* * *
The atmosphere at Whitmore Academy was even gloomier than usual.
It was the first day of the written exams.
Perhaps because it was the day of the test, every student entering the main building looked tense—with the exception of the “chick-like” first years who had yet to taste the bitterness of exams.
Ruite was walking with a slight sense of nerves when he spotted a tall man’s head in the distance.
Recognizing Chester’s back, he quickened his pace and tucked himself in beside him.
“Wh-what the?”
“I acted my heart out with every ounce of my soul.”
“What?”
“When I sent the reply saying I couldn’t make it to the luncheon, my parents actually called the dormitory proctor’s communication port, can you believe it?”
He had nearly jumped out of his skin when he was told there was a call for him at the proctor’s office.
He had assumed they would simply accept his reply that he was unwell, but apparently not.
When his father worriedly asked how he could miss an event where he was the guest of honor, Ruite gathered every cough he could muster—real or fake—and delivered a flawless performance as a patient.
Completely fooled into believing his condition was serious, his father left her with worried well-wishes and told him not to worry about the luncheon, assuring him to just focus on recovering.
“I told you not to worry. See? I kept my promise.”
“Are you expecting a compliment?”
“Geez, you’re so cold. You probably had a much more comfortable meal because I wasn’t there.”
At that, Chester came to a dead halt.
He turned and shot Ruite a truly murderous glare.
“Exams start today. My concentration is already fragile, so don’t talk to me for no reason.”
With that, Chester sped off and entered the building first.
Ruite glanced around nervously.
He wanted to make sure no one thought it was strange that he had been talking quietly with Chester.
Of course, he didn’t really need to be this careful; it wasn’t like anyone would see them together and immediately suspect, “Wait, are those two in an arranged marriage…?”
But knowing Chester would be on guard against even the slightest slip-up, he found himself habitually checking his surroundings whenever they interacted.
Fortunately, everyone seemed too busy trying to escape the grim reality of the start of the testing period to pay attention to anyone else.
Whitmore’s tests were held twice a year and were divided into theory and practical portions.
A unique feature was that the General Studies Department only took theory exams, while the combat and magic departments had both.
The theory exams lasted for three days—though General Studies went for four days since they had more subjects to make up for the lack of practicals.
For the Swordmaster and Magic Engineering Departments, the practical tests took place the very next day after the theory exams ended.
Since the practical score made up a larger percentage of the final grade, the stakes were incredibly high.
During the three days of written exams, Ruite squeezed every bit of knowledge he had stored in him brain.
While his most desperate goal in life was to get Chester to break off the engagement, graduating from Whitmore safely was a goal of equal importance.
This was because of the flow of the original story. According to the original plot, Chester would ask for the annulment on “Graduation Day.”
What if he failed his grades, got held back, and couldn’t attend the ceremony?
Of course, the chances of the flow changing drastically just because of that were slim—Chester might just track his down personally to demand the breakup anyway.
Still, he didn’t want to leave even the smallest element of risk.
As a result of his frantic efforts, he felt he had handled the theory exams reasonably well.
“Everyone, good job on the theory tests.”
Harold tapped the stack of exam papers against the podium to straighten them.
His classmates, who had spent every ounce of their energy, were slumped over their desks, groaning in pain.
“Don’t get too comfortable yet. You haven’t forgotten the practical test tomorrow, have you?”
A chorus of laments erupted immediately.
Practical grades were as important as their percentage suggested, and as the years went by, the difficulty level rose significantly.
From the third year onward, the tests moved away from the basic drills of the first and second years and became “real-world” scenarios.
“I’m sure you’ve heard plenty from the upperclassmen, so you should have a rough idea of what to expect… Tomorrow at 3:00 PM, do not come to this classroom. Gather at the East Exit. I’ll announce the details there. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
With a final reminder to manage their physical condition, Harold left the room.
“Lu, how did the exams go?”
