I Became The Academy’s Narrow-Eyes
Chapter 68: The Entrance Ceremony (1)

“Although I am inadequate! To my classmates who have put their trust in me and assigned me this position of representative, I will not dishonor you and will do my utmost!”

Ceylon’s concluding words in his speech caused his classmates’ eyes to bulge.

What a nonsense.

When did we ever appoint you as our representative?

You stole that position by force.

Their expressions seemed to cry out just that.

From the stage, Ceylon gazed down at his classmates, his typically slight smile tightening even more around the eyes and mouth.

‘This is the flavor of being the top student.’

He bowed his head in satisfaction amidst the smattering of applause.

-Applause

Matching his gesture, Herion Dederer, the representative instructor of the swordsmanship department, sent forth an applause.

Following which, all eyes of the swordsmanship department’s freshmen turned towards Drin Lebringer.

The genius fencer who bore all the expectations of the academy’s swordsmanship students and instructors.

Initially, she should have been the star of this moment.

The freshmen thought to themselves.

If I, as a third party, am this infuriated, how much worse must the person concerned feel?

With anxious faces, they scrutinized Drin Lebringer’s reaction.

-Applause

Drin Lebringer, however, was sending Ceylon a composed applause.

Considering her usual demeanor, from her standpoint, that might count as passionate applause.

Her expression clearly held frustration and disappointment.

But over that, a resolve to overcome.

Other students could understand the meaning of that expression.

Disappointed and frustrated but acknowledging.

However, I will surpass you without fail.

It was one of the greatest forms of respect a martial artist could offer another.

Next was Kasha Hanahan, the only one who could arguably have stood shoulder to shoulder with the unassailable Drin Lebringer.

Would she ever accept the fact that someone as senseless as him had taken the position of top student?

-Applause. Applause.

But she, too, while appearing prickly, was sending a hearty clap that, considering her usual aura, might be called passionate.

-Applause

Agion Morci, who would have been the star of this unexpected twist, was unsurprisingly upset.

Even though he seemed almost afraid to make eye contact with Ceylon, he diligently continued to clap.

-Applause

Adella, who had removed her white gloves, elegantly sent her applause.

-Applause!

Melhen, appearing not too pleased but, following Adella’s lead, delivered a powerful applause befitting his stature.

-Applause applause applause

Adryn and Mizu, gleefully applauding as if it were their own joy to celebrate.

All the stars of this year’s entrance exams acknowledged Ceylon’s top position, displaying their respect and recognition.

With this, even those who were reluctant to accept him had no choice but to do so.

One or two claps among the swordsmanship freshmen soon multiplied, forming an enormous jubilation.

The grand auditorium was filled with celebratory noise.

Only half, though.

The auditorium was now split into two sections.

To the right, looking towards the podium, sat the swordsmanship department’s freshmen; to the left were the freshmen of the magic department.

While the swordsmen were diligently moving their arms to send their accolades to the top student…

The magicians were busily moving their mouths instead.

“That fool is the top student?”

“They’ve been making such a fuss about the swordsmanship freshmen, and that’s what they have to show for it—”

“Chuckling, the top student seems impressive in an entirely different sense.”

“As always, those brutes make far too much noise without substance.”

“You know how it is. Pretending to be something grand is just natural for those guys.”

“Well, thanks to that, they’ve shown their true colors.”

“By the way, isn’t that guy a commoner?”

“To give the position of top student to a commoner. Oh, how generous they are!”

“Does this mean that before education, there’s no difference between nobles and commoners? Wow, such high pride among swordsmen. Chuckle.”

“In that case, we’ll have to treat the swordsmanship department as commoners now, won’t we? As they desire.”

They sent generous ridicule and mockery towards the swordmanship department freshmen represented by that simple-eyed young man.

Martial artists who walk the path represented by swordsmanship.

And the magicians.

Around them swirled never-ending debates.

Martial arts versus magic.

Which manages mana more efficiently, more systematically?

Which is superior?

Which is stronger?

Naturally, the martial artists believed their path to be superior, dismissing the magicians as cowards and cowards who fear mana.

Naturally, the magicians believed their magic to be superior, ridiculing martial artists as savages who crudely and brutishly wield mana.

Thus, there was an inherent competitive and disdainful tendency between magicians and martial artists.

Though as mature power wielders, they tend to adopt a cooler perspective without such prejudices, even then, deep down they fully believed the technique they employed was superior.

But what about the hot-blooded academy cadets, who were but toddlers in terms of their abilities as power wielders?

It was natural for the academy’s swordmanship and magic departments to be fierce competitors and sworn enemies.

Ever since the academy’s founding, this rivalry had continued, now evolving into a full-fledged culture.

The academy’s administration subtly encouraged this competitive structure, claiming that such rivalry spurs their competitive spirits and, in turn, directly leads to the desire for growth.

Thus, competition between the freshman swordsmanship and magic departments had already started at this entrance ceremony.

Magic department freshmen began to ridicule the swordsmanship department’s top student.

“…”

“…”

“…”

The swordsmen seated at the edges, near the magicians.

From the outset, unlike they were boasting about Ceylon as their representative, they scowled at the magic department’s mockery of Ceylon.

