Chapter 89: Midterm Exams (6)

A pitch-dark chamber where not even an inch ahead could be seen.

When a faint breeze stirred, a dim light illuminated the inside.

At the center of the chamber stood a large round table.

Soon, faint presences began to appear one by one where there had been no one before.

They all looked like intangible phantoms, barely visible.

The first to speak was the archbishop seated at the head of the table.

Let’s begin with a status report.

The north is the same. The spread of the rift is progressing at a steady pace.

Same for the south. Nothing to intervene in on our side.

Baum failed to excavate the temple. It seems to have been a decoy planted in ancient times.

Each person seated around the table spoke in turn, reporting their recent results.

Amid this, the archbishop’s gaze turned to someone.

It was the apostle who had rendered great service by opening the Holy War in the Erendal Forest.

Well, as for me, it’s been the same since then. I haven’t noticeably gotten stronger or received anything like the others.

Do not act rashly. Blessings come without warning—when you are least aware of it.

Yes, sir.

The man shrugged.

Then, an apostle seated elsewhere stroked his chin and spoke.

The Holy War opened, but no singularity occurred.

Rather, that guy got the credit, didn’t he?

A remarkable fellow indeed. Someone who should have died is brazenly alive and even received a medal.

Is he truly the adversary?

At the disordered chatter, the archbishop furrowed his brow deeply.

This is a sacred place. Do not speak without grounds.

……

Under the archbishop’s razor-sharp aura, the apostles closed their mouths.

Within the Cult, especially before the round table, his authority was absolute.

Serena, what about the revelation?

……Nothing has changed.

The woman called upon by the archbishop let out a short sigh.

Nerian Hopenheim was fated to die long ago. But he survived, creating a variable, and now he’s become an irregular. People may be keeping quiet, but as of now, he’s the most likely adversary.

The apostles, the backbone of the Cult, received grace from the main god upon reaching a certain realm.

The form of this grace varied by apostle—in Serena’s case, she could glimpse the future.

Based on Serena’s awakened foresight, the Cult had restored its shaken prestige and steadily built power in secret until now.

But now, faces that should not exist had suddenly appeared, and those fated to die had survived—unforeseen variables kept emerging.

The Cult had poured all its efforts into removing such variables to restore the flow, but by now, they had reached a point where they could not touch them carelessly.

They no longer knew what new variables their intervention might bring to the future.

But it’s certain that Nerian Hopenheim must die. I can stake my eyes on that.

Nerian Hopenheim’s personal details appeared above the table.

A handsome face with the Hopenheim family’s characteristic forget-me-not-colored blend.

At least among the apostles present, none were unfamiliar with his face.

By the way, what about Damian?

……Considering he has yet to appear, it’s safe to assume he’s dead. He’s not the type to betray or vanish.

Tsk, that clumsy fool. I sent him to the capital to help Serena.

Damian, once a strong candidate for apostleship, had gone missing—something the Cult could not ignore.

Someone displayed another cadet’s details above the table.

The last person he met was Carlos Leipzig?

Yes. Since he was taking the Bayern Academy entrance exam, they seemed to have traveled together, but……

He disappeared cleanly midway.

As if erased from the world.

But they could not simply go and ask Carlos directly.

If Carlos himself was the killer, they too would be exposed.

They needed to maintain absolute secrecy now, so they could not act rashly.

Hm.

The archbishop pondered.

The adversary referred to an existence that opposed their god.

Some called him a hero, others a champion, and some a saint.

The conditions for an adversary are to defy death, possess an extraordinary soul, and bear a god within. No one fits better than Nerian.

At one apostle’s words, everyone nodded.

The distortion of defying the fate of death.

The extraordinariness of the Power of Ice.

And the heroic bloodline of Hopenheim.

Bearing a god meant the potential to become one—a path leading beyond hero, champion, and saint to demi-god.

From the archbishop’s perspective, based on the revealed conditions alone, no one matched Nerian more.

Carefully, slowly.

After deep thought, the archbishop finally made his decision.

Before the year ends, cut the bud. We’ll decide who will act in the next meeting.

Beneath the surface, where no one knew.

This was the moment Nerian’s fate was decided.

While factions in the Empire’s underworld fought for influence and the Cult’s secret round table plotted in shadows—

Bayern Academy’s midterm exams were still underway.

Only three days had passed, yet exhaustion was already plain on the cadets’ faces as they walked the campus.

The exams required not only quick thinking for theory but also considerable physical work for practice and application.

And for classes heavily weighted toward practice, the Understanding of Combat included live-combat comprehension.

The Reflex Test had already been completed on the first day.

