༺ Last Class Standing (1) ༻

Thanks to the hawk faction’s dramatic exit, I was able to enjoy a peaceful life at the academy. It’s quite funny when I think about it. What were they thinking, plotting to assassinate royalty? Although I’ve had my fair share of sending royals on a one-way trip to the afterlife, that was done in a justifiable context.

It was an event that would go down in the history of the continent. If there was a Darwin Award in this world, then they would be the clear winners. Maybe this continent could even start its own awards for such foolish acts. Just thinking about the name made me wince.

‘The same bird…’

My gaze fell on Marghetta, who was busily handling documents. While the Valenti ducal house also used a hawk as their crest, they couldn’t be more different. If the Iron-blooded Duke heard about the hawk faction’s outrageous party, he’d be furious, probably telling them to change their name to something more fitting, like ‘chicken.’

Or perhaps the Valenti family absorbed all the intelligence meant for the hawk faction. That would explain Valenti’s sin.

“Carl?”

Marghetta, who had been looking down, slightly raised her head after noticing my intense gaze.

“You must have a lot on your plate today.”

I couldn’t exactly ask, ‘What do you think about having a birdbrain in the neighboring country?’ That would be like declaring war on a house that used a hawk as its crest. I didn’t want to pick a fight with Marghetta for such a bizarre reason.

“It’s the inter-class competition season, after all. It’s going to be like this for a while.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“But having Carl around gives me strength.”

“That’s good to hear.”

As if on cue, we both burst into laughter at the same time. It felt like I was talking to an answering bot.

And speaking of which, being preoccupied with the late Hawk faction made the time fly. It seemed like there were about two weeks left, but the inter-class competition was already right around the corner.

The inter-class competition was grand in name, but it was essentially the academy’s version of a sports festival. Unlike a normal sports festival, this one involved swords and magic flying all around.

It was a chaotic battleground where all classes, regardless of year, competed. But unlike fairs or exams, the inter-class competition often took place in a more relaxed manner.

“It’s all just a rigged game, anyway.”

There were third-year students in every club, and exams pitted students of the same year against each other. But in the inter-class competition, first-years had to compete against second and third-years.

For the nobles who were sensitive to hierarchy, defeating a senior could be a daunting task. After all, they had to smile and address them as alumni or seniors once they graduated. So, they wouldn’t want to create sour relationships unnecessarily.

Therefore, it was customary for a class with third-year students, especially those of high status, to win the inter-class competition.

“This year’s going to be a headache.”

Fufu, the student council is also worried.”

Rules were one thing, but customs could be broken. This was especially true when a student of transcendent status enrolled.

When a royal enrolled, third-year students would practically beg for the first-years to take the victory trophy. A noble defeating a royal? That’d be treason.

And this year was a miracle year where a prince, two other royals, and a future saint enrolled. They were also spread across multiple classes, and not just one.

“Which class do you think should win?”

“That’s a tough question.”

I shook my head in agreement with Marghetta’s question.

Should it be Ainter’s class, in consideration of the empire’s dignity, or should we favor the guests’ classes, like Rutis’s, Lather’s, or Tannian’s? And if we were favoring the guests, which one should we choose?

“This is terrible.”

Who made such a mess of the class assignments?

Of course, it would be too pitiful for a teacher to handle a class with all four of them in it.

“It would be safe for Prince Ainter’s class to win. Or maybe we should let the four compete purely among themselves.”

“That seems right.”

Marghetta agreed with my suggestion. If there was no better way, then they might as well just fight it out amongst themselves to decide the winner.

Those guys may act recklessly without considering their status, but at least they’ve never demanded special treatment because of it.

In fact, they might even relish the academy’s sanctioned time of madness and fight fiercely. If things look like they might get out of hand, I could step in or call on the combined forces of the three countries, who were on standby. That should be interesting to see.

“Having Carl around definitely puts my mind at ease.”

I almost reached out to Marghetta, who was smiling brightly, but I pulled my hand back.

‘I’ve picked up a strange habit.’

Since I got used to patting Louise on the head or giving her a reassuring shoulder pat, I almost made the mistake of doing the same to Marghetta.

Patting someone on the head without asking them could be considered as condescending, although it was fine if it was Louise.

However, Marghetta noticed my hesitation, and her gaze shifted to my hand.

“Carl. Please go ahead with what you were about to do.”

She asked precisely and confidently.

“It was nothing—”

“Do it.”

“…Yes.”

