[621] Scout Reporting (2)
-Once we get back to the school...
On the day Shirone finished training in Curbing Explosive Rage, Miro explained the plan.
"You have to refuse the evaluation."
"Refuse the evaluation?"
"It's too late to make up the difference with the graduating class's scores. All you'll do is give the scouts a bad impression. If that's the case, abandon the evaluation and place your bets on the graduation exam instead."
Shirone agreed with the diagnosis.
"But graduation shouldn't be the only objective."
Miro put emphasis on her words.
"Even if you graduate, there aren't many associations willing to take on a time bomb whose fuse they can't see. If you want to become a mage, you have to prove you're worth the risk they'd be taking."
Miro's strategy was simple.
"Think of the graduation exam as a long-distance race. You need to sprint from the starting line at maximum speed. Then..."
Miro pointed to the finish.
"You keep that speed and cross the line."
-Entering Survival Endurance Phase Level 5.
Just as a faint weariness began to show on the participants' faces, a Tier 6 creature was summoned.
"This is when the dropouts start."
As befits creatures even professional summoners use in the field, the faces of those who checked the lineup drained of color.
Grrr!
Monsters capable of ending a human in one strike appeared: a werewolf far cleverer than Ulk, a Cerberus the size of an ox with three heads, a shaggy bugbear weighing three hundred kilograms, a gargoyle with skin as hard as stone.
'This will certainly separate them.'
Cooperate and advance, or hang back until the dropouts appear.
While most participants wrestled with that dilemma, Shirone unsurprisingly surged to the front.
His tactic—ripping the formation with Scatter Movement and picking them off one by one with Photon Cannon—was simple, but its power exceeded imagination.
Beams stabbed into the bugbears' bulging bellies and sent their legs flying; gargoyles diving from above couldn't pierce the walls of frenzied light and were thrown back.
"Movement, attack, and defense are in balance. He's an Unlocker, but he's been properly trained."
"That only makes it more puzzling."
Baikal stroked his chin.
"He didn't study the Survival Endurance event lightly, surely? He still can't possibly finish the whole course."
For the Survival Endurance event that selects fifteen people, the Association sets an effectively impossible difficulty—if even one person could complete it, the evaluation standard itself would collapse.
"Yes. From Tier 5 onward, the lineup is made up of creatures pros summon as mainstays."
They were facing hundreds of those creatures.
Lara objected.
"A straight comparison is dangerous. The 2,000-run is a simulation. Even if reactions are designed with each species' intelligence in mind, there are limits. Especially creatures handled by a mage—they move according to the mage's intellect."
"Of course they differ from real creatures."
Baikal conceded that point.
"But the stats reflect reality. Even Tier 6 here is lethal for students. Rapidly eliminating participants is a rational decision for the second evaluation as well. What's his angle?"
Elizabeth analyzed Shirone's combat.
"Magic power: 2.03 million Magicle. Photon Cannon single-shot power average: 2,847 Crash. Rate of fire: 267 rounds per minute."
"He's insane."
The words slipped out of Baikal's mouth.
"He already far exceeds the Association's master difficulty. Note that impact and rate-of-fire were listed separately. Right now Shirone is accomplishing both simultaneously."
Meaning he was landing blows he'd thought could only be concentrated with maximum focus more than four times per second.
'He's exceeded the Association's expectations, then.'
As Baikal paused to think, Lara prodded.
"Examiner, your overall assessment...?"
"F."
Elizabeth's posture demanded an explanation.
"The other twenty-nine participants are already off my radar. He doesn't have proper situational awareness."
"But Shirone's stats are clearly—"
"I know. I'm disappointed in Strategy No. 27. With these numbers he could trade blows with Tier 6, maybe even Tier 7. But that's the limit."
Baikal shook his head and continued.
"Scouts memorize creature stats down to the last detail. Even a Tier 3 would render that show useless. If the fifteen are selected before he finishes, his current output is nothing but bravado. F."
"...Understood."
Lara's pen wrote an F on Shirone's page.
'I know.'
Had Shirone heard Baikal's explanation, he would have nodded.
'I know, I tell you.'
This wasn't a strategy built on a clear probability of success.
He knew the only remaining possibility was to sprint from the start and keep going until the end.
"I will never stop!"
Shirone's Photon Cannon rained like a comb and snapped a Cerberus's spine.
"This is getting out of hand."
Pringes, robbed of the spotlight, cast Glacial Fragment and razor ice spikes split the coliseum.
Eima took the opening and sniped enemies from all directions.
'Eighty-seven. Eighty-eight.'
Elizabeth watched.
"Rate of fire in this mode: sixty-seven rounds per minute. Given sniper mode, that's astonishing."
"Accuracy seems a bit off. How many shots missed?"
Logged into the 2,000-run core system, Elizabeth pulled up the exact figure.
"Current accuracy is... 89.4 percent."
High by the graduating class's standard, but Baikal wasn't satisfied.
'Scarlet eyes!'
Amy, who had backed up her self-perception memory, began firing with greater precision and the bugbears started to burn away.
"Rising. 90.2 percent. 91.6 percent."
