currently thought a crushing victory was all but guaranteed.
Rias clapped his hands, and silence fell once more. His encouraging smile of just moments before was gone, with his expression now devoid of any emotion at all. “Now... Based on the scores announced so far, you’ve achieved the highest average score in history for a first-year cohort. You should all be truly proud of yourselves.”
Uneasy whispers could be heard from every corner of the hall.
“What does that mean? What, has Class A gone and dragged us down and cost us the top spot?” Connie muttered, loud enough for Rias to hear him.