There was no avoiding that request.

As I cautiously patted Marghetta’s head, she closed her eyes quietly with a content smile on her face. Well, that was good enough if she liked it.

“Please don’t hesitate next time.”

“Yes, I understand.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her cute request.

However, I had to be mindful of Marghetta’s dignity. I should probably keep my distance if others are around.

***

I had a lot of work to do, just like how the student council had a lot on their plates. Organizing the inter-class competition schedule was the council’s job, but supervising the members who would be running around according to that schedule was my duty.

Well, Villar honestly had more work than me, but I still had my share.

“I’m sure they won’t have any problems with it, given their experience during the practical exams.”

“Your confidence is reassuring, Sir Villar.”

I nodded vigorously at Sir Villar’s confident assurance.

Certainly, things this time around were looking better compared to the first-semester practical exams. I was just sighing and clutching my neck back then, but now they had prior experience.

Moreover, unlike the practical exams where one had to spar with someone, it was possible to just watch the inter-class competition and not participate in any match.

“They’ll probably participate in the key matches.”

“That seems likely. Those who like to set an example will want to.”

Of course, that’s what I’d say if I were being overly optimistic. The idea of them just watching and not participating in such an event? Highly unlikely.

Even if they’ve been like leisurely fishermen since getting rejected by Louise, their true nature hasn’t changed. They grudgingly enrolled in a foreign educational institution and joined a club because of a girl.

Now that Louise’s control had weakened, there was even a higher chance that they’d go off the rails.

‘…Is everything really going to be okay?’

I suddenly felt uneasy. I was already nervous even when they were under control. And now they’re without anyone to hold them back?

“The newly selected escort forces from each country specialize in escort and healing. Many of them are skilled in training, so there’s no need to worry.”

Villar seemed to read my thoughts and continued.

“That’s a relief.”

Knowing that there were training experts was definitely reassuring. One of their roles, after all, was to intervene in sparring to prevent injuries.

Yes, I should trust them. Last time went well, so this time should, too. I believe in the capabilities of the academy and the three countries. We were like brothers in arms, who were risking our necks together.

Though we were born on different days, we could all go down together in just a single crisis.

“Still, the best outcome would be to have no incidents at all.”

Sir Villar subtly hinted.

‘So he feels the same way.’

I thought as much. No matter how well-prepared and confident one was, they always preferred situations that wouldn’t risk their necks.

The best outcome would be if nothing happened and if none of the members participated in any of the games. That was the obvious choice.

“I agree. Keeping things quiet is best. As an advisor, I’d prefer not to see the members exhausted.”

= Should I ask them on your behalf?

“You truly have become an excellent advisor.”

= I’d appreciate that.

As a subordinate, it would be awkward to ask the royal family which games they planned to participate in.

So, what choice did I have? I’d have to do it myself.

***

Even if it was something I expected, reality still hurt when it happened.

“Ah, of course I plan to participate.”

“I see.”

Seeing Rutis declare this so confidently was disheartening.

He even said ‘Of course’. Were mine and Villar’s hopes so easily crushed?

“Where else would I get another chance to face a Yuben mage?”

I almost said that an Armein mage or a Yuben mage was a mage all the same, but I held my tongue.

“This will be a new experience.”

“Haha! I’m looking forward to it!”

Even Lather, who was quiet, got excited by Rutis’s words.

As usual, it was the fiery idiot causing all the trouble. No, even the blue-haired idiot was being problematic this time.

“This year’s inter-class competition will be intense.”

Ainter said it lightly while laughing, as if it was none of his business. Given that Ainter strictly followed an academic path, that was probably to be expected.

Tannian wasn’t particularly aggressive, while Erich didn’t show off his skills much. There was also no need to even mention Louise.

‘These hot-headed swordsmen and magicians.’

It was just an ego battle between swords and magic.

I don’t get it. In the end, getting hit meant death, so why fight over such things?

“So, only Rutis and Lather are participating?”

“Ah, me too.”

“Of course you are.”

Having Erich participate was no issue.

Thankfully, Erich was among those students who could afford to get injured whether he competed or not.

When I glanced at Tannian, he lightly shook his head.

“I am a candidate for sainthood, after all.”

That was enough of an explanation. Saints didn’t involve themselves in human conflicts, and that meant that he planned to just observe.

But treating a mere sports festival as a conflict seemed excessive.

‘What does it matter?’

If they chose to opt out on their own, then that was fine by me.

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