It’s fine for us to find that nitwit disagreeable.

Why? Because that simpleton is our representative, after all.

However, we swordsmanship students cannot tolerate those geeky kids from the magic department mocking our representative, that ditzy guy.

It’s a psychological thing; we can insult our representative if we want to because he’s ours.

“Chuckle, just look at that nitwit standing there with his hands together. Is he being punished or what?”

“So basically, all of you swordsmanship kids lost to that dimwit?”

Hearing Ceylon’s speech and watching him take his place among the ranks, two male students from the magic department murmured to each other.

Unable to contain himself, a swordsmanship student, Melhen, finally spoke up.

“Hey.”

Even while seated, Melhen’s frame appeared to be two or three times larger than anyone else’s.

He peered towards the magic department, easily spotting the two male students who had mocked Ceylon, and glared at them fiercely.

“Huh?”

“What? Are you calling us?”

The two were average in stature, nowhere near capable of matching Melhen’s bulk.

“Yeah, you weaklings.”

The term ‘weakling’ would apply by swordsmanship standards to those of smaller stature.

“Chuckle, did he just call us weaklings?”

“They actually use words like that?”

Unintimidated by the massive discrepancy in physique, the two remained undaunted.

If another magician had Melhen’s imposing figure, they would not have hesitated to commend him. But he was from the swordsmanship department.

To the magicians’ eyes, Melhen’s large build was just a ‘pointlessly oversized brute body.’

“Just asking out of curiosity, are you a magician who can transform into an orc and happens to be sitting with the swordsmanship department?”

“What?”

“If that’s not the case, I’d prefer if you didn’t talk to us. I have no desire to interact with barbarians.”

Melhen smiled savagely.

“Right, there’s no benefit to conversing with you lot. Meet me at the entrance of the training hall in one hour. I challenge you to a duel over this matter, so no running away scared, got it?”

“Chuckle, a duel? So traditional.”

“As expected, his thinking is as brutish as his physique.”

“He’s blabbering on because he’s too afraid and begging us to stop.”

“Hey, orc.”

One of the male students indicated Ceylon with a gesture of his chin.

“I’ve seen you putting on quite the tough act since earlier, but it’s laughable that someone who lost to that dimwit during the entrance exam dares to speak.”

Melhen snorted with a look of amused contempt. Memories flashed in his mind of his proud compatriot, Agion Morci, being toyed with by Ceylon—despite his gifted skill.

That remarkable footwork.

Without a doubt, those weaklings from the magic department would be knocked out without even having a chance to react.

Melhen spoke with overflowing confidence.

“Really? Then why don’t you, try challenging our top student to a duel. If you manage to beat him—or rather, if you survive even a minute against our top student, I will become your dog.”

The two male students looked at each other, almost on the brink of laughter when suddenly,

The boisterous atmosphere on the side of the magic department came to an immediate hush.

Herion Dederer, representative of the swordsmanship department entrance exams, had stepped down, and a new figure took his place.

Representing one of the continent’s greatest magical lineages of the Eight Great Houses and owner of the Yellow Magic Tower:

Dugan Elosis from the Elosis family.

He was the representative of the magic department entrance exams. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ɴ0velFɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

If sturdy Herion Dederer resembled a gentle boulder, Dugan Elosis was like a weighty feather.

Filled with an overwhelming sense of grace, he began his speech about the magic department entrance exams and its participants in a way markedly different from Herion.

If Herion appeared ‘impressed’ with outstanding participants,

Dugan’s attitude towards them was ‘useful.’

“Top student, Phibian Leolalian.”

Dugan emerged, considering Phibian the most useful and praiseworthy top student of the magic department.

-Applause applause applause

In stark contrast to Ceylon’s time, resounding acclaims filled the air.

Phibian was, in a sense, the magic department’s equivalent of Drin Lebringer.

The proud heiress from Leolalian, one of the esteemed Eight Great Houses and the participant most likely to achieve top student status.

The magic department was proud and eager to showcase their top student, whom they wanted to be their representative.

The magicians gave a smile of superiority looking at the nearby swordsmanship students. The atmosphere differed significantly from when Ceylon, the swordsmanship department’s top student, was introduced.

It was during this moment of profound reflection when the swordsmanship department freshmen belatedly experienced deep regret.

“Huh…?”

“What is he doing…?”

The magicians murmured incredulously, looking at someone.

Ceylon.

He, representing the swordsmanship department, was now giving an enthusiastic applause to Phibian, who represented the magic department.

Another swordsmanship student would never have done so out of pride.

But coming from Ceylon, who had a goofy demeanour, it did not feel out of place.

With the top student setting the example, other freshmen had no reason to hesitate.

The students with top swordsmanship grades, led by Drin Lebringer, began to join in the applause for the top student.

“…Ah!”

Realizing something, other freshmen also enthusiastically began clapping.

With the entrance of the top student from the magic department, the swordsmanship students started giving spirited ovations.

In stark contrast to the magic department freshmen, who earlier chose to scorn and deride their own top student.

Thus,

The swordsmanship freshmen became known for their generous spirit.

And the magic department students suddenly found themselves looking petty.

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