"Haaa..." I let out a long sigh and wiped the sweat from my forehead, my daggers still firm in my hands.
While walking along the examiner's designated path, I stumbled into a monster called Bloodhorn. A massive, furred beast that lumbered on all fours, its four crimson horns glistening—a color not just from evolution meant to intimidate, but also stained by the blood of its victims.
It had been a brutal fight. I'd been forced to bait it into charging past me, ducking beneath its bulk, and carving into its underside with my daggers.
"Crowbell… you're crazy," I muttered, walking away from the corpse.
The battle had cost me hours of focus and resources. By now, the sun had drifted past its peak, though I still had time before the sky turned orange with sunset.
As I walked through the southeastern part of the island, my thoughts drifted toward Kaida and how she might be handling this test.
In the game, if you failed to capture Horace Netherwind, he would appear as an examiner on her island—one of two possible bosses. But since Kaida's group and I had already dealt with him perfectly during his event, he wouldn't appear this time.
So why am I even worrying? The only thing I should expect from her is that she performs well enough to finally move from E class to D.
Wait, no. I do worry. She needs to be in decent shape for the drug dealers later this week. Unlike me, she probably won't charge in tomorrow right after I leave a letter in her room with their location.
Anyway.
That Bloodhorn fight had forced me to burn through spells I'd intended to save. I'd need to reserve a few more before my classmates inevitably came for my badge.
"Me? An examiner?" I whispered once i finally reserved my spells. It still baffled me that Crowbell and Goldenlaw would allow me, the weakest student, to serve as one.
I sighed. Everyone seemed to have the wrong idea about me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
"Oh?" I stopped. Someone was sitting on the ground ahead.
She had chest-length white hair, now caked with dirt, and her once-elegant frilly clothes were torn and muddied. When she turned, our eyes met.
"Eep!"
Eep?
If I remembered right, this was Cremia Dolche—recently promoted to S class after winning her duel.
In the game, she'd been a standard swordsman. Solid enough at the time of recruitment, but she fell off quickly: average stats, poor magic, and defenses so paper-thin they didn't justify her middling attack power. Still, her low weapon mastery could be trained up if you fought the second optional superboss.
She looked injured. Without hesitation, I approached.
"Dolche, what happened? Did you trip and hurt yourself?" I crouched to meet her gaze.
She tensed as my hands hovered near her, mumbling something I couldn't catch.
"What?"
"I… I'm sorry," she said, eyes flicking away.
"Huh? Sorry for wha—"
A massive boulder slammed into my side, cutting me off and hurling me across the ground.
I tumbled, skidding until I hit dirt. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself up, senses spinning from the impact.
"Good job distracting him, Dolche," a new voice called. Another girl stepped into view.
"Isn't this… too much of a scummy tactic?" Cremia asked hesitantly, standing shakily.
The newcomer was Sylla Darema, rank fifteen in S class—a tanned elf with blonde hair.
In the game, she'd been a decent mage, above-average mana reserves and three affinities that synergized well.
"You can complain to the boss," Sylla said with a smile, pointing skyward.
I followed her finger—
"So gullible," a cold voice said before she spun and attacked me using the momentum.
I raised my daggers just in time. Enough for my blades to meet something that attacked me, not from above, but in front of me—
A bird leg?
"[Wind Ram]!"
I unleashed the spell. A surge of wind blasted the girl backward, hurling her away. She spun midair and landed gracefully beside the other two.
"Boss, he hit you with his spell!" Sylla rushed to her side.
"This is nothing. I expected to take some hits," the girl said flatly, her tone devoid of emotion.
She rose to her full height, wings unfurling. With light-blue hair, pale feathers, and the sharp speed of a predator, Griffa Irea—rank eight in the S class—stared me down.
"As expected from him. He's someone we definitely needed to team up against," Sylla said, eyes burning with determination.
Griffa Irea, a bird demi-human. In the game, she had belonged to the warrior class, though she shared a unique gimmick with Zagressa Beritan: the ability to fight barehanded—or in Griffa's case, bare-legged—without needing a weapon to be equiped. It had made her one of the better characters to recruit.
"That was a low blow," I muttered, steadying myself.
