[111] End-of-Term Report Card (3)
"Of course it's strange. But that's only a matter of perception. Mathematically, it's a perfectly valid sentence."
Iruki's pride in his mathematics was enormous. The humanities teachers must have hated him enough to mark his paper a zero.
Shirone decided to use his last resort.
"You're not going to advance?"
"Ugh! Damn it!"
Even Iruki had to bow to that. He'd rather die than become Kanis's junior.
When Iruki went back to solving problems, Shirone sighed and returned to his seat.
'If he actually does that on the real exam, that would be awful.'
Nade suddenly looked up from his book, as if he'd remembered something, and asked, "Oh—there's a practical next week. Have you guys practiced much?"
Shirone and Iruki both replied at the same time. "What exam?"
"Seriously? You didn't even know? It's the Mental Pulse Test. The Spirit Zone endurance evaluation."
"Do we really need to practice? Either of us can easily score over eighty. Are you worried?"
"No, but practicals have a lot of variables. Unlike the other tests, this one's relative ranking. If others do better, our standing drops. I thought we should at least run through it once."
"It's fine, it's fine. We don't have time anyway."
Iruki didn't even hear the rest and focused on his problem solving. How much Spirit Zone control would be required at Class Five level? Iruki was sure the practical would be an automatic pass.
"I'll skip it too. I don't have the bandwidth to deal with that," Shirone said as he worked through a math problem.
Nade had some confidence, but he also knew it would be hard to outscore the other two.
'Hmm. What should I do?'
If it really looked difficult, he could ask for help. But stealing his friends' time just because he felt uneasy would be abusing the rules.
'Whatever. As long as I end up in the top ten, I'm fine.'
Nade put the thought away and started studying. If each of them didn't pull their 33.3 percent, the study group's efficiency would collapse.
They cooperated for the common good, but the results wouldn't be handed to them by anyone else.
* * *
Image Zone practice hall.
This should have been time for a combined advanced-class lesson, but the only students present were Class Five.
It was the notorious practical assessment period that had put Shirone in tight spots more than once. With the term nearly over, the students' tension was higher than ever.
As always, when Ethella entered the Image Zone she expanded a twenty-meter-diameter Spirit Zone and began her explanation.
"Today's evaluation is the Mental Pulse Test. It measures how long you can sustain changes in a Spirit Zone."
Ethella spread both hands and pointed to a distant object. A pitch-black rod of indeterminate material rose high, its surface carved with strange characters.
"The evaluation standard is the diameter—the distance from one end of the rod to the other—twenty meters. You cannot take the exam if your Spirit Zone is smaller than that. Of course, none of you should fail to reach twenty meters."
Ethella contracted her Spirit Zone. When the measured volume on the display dropped below two cubic meters, a buzzer sounded.
"When the buzzer sounds, that counts as one cycle. Measurement time is thirty seconds, and scores are based on the number of pulses the Spirit Zone produces. We don't usually practice with the counter on, so I'll demonstrate first."
At Ethella's signal, the Image Zone's mental-pulse mode activated. Her Spirit Zone began to expand and contract like a beating heart.
"Whoa..."
The sight of a twenty-meter Spirit Zone shrinking to under two meters and then springing back open was spectacular. The cycle wasn't exceptionally fast, but the repeated contractions and expansions were so intense they felt like explosions.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The Image Zone's sound machine calculated the expansion speed and produced explosive sounds.
It wasn't just for show. Perceiving an immaterial Image Zone with the five senses made magic training far more effective.
After thirty seconds the display showed thirty points. That meant one pulse per second.
According to the seniors, the promotion cut-off required at least ninety points. One needed three pulses per second. The students used Ethella's demonstration as the final check for the strategies they'd prepared.
Ethella finished the demonstration, hands clasped behind her back.
"In real situations you often have to change Zone forms at high speed. The Mental Pulse is the basic training for that, so even after the practical it's important to keep practicing. We'll begin the evaluation now."
Based on the Speed Gun test results last time, students began coming up from the back ranks. As expected, improving that much in a month or two was difficult, so most rankings looked similar.
One by one the students recorded their scores; the lowest so far was forty-eight. It was Nade's turn. Having ranked mid-high on the Speed Gun test, he had to go before Shirone and Iruki.
"Do your best, Nade."
"Phew, I'm nervous."
With Shirone and Iruki cheering, Nade entered the Image Zone, closed his eyes, and focused. At the start signal he opened them and inflated his Spirit Zone. It pulsed rapidly, like a heart racing at full sprint.
"Whoa! What's this? Nade?"
The students' eyes widened. Only ten seconds had passed, and he'd already broken fifty points. Five pulses per second hit those watching as tremendous force.