On the way back to the dormitory, Colin naturally fell into step beside him.
“Hmm, okay, I guess?”
“Oh, sounding confident?”
“…I feel like I shouldn’t be saying that in front of you.”
After Chester, the person with the most outstanding grades in the Magic Engineering Department was Colin Railguns.
People often said Chester had everything, but Ruite actually thought the description fit Colin better.
While Chester had a slight “personality flaw,” Colin was perfect in that department too.
“I’m worried about the practical tomorrow, though. It’s supposed to be actual combat-style.”
Before they knew it, they had arrived at the dormitory entrance.
“Yeah, true. I’m nervous.”
“Lu, you know there’s absolutely no soul in your voice, right?”
Colin burst into a small laugh. He teased Ruite, saying that sometimes he acted like someone who had already lived a full lifetime.
‘Well, Colin, try finding out you’re going to die in the future—specifically, a gruesome death at the hands of someone close to you.’
One would have to become detached just to survive that kind of stress.
“Talking to you strangely makes all my nerves vanish,” Colin said with a bright smile, playfully ruffling Ruite’s hair. Ruite winced slightly at the sudden touch but didn’t pull away.
Just then, footsteps approached from behind.
Chester was staring at Ruite with his usual expression. His sharp gaze really never changed, he thought.
“Get out of the way. Don’t block the path.”
Ruite looked around blankly.
It wasn’t like this was the only entrance to the dorm; he wondered if “blocking the path” was even the right description.
Regardless, he stepped aside without a word, and Chester brushed past him.
Before opening the door to go inside, he turned back and cast a glance at Ruite.
“I think you, of all people, need to have a bit more of a sense of urgency.”
He didn’t even have to wonder who he was talking to.
He could tell just by his eyes that the “you” referred to him.
“Did Chester mess up his exams? He seems to be in a bad mood.”
“Seems so.”
Ruite smiled awkwardly.
He was glad Colin was so cheerful and oblivious.
He likely had no idea that Chester just disliked him.
“Well, Lu, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
After entering the dorm, Ruite parted ways with Colin and headed to his room.
Following Harold’s advice, he figured the best thing to do today was absolutely nothing—just resting and recharging his stamina for tomorrow.
As soon as he entered his room, he tossed his bag in a corner and went straight for the bed.
The best thing about Whitmore Academy was that every student had a private room.
Because of this, there were two whole dormitory buildings.
One building was for 1st and 2nd years, and the other for 3rd and 4th years.
It seemed they couldn’t have the minority groups of Omegas and Alphas living together, and since giving only Betas shared rooms would lead to discrimination issues, they moved everyone to private rooms.
“Ah, I’m exhausted.”
Splayed out like a starfish on top of the blankets, Ruite groaned as he savored the rest.
Perhaps because his body had been so tense during the exams, his shoulders felt particularly stiff.
‘Still, once tomorrow is over, the exams will be completely finished. I’ll be free from this fatigue for a while.’
Ruite slowly closed his eyes, hoping that tomorrow’s test would pass safely without any incidents.
The next day dawned, and the students of Magic Engineering Class 3 headed toward the East Exit at the time Harold had specified.
There were three main exits in the Whitmore main building.
There were the front and back gates to the south and north that led outside, and the third was this one to the east.
Passing through here didn’t lead to the outside world, but to a specific territory owned by the academy—an area strictly off-limits to unauthorized personnel.
Students, of course, couldn’t enter normally; they could only go in with a professor’s permission and accompaniment for special occasions like today’s test.
Beyond the entrance, the path turned to dirt.
Unlike the clean and beautiful scenery of the main academy grounds, the atmosphere here shifted entirely.
Most students were usually surprised the first time they heard this wild area was still part of the academy property.
“Alright, is everyone here?”
At Harold’s words, the students lined up in three rows looked up in unison, casting their gazes into the distance.
They swallowed hard, silently staring at the sight unfolding before their eyes.
* * *