"That's the sort of accuracy you'd expect from Carmis. For now, B."
Having delivered her cold assessment, Baikal's gaze moved to the next contestant.
'Atomic Bomb!'
Iruki's detachable Spirit Zone flew out and detonated across the monsters' faces.
"It looks instantaneous."
Puff! Puff! Puff!
It was like an invisible smith cracking monster skulls.
"In reality it's a complex detonation equation. And precise. For Servant No. 5, objects are perceived as fractal structures. It's mathematical, so there's no error."
Baikal watched Iruki's movement carefully.
"Neural response speed: 0.024 seconds. That places him among the top participants."
"Hmm."
Lara scribbled "hmm" in her notes and the pen came to an abrupt stop.
"Isn't he a little... lacking in intuition? Accuracy doesn't equal efficiency. His responses are too mechanical."
"He seems to focus on blocking variables rather than improving efficiency. Even so, his annihilation speed is above average."
"For now, B."
Lara wrote it down, but Elizabeth pursed her lips.
"Aren't you being too strict? Even with high participant levels, that's no glaring weakness."
"A lack of weakness doesn't automatically translate into a strength. If it were Plura, she'd judge differently."
Comparing someone to the royal magic school's top graduate was setting a high bar.
"This is a mess."
"Wooooaah!"
Screamer, using Scatter Movement, drove an iron fist into a bugbear.
"A fool so drunk on his own strength his thinking is paralyzed."
"Maya! Don't fall behind me!"
Kayden spun around Maya and slashed at a Cerberus.
"A fool who forgets his mission and clings to conviction."
Shirone's Photon Cannon arced across a werewolf's back.
"Ditching tactics and going all-out with firepower."
Even Elizabeth fell silent.
"So this happens too. Stat-wise he's far superior to other schools, but his mental state is off. What does he think the exam is? He's doing whatever he wants."
The kingdom wanted mages who, no matter how perverse their personalities, acted like mages when on a mission.
"Under Red Line regulations, a graduate's home association has first negotiation rights."
If first negotiations broke down over pay or conditions, other countries could begin scouting.
"The standard matters to them, not to us. Our job is to find the most capable and report to the Association."
"...Understood."
They had no choice but to accept Baikal's stance.
"Still, some are useful."
Fermi's varied magics added firepower where needed, and Dante used instant magic circles to pick off enemies with ease.
Pringes' ice magic was truly exquisite.
"Number 1. Number 2. Number 22. Grade A."
As grades were assigned for every action, the Level 5 annihilation time was drawing to a close.
'One minute left.'
With the number of monsters still well over two hundred, Shirone's heart tightened.
'Fifty-eight seconds. Fifty-seven seconds.'
At this pace, Tier 6 creatures would be summoned into the coliseum with barely thirty seconds for recovery.
'I have to finish this!'
Those thirty seconds meant everything to Shirone, who had pushed his firepower from the start.
Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!
Scattered Photon Cannons slammed the monsters from all directions.
Bugbears with broken shoulders, Cerberus heads blown off, gargoyle skin cracking—every enemy surged toward Shirone.
"Arrrgh!"
Shirone clenched his aching mind and hammered the Photon Cannon, but the attackers kept coming.
"...Was that a mistake?"
Elizabeth asked.
"He's been firing at that power for almost ten minutes. His mind would inevitably falter."
Even those who weren't scouts could see Shirone's accuracy slipping.
"Isn't that dangerous?"
At Reina's remark, Olina began to cry again.
"You're so oblivious. If you don't know, just watch."
Reina, scolded by Rian, patted Olina's shoulder and protested.
"Even I can see she's noticeably tired."
Rian bit his lip and looked to the coliseum.
'Shirone...'
Only someone who'd lived it could truly know how many individuals a count of a hundred represented.
"It's okay. He'll be fine."
"Really?"
Now Reina leaned on her brother's judgment.
"If he dies, he dies..."
Rian's voice was firm.
"He's not the type to lose his head just because he's tired."
"Now!"
Drawing in a huge number of monsters, Shirone gritted his teeth and focused.
"Elysion!"
Raising his concentration at the end of ten minutes consumed far more mental power than usual, but if he could finish the annihilation it would be worth it.
'Thirty seconds. If I have thirty seconds I can recover!'
With that thought, he cast his wide-area destruction magic, Multi-Rampage.
Kwah! Kwah! Kwah! Kwah! Kwah! Boom!
"Good heavens..."
Seven overlapping ten-meter Rampages detonated, leaving the audience breathless; monsters caught in the mass waves had limbs snapped and were flung between spheres of light.
'Nine seconds! Eight seconds!'
With seven seconds left, the creatures ensnared by the Multi-Rampage decomposed into tiny pixels and vanished.
"That's it! I told you!"
Rian threw his arms up and shouted; Olina wiggled her shoulders.
"Magic power: 2.93 million Magicle! Heart rate: 237 beats per minute!"
"What? Two hundred thirty-seven?"
"Four-point impact average: 6,800 Crash! Five-point impact: 13,000 Crash!"
The VIP box erupted in pandemonium; everyone turned to look and an embarrassed Rian quietly lowered his hand.