The interview proceeded as smoothly as anticipated.
Where are you from? Do you have any specialties? Are you hesitant to slice someone? – I was a bit weary of these questions after being asked such in the first two rounds. Have you decided on your future career? You know, all those sorts of things.
To be honest, the impression left by the “Heir of the Red and Blue Blood” I met before the interview was so intense that I think I answered half-heartedly.
‘I’ve had a rough idea since I learned the results of the preliminary exam…’
If there were someone capable of attaining stats good enough to enter a special route without my assistance, it was most likely either the “Heir of the Red and Blue Blood,” with the highest base capabilities, or, as a backup, the “Proud Barbarian,” whose physical prowess was overwhelming. And my expectations turned out to be correct.
Among the six templates of the Planetarium, if the “Nameless Demon” had the highest degree of freedom, then the “Heir of the Red and Blue Blood” existed in perfect symmetry to that.
High specs and powerful combat abilities may be similar; however, unlike the Nameless Demon, who could act freely according to their wishes, the Heir had to carefully consider the reactions of those around them and the power dynamics, making their movements laden with constraints.
This contrasting aspect also became apparent when actually selecting and nurturing the protagonist.
While the “Nameless Demon” showed great potential for physical growth and was strong in one-on-one encounters, the “Heir of the Red and Blue Blood,” when developed in magic, displayed powerful abilities and characteristics that allowed for greater contributions in multiple battles.
‘It’s not like they can’t do the opposite at all either.’
As the two templates were favorites among users, builds focusing on magic for the “Nameless Demon” or physical stats for the “Heir of the Red and Blue Blood” were not mainstream but existed in rarity and were considered to have strong performances, albeit not in the traditional sense.
If raising their original specialty is considered tier one, then their performance when raised in an unconventional manner might be considered around tier two.
In contrast, while “Proud Barbarian” or “Scheming Saint” could crash into tier four with a moment’s misguided training, this was not the case with the aforementioned.
Additionally, the “Greedy Debauchee,” even when raised according to traditional methods, would only rank tier three in combat. To put it kindly, they would top out at 2.5 tier since they were not intended to be templates that took the frontlines themselves, but rather designed to support others.
‘I really want to pull them into our ranks, but what approach should I take?’
As I pondered this, time flowed on, and soon the day of the entrance ceremony arrived.
It was evident that the Barhart Empire was pouring immense interest into this endeavor, as indicated by the dedicated train for the entrance exam and the copious amount of magical tools being distributed.
Massive funds were allocated for the relevant projects; rather than reusing existing buildings, entirely new accommodations and educational facilities were erected from scratch. Countless assistants bore the brunt of various tasks to ensure smooth academy operations, and no one questioned it as a waste.
Daring to disrupt an event orchestrated by the heroic figure who had positioned the empire upon solid foundations—namely the reigning emperor’s father—was something no one had the gall to do, especially since the empire possessed the richest resources and talents available, continually glowing with economic and technological growth.
And what was the academy established against that backdrop like, you might ask?
“…No matter how you slice it, isn’t this a bit excessive?”
I shook my head, gripping the paper I received that unfolded what was purported to be a map of the school.
With fewer than 200 current students, even considering the incoming freshmen, how could a school not expect to surpass a thousand have its own mountains, lakes, and dedicated shopping districts?
The areas equipped with accommodations and essential educational facilities for students were somewhat smaller due to restricted access for outsiders, but it was still an enormous scale.
Just the auditorium for the entrance ceremony, my word! It was so extravagantly built that I could barely bring myself to enter while students stood around, mouths agape, slack-jawed in awe.
“Looks like they’re quite generous with the spending.”
“At that rate, you’d struggle to find a shrine that could compete!”
I opened my mouth in response to Ligret and Fiore, who were throwing out their two cents.
“Come on, let’s head in. There’s no need to be late for the entrance ceremony.”
“I have a feeling you’ll be getting quite the spotlight soon enough.”
