[110] End-of-Term Report Card (2)
"Yeah. How about you guys? Sucks that the break's over, huh?"
Nade's face immediately fell.
"I'm going crazy. I have to get 80 or above in every subject for the rest of the term—this is killing me."
"Heh! Why not use this chance to try for promotion?"
The only way to move from Class Five to Class Four was to score 80 or above in every subject. It wasn't an average of 80—so the bar was extreme.
"That goes without saying. Isn't that what every student thinks?"
"True enough. Well, do your best."
Nade had expected encouragement and looked stunned. But Alpheas School of Magic's policy was firm. Students weren't racehorses to be pushed. Let them loose on the pasture and they'd figure out their worth by themselves.
"Want us to help a bit?"
Shirone rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward to help pull weeds.
"Heh. I won't let you take the old man's only pleasure away. I'll pull the weeds myself; you lot go off and do whatever you like."
Disappointment flashed in Nade's eyes. His plan to use weed-pulling as an excuse to escape reality for a bit had been dashed.
"All right. Take care, then."
Worry lingered on Shirone and the others' faces as they headed back to the dormitory. The same unease weighed on the rest of the students. The campus was still unsettled after the Arkein attack; concentrating on studies like before wasn't easy.
Frustration built until Nade exploded.
"Ah. This is driving me mad. I should be studying. Study! Study! I can't concentrate at all."
"You always go off the rails after a big outburst. Didn't you do the same after the presentation?" Iruki said, and Shirone let out a heavy sigh.
"Still, you're better off than me. I've got at least twice as many subjects I need to raise to eighty as you do. I don't know if it's possible."
"I'm only good at math. I'm awful at the humanities. In that sense, Nade's actually in the best position."
"What are you talking about? I don't really have any strong subject. Shirone and you will aim for the top in practicals, but I can't even do that—so I'm the most disadvantaged."
Class Five's practical exam evaluated Spirit Zone usage more than magic. With Shirone's Immortal Function and Iruki's Servant Syndrome, either could place high in any practical. Nade, however, had to compete on equal terms with everyone else's Spirit Zone.
"All this thinking is giving me a headache. How about we just take today off and start tomorrow?"
Nade's suggestion was met with silence. Even model student Shirone had shut his mouth—apparently his motivation was shaken.
"Huh? Guys, look—over there…"
When Shirone pointed toward Central Park, Nade and Iruki turned and their eyes widened.
"What? How are they here?"
Canis and Arin were walking the campus. When their eyes met Shirone's group, they came over. Canis raised his hand as a greeting.
"Hey there. Classes over already? The facilities are fine, but they're treating the kids far too gently."
"You! What are you scheming this time?"
Nade stepped in front of them. He'd heard from Sade that the two had been released, but he'd thought that was the end of it—no ties from now on. It had to be over. So why were they strolling on campus?
Shirone asked, "What brings you here? Any business at the school?"
Canis looked at Shirone without answering. The person he watched most closely on campus wasn't Alpheas or the teachers but Shirone—the one who'd handed him his first loss. If he couldn't surpass him, no matter how strong he got, it would all be for nothing.
"Listen carefully. If we face off again, the result will be the exact opposite of last time."
Before Shirone could reply, Nade shot back.
"This guy still hasn't learned his lesson? You've got at least ten years to go before you beat Shirone."
"You'd probably need another ten years yourself to properly challenge me."
Nade's face twisted. The memory of Shirone fighting for his life revived violent feelings; murderous intent flashed through his mind. Iruki, not wanting unnecessary trouble, cut things off.
"Knock it off. Never mind that—why are you here?"
"We're here to scope out a place to stay."
"Huh?"
Shirone and the others gaped at the unexpected answer.
"Exactly as I said. Figured it'd be interesting to experience whatever this Magic Academy is like."
Nade rolled up his sleeves and snapped, "There's limits to making light of the Magic Academy! Who'd accept someone like you?"
Canis held up a finger and corrected him.
"Call me senior."
"What?"
"Address me as 'senior.' I checked—you're Class Five, right? I'm Class Four."
Shirone and his friends were dumbfounded. Alpheas must have accepted them. But being placed straight into Class Four upon entry—rare, though not impossible.
"What are you so shocked about? We're disciples of a great mage. We've learned all the basics of magic. It's ridiculous to treat us the same as idle brats like you."
Stung but biting their tongues, Shirone's group kept quiet. Ten years under Arkein had honed the duo's magic to a level that might even outclass Class Four.
"So from now on, call us 'senior.'"
"Ridiculous! You'll be attending starting next semester anyway, right? By then we'll have been promoted to Class Four too!"
"Really? Your grades were way worse than I expected. Honestly disappointing. You struggled against such inferior people?"
