NoveLight ™
"Co-coach, by any chance, could you extend the training hours?"
"Huh?"
It was chick number 7, her name was Rose, right?
An enthusiastic female cadet who had appeared after the Levy Fault incident.
Although admirable, Ihan knew.
This wasn’t a request made because she wanted to become a knight.
"And also, if possible, I'd like to improve my stamina and physical abilities. Is that something we could work on?"
"It would be tough to improve that much in such a short time."
"You didn't say it was impossible, so I'll do it."
"…You’re worried about your fitness scores, aren’t you?"
"Yes."
A desperate struggle for survival.
How many now?
By today, more than ten cadets had already asked him to come up with new training regimens.
Some even came with potions, luxury chocolates, or whiskey, as if trying to bribe him.
But this wasn’t a real bribe; it was more like begging him to help them increase their stamina and athletic abilities, so Ihan couldn’t help but feel exasperated.
What is this, a gym?
And it wasn’t even summer yet, but it felt like they were urgently asking for crash courses to get six-packs before the beach season.
Well, whatever.
"Alright, no more bribery. If you want to improve your stamina and physical abilities, come every morning at 7 a.m. sharp, without missing a day. I can’t promise you'll get better at everything, but your stamina will definitely improve."
The cadets left with bright faces, looking like they’d gained a thousand allies now that Ihan had agreed to help them.
But those who had been through Ihan's real training knew the truth.
They weren’t avoiding a snake, they were heading straight for a cliff.
"They’re going to regret this."
"Seems like many will perish tomorrow."
Garand and Arno looked sympathetic as they imagined the cadets groaning in pain from the upcoming training.
Meanwhile—
"Urgh!"
"Why is there so much to memorize?"
"Can’t we just learn how to use swords? Why do we have to study to become knights?"
"Because you’re not knights yet."
"…That’s true."
While some would groan tomorrow, others were already groaning today.
Scratch, scratch.
Normally, the training ground would be filled with the sounds of wooden swords cutting through the air and jump ropes, but today, there were many cadets holding pens and pencils, buried in study.
The library and study halls had already been occupied, so these students had gathered at the training ground to study in groups.
Some of the bear-like students had even cleverly spread out their bear hides like mats and seemed to be studying comfortably.
…The hides that were supposed to be used as armor.
"Well, better than wasting money on nonsense, I guess?"
However, even those who were frugal with their resources were outdone by the rich brats who had bought desks and set up makeshift study halls in the training ground.
While Ihan had allowed them to use the space, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed by the wasteful display of wealth.
These rich kids really couldn’t help but flaunt their money.
"This is why I call you 'rich brats.'"
"We… we can hear you, coach."
"I know. That’s why I’m saying it, you fools. If you had studied earlier, you wouldn’t be in this situation now."
"We were… busy."
"Busy, my foot."
"……."
They had plenty to say but chose to stay silent, preferring to memorize one more fact than argue with him.
"Hmm."
Looking at the training ground, which had suddenly become a study space, a famous saying popped into Ihan’s head.
"From afar, it’s a comedy, but up close, it’s a tragedy."
Indeed, the scene was amusing, yet he couldn’t laugh at it.
Shaking his head, Ihan decided to focus on doing squats instead.
A modest goal of ten thousand squats.
At Pendragon Royal Academy, the exams were considered a 'Big Event' among the citizens of the capital.
Why, you ask?
Well, it wasn't just gossip; it was the plain truth.
Now, you might wonder why exams were categorized as a big event, but it was actually similar to the war game held the previous day.
"Do you know when the debate will take place?"
"I’m looking forward to the polo match! Oh, does it overlap with the tennis match?"
"Hmm, I’ll just wait for cricket."
"Why do you like boring cricket? I’d rather watch the yacht 'exam.'"
"Cricket has its own charm!"
"You're hopeless."
Given the Academy's emphasis on both physical and mental excellence, over 90% of the cadets had to take mandatory sports courses as part of their curriculum.
A healthy mind in a healthy body, as they say?
It wasn’t an unfamiliar idea.
In any case, cadets weren’t only evaluated on their written exams; they also had to excel in sports.
At the very least, they had to meet the average standard.
But for the citizens, these desperate exams were nothing more than rare chances to watch high-class leisure sports.
Surprisingly, the Academy opened its doors to the public during the exam periods, just like for the war games.
While officially, this was meant to showcase the cadets' skills and promote the Academy’s prestige, it was commonly believed that it was more about the nobles flaunting their superiority.
Still, watching these sports events provided the common folk with great entertainment.
No matter the era, sports had a way of uniting crowds and lifting spirits like nothing else.
…Perhaps someone had deliberately added sports courses to appeal to the masses.