“Definitely not the reserved, top student type, are you, dear brother?”
“Are you in any position to be saying that?”
Grumbling through the trivial conversation, we stepped into the auditorium, and other students slowly began to gather their wits and follow behind.
Inside the auditorium, not only students but a diverse array of spectators were present, sitting in the audience seats installed on either side, gazing at the hundred or so students positioned in the center as if assessing them.
Among them were stern-looking soldiers, bureaucrats who practically reeked of ink, greedy merchants, as well as heads of illustrious families and noblewomen filling the space.
Each one of them was a prominent person from various fields, and it was a clear indication of how much interest this academy had drawn from not just the empire but the entire continent.
“All of you—! Silence, please!”
In an instant, the noisy auditorium was filled with utter stillness.
“The esteemed Emperor of the Barhart Empire is entering!”
Amidst the gaze of nearly a thousand attendees, an elderly man made his entrance.
With long, flowing white hair and beard, his once-radiant skin was marked with fine wrinkles.
Yet his posture was straight, his hands and feet perhaps weathered but without a hint of tremor. His dignified stride left no impression of a man over sixty; rather, it was full of vitality.
‘Great Emperor’ Ludwig Barhart.
He was one of the significant figures hailed from the “Planetarium” and proceeded to speak quietly.
“First, I want to express my gratitude to the students who have overcome the grueling exams to be here. Truly, truly well done.”
At the words from the aging emperor, a few students displayed expressions of shock.
Even if it was merely a light compliment, for many, he was a hero they’d revered since childhood, and to the public, he was seen as a celestial star reincarnated in human form-so his words certainly carried weight.
Though the non-imperial students didn’t react dramatically, perhaps overwhelmed by the imposing aura of the man before them, they reflexively swallowed hard.
“I’m aware that not all of you are gathered here for the empire or for me. Some among you surely aspire to rise in status, while others crave power, wealth, fame, or pleasure. Perhaps there are even those who harbor resentment towards me.”
At this striking statement, not only the students but also the audience seemed to collectively hold their breath for a moment. The emperor’s gaze briefly brushed over a woman with flaming red hair, her eyes burning with intensity.
“However, I do not see that as a negative. Such desires are, after all, one of humanity’s most powerful motivators to reach greater heights.”
The emperor continued, “From today onward, you shall spend your days becoming a single blade of a sword. This academy is an anvil, and the trials you’ll face will be the hammer. It will not be an easy journey. There may be those who cannot withstand the harsh hammering and shatter along the way. I make no denial of that.”
Fear flitted into the eyes of some younger students. The emperor’s calm demeanor carried an unembellished, striking truth.
“Everyone claims that this is a time of peace. They praise this era as one devoid of the agony and bloodshed of war. Yet, threats capable of shattering all of that are now looming over this continent.”
The man who had risen to the throne during times of chaos and shaped the current world continued speaking.
“The Ivistan Empire. And behind them hover the demon tribes. They are the external forces that could destroy this tranquility at any moment, and they are the very foes you must confront.”
The warm yet piercing gaze of the emperor swept over the assembly.
“Become a single blade. Above all, be a sword that is beautiful, dazzling, and strong, and cut down your foes. In doing so, you will obtain what you desire, and by doing so, you will safeguard what you acquire. You shall become heroes, and many will be captivated by your existence, harboring feelings of admiration towards you. Indeed, it shall be I who creates that reality!”
Neither the students nor the spectators could dare to make a sound, as the emperor’s aura was overwhelmingly authoritative, exuding a charisma that did not invite rebuttal.
“I have great expectations for you all.”
With that final statement, the emperor stepped down from the podium.
While everyone remained in a daze, I let out a hollow laugh at the cold sweat trickling down my palm. Just how naive was I to think that an old man, a supposed hero, wouldn’t be all that impressive?
I realized painfully that the Ludwig I had seen beyond the game screen of the “Planetarium” was an entirely different being from the man standing before me.
What a fiery entrance ceremony it had been!