"Our only objective is to steal the badge, Mr. Alen," Griffa replied coolly. "Does the method really matter?"
"I suppose not. In fact, as an examiner, I'd say tactics like that are smarter than a reckless charge. I'll be sure to reward you with extra points if I can."
Even if this was my first time acting as an examiner, I wanted to do the job properly.
"Oh! I knew it," Sylla said, clapping her hands. "Despite the rumors amd tour looks, you're way easier to talk to than people say!"
My looks? So I am ugly.
"Uhmm… can we finish this fight quickly…" Cremia mumbled, shrinking back. "I'd rather not interact with him too much…"
"That's rude!" I snapped, and she yelped, hiding behind Griffa.
"That's right—you're new to S class, aren't you, Dolche?" Sylla chuckled. "Don't worry. Alen's much friendlier than the rumors make him out to be."
"N-not exactly for him… Sorry if I offended you, Mr. Alen," Cremia bowed hastily.
"Don't worry," I said flatly.
Truth was, I did care about the rumors. They gnawed at me more than I liked to admit.
"Then why don't you want to interact with him?" Sylla tilted her head.
"He's Princess Von Themys' friend… and I don't want to get involved with her. She's scary."
"That's fair. No one approaches him because of that," Sylla agreed. "Didn't he also defend that sinner girl? Ugh." She shivered. "That Thican gives me bad vibes."
"I know I said I didn't care what you thought of me," I cut in, "but I'd appreciate it if you left my friends out of it."
"Oh, sorry! We didn't mean it like that," Sylla said quickly, hands raised in apology.
"I'm sorry too—even if I do believe it!" Cremia blurted, bowing three times so quickly I couldn't even make out her last words.
"That's not how you apologize!" the elven girl snapped, giving her friend a quick tap on the back of the head. It was more of a corrective hit than anything else.
"Sorry!!" the white-haired girl yelped, rubbing the sore spot.
"You're all a handful," the bird demi-human muttered at her noisy partners. Her sharp gaze locked onto me. "Dolche—on the offensive, now!" she ordered, springing forward as the first to strike.
"Y-yesh!" Cremia squeaked, hurrying after her.
I raised my guard, bracing for whatever tactics they threw at me.
Griffa reached me first, her speed amplified by flight. Her kick carried enough force to shatter bones—I couldn't afford to let it land.
But I had no intention of standing still.
Sliding into the stance of the wind, I summoned a swirling current at the exact point her kick aimed for.
"!!!" Her eyes widened as the vortex deflected her strike.
If I could block a tier-three spell by focusing on a single point, then stopping her attack was well within my reach.
The disruption left her open—my perfect chance to counterattack.
But the moment I lashed out, my dagger was intercepted.
"!!!"
Cremia's sword caught my blade, her shaky parry just strong enough to force me back.
With my attack broken, all three of us retreated to reset.
"Wh-what was that!?" Cremia stammered nervously.
"I don't know," Griffa muttered, circling me just above the ground. "Darema!"
"[Humidity]!"
The elf cast a tier-one water spell. Dampness seeped into my clothes, leaving me clammy and uncomfortable, as if drenched in sweat during a summer's heatwave. Worse still, in the dead of winter, the chill bit hard.
"What a useless spell," Griffa grumbled, pressing her attack against my defenses.
"You don't understand anything, Boss! No man can resist this spell!" the elf crowed, laughing loudly.
Griffa and I shared a bewildered look.
"Eep! Irea… your clothes…" Cremia squeaked, pointing in horror.
Following her gaze, both Griffa and I looked down—
The water spell had soaked us all, turning our outfits partially see-through.
"Black…?" The word slipped from my lips before I could stop myself.
When I looked back up, Griffa's expression was as blank as ever, but the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed her.
"I will make no comment about it," I said quickly, raising a hand and shutting my eyes.
"Hmph." With a sharp hum, she launched another kick.
I managed to dodge, flipping backward out of range.
"He's not embarrassed!" the elf exclaimed, shocked that the fight carried on as though nothing had happened.
"Was that really your plan!?" Cremia shouted at her, face flushed as she hugged herself in embarrassment.
"Idiots…" Griffa muttered under her breath as we clashed again, blows and counters flying in relentless rhythm.