Carl had split a total of eight targets with a bit over 70% accuracy.

For his class, that ranked him around 30th—above average.

Now it was the main test for Understanding of Combat.

They were in the middle of a survival match.

Three random cadets were grouped into a party and gained points through field activities.

The way to earn points was simple.

Acquire symbols or items placed throughout the field, defeat roaming monsters, or attack and bring down other parties.

In this dangerous world, everyone except your own party was the enemy.

‘Not a bad composition.’

Louis Wolfsburg, having been assigned his party and moved into the field’s interior, checked the members before him.

His subordinate Caden was a convenient workhorse—loyal and tenacious, making him an excellent asset for survival-type tests like this.

The other was Carlos Leipzig.

Although his practical skills were slightly weaker, it wasn’t enough to call him useless.

While his physical ability was a bit lacking, his sharp mind made him a valuable asset when it came to setting up the game or devising strategies.

“No need for introductions on my side. Carl, this is Caden—my friend.”

“I’m Carl.”

“Oh, pleased to meet you.”

Under Louis’s lead, Caden and Carl exchanged greetings.

With a faint smile, Louis nodded at the sight, then spoke.

“Now, it’s time to come up with our party’s strategy. I already have something in mind, but do either of you have other suggestions?”

“Not me.”

“None here.”

“Good.”

He hadn’t planned to listen anyway, but formalities were important.

After all, even this conversation was being fully recorded.

“We’re going to target cadets who are farming items or hunting monsters.”

“Mhm. Go for the backstab, huh?”

“Sounds good. Efficient.”

Louis looked at Carl.

Usually, this kind of attitude belonged to a righteous model student.

Yet Carl nodded without resistance at the suggestion to deliberately hunt for points.

“Are you fine with that?”

“No problem. Points are what matter.”

“……Right, points are what matter.”

Louis liked Carl’s answer.

One could say attacking other cadet parties was underhanded.

But this was a test—a game.

As long as it didn’t cross into inhumane acts, any strategy was allowed, and cadet hunting fell within those rules.

“Whether high-ranking or low-ranking cadets, the points are the same, so we’ll focus strictly on weaker parties. If we run into people like Nerian or Laysis, we retreat immediately—keep that in mind.”

“Okay, I’d rather avoid them too.”

“Understood.”

The strategy was set.

With only a minute left before the survival match began in earnest, they moved to secure a favorable position.

“……Wow, they did a great job here.”

The field was a ruined city.

Caden let out a low exclamation at the brutally realistic scene unfolding before them.

Carl felt the same.

The entire field was an illusion created by spatial distortion.

Even if they attacked one another, no physical injuries would occur—only mental shock, at worst causing unconsciousness.

To think such realistic environments could be created with magic—

Artenia’s technology never ceased to amaze.

Beep, beep-beep.

While checking the archive, Caden spotted something.

If they entered a certain range around an item or monster, the archive’s mapping system would link to it.

It was the same function they had used in the Erendal Forest, now integrated as a standard feature thanks to accumulated data.

Sssk.

The item worth points was inside an abandoned factory on the city outskirts.

Carl’s party lay in wait on the hill opposite, ready for prey to approach.

Step.

After about five minutes, faint footsteps reached their ears.

The cadets immediately suppressed their breathing, crouched low, and kept their eyes on the factory.

“……There they are.”

“Looks like this is it.”

“Okay, that’s 3 points guaranteed.”

Their voices, though subdued as if aware of outside observation, still carried a note of excitement.

Failing to control their emotions after scoring meant they were green, inexperienced.

Seeing the moment ripen, Louis glanced at Carl.

Rustle.

Carl slowly pulled on a string he had tied earlier—a lure meant to draw attention.

When the other party exited the factory, he yanked it sharply.

Clatter! Crash!

Near the factory, a pile of stacked barrels toppled over with a loud crash.

The cadets who had been cheerfully stepping outside with their prize were startled by the commotion.

When everyone’s eyes turned toward the noise, Louis struck.

‘First target—the mage.’

Tap!

Leaping with force, he landed squarely on a cadet’s shoulder.

There was nothing more to do—

The impact alone knocked the cadet unconscious.

“……Louis!”

“Sorry about this. But it’s just an exam, right?”

Louis shrugged and swung his sword at the remaining two.

At the same time, Caden rushed in from the other side to draw more attention, and finally, Carl joined in to take down the last two with ease.

“Each cadet was worth 3 points, right?”

“That’s already 9 points secured.”

“And we’ve got the item too.”

Three cadets and one item—

They had earned a total of 12 points.

Exchanging satisfied smiles, they looked at each other.

“Then, shall we go find our next prey?”

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