To win the hearts of the people.
However, even these grand sporting events were secondary to the true highlight, the one that the intellectual and ruling class eagerly awaited:
"The idea of replacing written exams with debates and presentations—whose idea was that?"
Debates, exhibitions, and presentations were considered the pinnacle of academic evaluation.
It was brutal.
In fields like law, military studies, literature, and the arts, debates had to last at least 100 minutes, during which students were required to cite terms, examples, and papers covered in class.
Professors and invited scholars served as judges, and if a student failed to impress or demonstrate intellectual prowess, their score would drop instantly.
The same applied to exhibitions and presentations.
Experts and professors would assess how well-prepared, knowledgeable, and quick-thinking the cadets were under pressure.
It was less of an exam and more of a "real-world test."
"In the end, the Academy—no, the kingdom—wants more than just students who get good exam scores. They want individuals who can perform well in real situations. After all, anyone with good memory and comprehension can score well on an exam, right? That’s why the Academy emphasizes these grand stages like debates—to see how well the cadets can think on their feet, apply their knowledge, and show true competence. And thanks to these exams, the Academy consistently produces outstanding talents."
"……."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I just thought that was an annoying thing to say."
"Huh?"
Demian Paulet tilted his head, confused as to why his statement was problematic.
He had merely stated the obvious.
Despite his appearance, Demian was a gifted student, and Ihan thought the heavens were indifferent for giving such talent to someone with such a personality.
How could someone be so skilled and so insufferable at the same time?
‘So, people who can’t memorize are like goldfish, huh?’
Did this guy have any idea how difficult it was to master memory and comprehension? To call it "nothing" was absurd.
Ihan wanted to wring Demian’s neck but held back.
He still needed this lackey to get work done.
‘Still, the practical focus is good.’
He had to admit that the Academy—and the kingdom—were truly dedicated to producing capable talents.
They aimed to graduate only those who could handle real-world challenges.
It was, in a way, an early education haven for elite talent.
‘If I had attended here, I probably would have quit immediately.’
Debates and presentations were things Ihan would never have tolerated.
"So, each student has to give at least five presentations and debates, right?"
"It’s not mandatory, but if you don’t feel confident about your performance, quantity can make up for it."
"And if they don’t perform above average, they’re expelled?"
"Exactly. If they can’t respond well to the professors’ and scholars’ questions, they’re eliminated. That’s why students who don’t study consistently are at a disadvantage."
"And you? No problems, I bet?"
"Many nobles receive tutoring on potential exam topics and debate subjects before they even enter the Academy. That gives us an advantage."
"Ah, that explains it."
No wonder the noble chicks spent more time on sports than preparing for the debates and presentations.
They’d already been prepped by private tutors, so they could focus on their weaker subjects.
"Cunning little foxes."
"That’s how noble girls are. They may look pure and innocent, but they’re as sly as foxes."
"I’ll be sure to pass that along to the chicks."
"!!?"
"Just kidding."
"My heart nearly stopped! It wouldn’t surprise me if you actually did it!"
"Drama queen."
"I-I’m not exaggerating."
Ignoring the ashen-faced Demian, Ihan reflected on why there were so many dropouts at the Academy.
Considering the brutal nature of the exams, it was a wonder that even 10% managed to graduate.
"…Huh?"
As he reviewed the exam schedule, Ihan’s eyes widened.
Something wasn’t right.
"What is this? What’s going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"Look at the last day of the exam schedule."
The exams stretched over nearly two weeks.
But the last day stood out.
Unlike the other days, there were no written exams scheduled.
Only one thing was listed:
"Why is the swordsmanship exam the grand finale?"
The swordsmanship exam was marked as the main event, as if it were the climax of the entire schedule.
Ihan blinked in confusion.
But Demian, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, replied:
"Of course. It’s the biggest spectacle, after all."
"Did you just call it a spectacle?"
"Th-that was a slip of the tongue! But, really, isn’t it the main event of the exams?"
"Where’s your respect?"
Smack!
"Ow!"
A slave—no, an assistant—dared to talk back.
He still hadn’t learned his lesson.
Ihan rubbed his temples as he ignored the assistant, who was now clutching the back of his head in pain.
He read the schedule more carefully, trying to figure out why the swordsmanship exam was treated like the grand finale.
After a moment:
"…No wonder so many drop out."
He now understood why so many of the commoner cadets from the swordsmanship department resigned.
Because it was an exam no commoner or non-fighter could possibly pass.
[Single combat against a troll.]
It was a monster extermination.
But—
"…Why does this feel wrong?"
A strange sense of unease settled over Ihan as he looked at the troll-hunting portion of the exam.
He couldn’t understand why, but he felt oddly sympathetic toward the troll.