"Wasn't he mid-rank before? At this rate he'll definitely be near the top."
"He's been hanging out with Shirone—he must've improved a lot. If we'd known, we'd have joined their study group."
"Right? Those two have been scaring people with how much they study. Even Iruki, who used to slack off, hasn't missed class."
After thirty seconds Nade's score was displayed: 173. His last ten seconds of acceleration had boosted the total.
"Good work, Nade."
Ethella smiled as she recorded his score. Seeing her student improve so much pleased her.
'Well, I did expect about this much from the start.'
Nade returned with a bashful grin, sticking his tongue out. After high-fiving his friends he sat down. "Man, I thought I was going to die from nerves."
"Nice. One down. Just the two of us left."
Ethella's demonstration seemed to have motivated subsequent participants to give their all, but no one beat 173.
While Nade held first place, Iruki—second-to-last—entered the Image Zone. Standing calm, he activated his servant ability as soon as it began.
Preprogramming the expansion and contraction mechanisms and repeating them like a machine might not help in real combat, but for an exam it was supremely efficient.
He scored 210.
The students stared at the number in disbelief. Only a mechanical repetition of seven pulses per second without speed variation could produce such a figure.
"Amazing. Even his mind's an equation? That bastard probably didn't even do it properly."
"You can't blame him. It's a servant ability. I don't think Shirone's going to beat this one."
At that moment, a voice cooled the overheated atmosphere.
"Hmph. Don't make a fuss over such trivial scores. Is Class Five a gathering of pitiable fools?"
The students turned and went pale, staring wide-eyed as if they'd seen ghosts. Kanis and Arin—scheduled to enroll next semester—were watching the practical.
Ethella, who'd been recording the scores, asked, "Oh? You two—what brings you here?"
"The headmaster said we could observe. We came to see how the exam's conducted."
"I see. Come over here. This spot has a good view."
Kanis's brows knitted. Was that woman really a match for the master? In battle she'd been flustered, but watching her teach, she seemed hopelessly naive.
'Is she doing that on purpose? Or is she really an idiot?'
Either way, she was clearly interested. Kanis stood behind the participants with Arin.
"How does it look, Arin? From your perspective?"
"We trained to exhaustion on cardiac-pulse exercises. Our master insisted we raise it without fail. I could easily score over 250."
Arin was a mental-type mage. She'd mastered tentacle-type Zones—the hardest Zone shape—so her Spirit Zone endurance was second to none.
'As expected of Arcane's disciples. They're on another level.'
The students shrank back at Arin's words. Though many of them also came from noble families, anyone aiming to be a mage dreamed of studying under an archmage's direct disciple. Regardless of background, these two had followed an elite path.
'Hmph. But we've got a trump card, too.'
When Shirone—the last contestant—entered the Image Zone, the students cheered in unison.
They knew he'd regained his memories and defeated Kanis. They wanted him to show off again.
Shirone took a deep breath in the center of the Image Zone. With Iruki's 210 as a benchmark, even a modest showing would be enough for promotion.
But Shirone's eyes were different. Now that he had a clear goal, he wasn't going to take the exam halfheartedly just because Kanis wasn't watching.
At Ethella's signal the devices lit up, and Shirone began pulsing his Spirit Zone at maximum from the first beat.
Without Iruki's precise preprogramming, evenly dividing a second is difficult. But humans have rhythm—an extremely precise internal clock.
Shirone put the Zone's pulses on that rhythm and accelerated. From the sound machine came a rapid, drum-like staccato.
Puh-puh-puh-puh-puh-puh-bang!
The students were speechless. Their eyes didn't blink as they watched Shirone, but they could only catch a proper look at the Spirit Zone about once per second.
"No way… How many per second is that?"
Several concentric Spirit Zones moved at once, making it impossible to count by eye. The students waited for the ten-second mark. Shortly after, the display showed an astonishing 120 points.
"Twelve pulses per second…"
Can you imagine a twenty-meter sphere contracting twelve times in a single second? All they could see were bursts and the numbers spinning up; no one knew what happened inside. The clustered explosions and the rapidly climbing count were the only proof that Shirone's mind was pounding.
Even Kanis and Arin were dumbfounded, staring as if entranced. Arin in particular looked incredulous. At that rate, the mind itself should collapse before speed even became the issue.
The essence of the pulse is how fast you can extend from the smallest ring to the largest, and how much shock you can withstand on contraction.
In that sense, Shirone's demonstration maximized both speed and durability—an absolute peak.
'Diamond-hard and unbreakable.'
Ethella grasped Shirone's level at a glance.
'Amazing. I can't gauge this child's potential at all.'
Even Ethella could no longer be sure where Shirone stood. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he'd already reached somewhere else.