Canis had already checked Shirone's group's grades and friendships. He'd expected competitors for the top, so learning they were mid-rank in Class Five was a shock.
Still, no one in the advanced class disdained them. The consensus was that if they wanted, they could surge upward at any time.
With Shirone and the others unable to answer and grinding their teeth, Canis turned away satisfied.
"Anyway, work hard. If you join as juniors, we'll dote on you. Hahaha!"
Canis's shadow lengthened as he walked off toward Shirone. Harvist raised both arms and stuck up his middle fingers with both hands. The three riled students felt their shoulders tremble with anger.
Shirone broke the heavy silence.
"Today's break is off."
"Yeah. Call them senior? I'd quit school before I stood for that."
"Hmph, why quit? We'll get promoted and wipe that smug look right off their faces."
All three could think of was promotion. But how? The end-of-term evaluation was a different beast from breaking through one obstacle. It summed up half a year—starting something now didn't guarantee success.
"I've thought about this before…"
Shirone said, face serious, "I'd estimate my chances of promotion at around thirty percent. That assumes I study as hard as I can."
Not a mathematical analysis like Iruki's, but Shirone's insight carried weight, so his friends accepted it as realistic. Nade's expression darkened.
"To be honest, though I talked big, it won't be easy. If Shirone's at thirty percent, I guess I'm about fifty? Iruki's around sixty."
"No. I'd say 58.7 percent. Promotion focuses on end-of-term grades, but to be honest, I didn't attend a single class."
The three sighed. If things continued, come next semester they'd be bowing their heads to Canis and Arin.
"So, what if we tried this?"
At Shirone's suggestion, Nade's eyes lit up.
"What is it? Got a good idea?"
"If we keep studying the same way, our success rates are too low. We need to change strategy."
Iruki asked, "Change the method? But how?"
"The thirty percent I mentioned assumes studying properly. But if we tailor our effort solely to the exams, I think we can push it above fifty percent. That means for you guys it could be seventy, even eighty percent."
"Target the exams themselves? I see. Focus and prioritize?"
"Exactly. All we need is over eighty. No need to waste time on subjects we're already strong in. No need to study material that won't appear on the test. The sixteen subjects can be grouped into four streams: humanities, math, sciences, and practicals."
Shirone counted on his fingers as he explained.
"If we're lucky, each of us has at least one stream we can clear easily. And more importantly, our streams don't overlap. I'll cover humanities, Iruki'll take math, Nade'll do sciences. Practicals are something we can't really help with anyway."
Iruki nodded.
"So you're proposing a study group. Each person skips studying their own strength, and instead uses that time to cover each other's weaknesses?"
"Right. If we teach each other the tricks to score eighty on the exams, our chances go way up. I think we can push it to fifty percent with this plan."
Iruki's mouth twitched into a smile. Shirone looked that desperate about keeping pride in front of Canis and Arin—he cared more than he let on.
It was a solid idea. If all three could be promoted at once, it would be the best possible outcome.
"I'm in. Then let's head to the study club now and make a plan. Sound good?"
"Great!"
The three boys, burning with resolve, ran off toward Istas.
* * *
Shirone studied day and night.
He had to learn to manage time. For an unpracticed person, an hour flew by in an instant, but for someone who split an hour into ten-minute chunks, an hour could be substantial.
Shirone divided every remaining bit of time until the end-of-term exams into one-hour blocks. Keeping time constantly in his head prevented leaks. With that efficiency he could target the tests precisely.
He focused on mastering problem types rather than deep understanding—analyzing what examiners intended and the solving process. The study group proved effective. Covering each other's weaknesses raised Shirone's mock-test average above seventy.
Of course it wasn't all smooth. Studying revealed that some weaknesses weren't due to laziness but genuine lack of aptitude.
Especially between Iruki and the humanities the gap was huge. Iruki, who'd been breezing through Shirone's custom problem set, put his pen down and stretched after only thirty minutes.
"All done."
"Let me see."
Shirone went through Iruki's answers one by one. The more he checked, the more his hands trembled. He began to understand why humanities teachers grimaced at the sight of Iruki.
Shirone pointed at the paper in disbelief.
"Hey, how is 'You eat pasta, I'll eat pasta' even a sentence? I explained the use of auxiliary verbs."
"What's wrong with it? 'You eat pasta! I'll eat pasta!' Works fine. It emphasizes each as independent subjects."
"Uh, well…"
Shirone, who'd thought the construction plausible at first, was momentarily flustered. He snapped back and shouted.
"That's not it. Language isn't math. It's not a tool for proof but a tool of expression! You don't split sentences apart—you read the meaning between the lines!"
"Damn, what's that even mean? Math's best!"
"Shut up! I know you're stubborn! You have to admit it feels weird, right?"