Chapter 110: Ending in Grand Style
At the edge of the Whispering Forest, in the clearing temporarily designated as the endpoint of the assessnt, the atmosphere was sowhat peculiar.
The crowd that had originally been gathered there in scattered groups to watch the excitent—mostly lower-year students who did not have to take part in the assessnt, a few third-year students who had been eliminated early, and several instructors responsible for maintaining order and ergency rescue—had all fallen quiet at the sa ti.
Their eyes turned in unison toward a single direction.
There, two stern-faced instructors were walking out from the depths of the forest one before the other, escorting a student between them.
He was a tall boy. His dium-length brown hair showed different shades where the sunlight filtered through the forest gaps, with a few strands falling carelessly across his forehead.
There was little expression on his face. His gray-blue eyes were like the surface of a frozen lake, calmly sweeping over what lay ahead.
His clothes could not exactly be called neat. His dark academy uniform jacket was speckled with mud, loose threads dangled from the cuffs where sothing had snagged them, and a withered leaf still clung to the hem.
But that was all.
There was no blood, no ssy bandaging, no staggering that required soone to support him. He simply walked on his own, his steps even, his back straight, almost leisurely.
Aside from a trace of dust, that sharply defined face was clean, its cold, striking handsoness plainly visible.
Following behind the two solemn senior instructors, he stepped naturally into the clearing filled with countless eyes, as though he had rely finished an ordinary walk after class.
It was Ryan Velt.
The infamous—or rather, illustrious—young master of House Velt from the Lower Division of Saint Roland Magic Academy.
His na dropped into the crowd like a pebble into still water. After a brief, dead silence, the ripples burst outward all at once.
“Look, it’s Velt!”
“He… he walked out by himself?”
“Wasn’t he supposed to be carried out injured?”
“What nonsense! Does he look injured to you? His clothes are a little torn, but he’s perfectly fine!”
“My God… doesn’t that an he passed ahead of ti? And this is only the third day at noon!”
“More than just passing… did you see those two instructors? They’re senior instructors in charge of the final evaluation! If they personally escorted soone out, then there’s only one possibility…”
“He gathered them all?! All twelve runes? The legendary hidden condition?!”
“B-But… but he really did co out…”
Gasps collided with disbelief, and sharp intakes of breath rose one after another.
Many of the lower-year students had only heard the na Velt as a byword for trouble. This was the first ti they had ever matched the na to a real person, and they could not help stretching up on their toes and craning their necks, wanting to see clearly what was hidden beneath that face which, though said to always look gloomy, currently showed little disturbance.
So of the older students, especially those third-year students who had already fallen short and still bore traces of bandaging, looked even more complicated. Their shock was mixed with unwillingness—and with a faint thread of… awe.
Yes, awe.
If this had happened a few months ago, if Ryan Velt had completed the assessnt ahead of ti in this manner, most people’s reaction would probably have been that he must have used so despicable trick again, or that he had simply gotten lucky, followed by scorn and indifference.
But things were different now.
That shocking public hearing during the Frost Crystal Explosion Incident had swept through the academy like a storm, completely washing away many people’s fixed impression of the label called Ryan Velt.
That boy, who had stood before everyone and thodically broken apart the accusations of the Garcia and Wood families with airtight logic before pinning them down under the charge of treason, had created a fatal split between himself and the image of the gloomy noble brat who only bullied the weak in the old rumors.
People still thought he was dangerous. His gaze was still cold, and his bearing was still distant. But what they felt was no longer only disdain and fear. There was now also a vague complexity, one they themselves might not have been able to clearly explain—a subconscious acknowledgnt of his strength and intelligence.
Especially when that strength was displayed so directly and so overwhelmingly before their eyes, the gasps and praises could no longer be held back.
“S-So amazing…”
“He really did it…”
Ryan seed not to hear the noise around him at all. His gray-blue eyes remained calm and still as he quietly followed behind the two instructors.
Only he himself knew that beneath the outer coat, his body still carried a trace of fatigue after fierce battle, and that the wrist with which he had held a sword in actual combat for the first ti still retained a slight soreness from exertion. But all of that was well hidden beneath that expressionless mask.
He was led to a temporary inspection point set up at one side of the clearing. Several academy physicians in white robes and instructors responsible for logistics were already waiting there, with several simple detection Magic Tools emitting faint light placed beside them.
“Student Ryan Velt, please cooperate with the basic inspection,” said a kind-faced middle-aged female physician. Her tone was gentle, but not one that allowed refusal. “This is the required procedure, to ensure that every student who completes the assessnt is in stable physical condition and has no hidden problems left behind.”
Ryan nodded and obediently extended his arm, stepping into the designated position.
For the next several minutes, he felt like a puppet being handled.
Cool fingers settled against his wrist pulse, and a gentle white glow lit up in the physician’s palm, traveling along his arm and bringing with it a faint tingling sensation.
Another instructor held a lens-like Magic Tool and scanned him from head to toe, strings of flowing data sliding across the surface of the lens.
Others recorded his breathing and pupil response, and one even lightly pressed the edge of the damaged parts of his coat to inspect the skin beneath.
“Mana circuit stable. Slightly depleted, but within the normal recovery range.”
“No open external wounds. Several minor bruises and abrasions, already beginning to heal.”
“ntal fluctuations steady. No obvious signs of trauma or overexertion of the mind.”
“No abnormal magical residue, toxins, or curse reactions detected within the body.”
“Nutritional condition good. No weakness caused by dehydration or hunger…”
One result after another was called out, while the instructor responsible for recording moved their pen rapidly across the page. The physicians exchanged glances, and each of them saw the sa surprise on the others’ faces.
This condition… was a little too good.
Three days in the Whispering Forest. Various battles, searching, possible encounters with competing students, and an early completion of the highest-difficulty objective—yet he erged with only this tiny, almost negligible amount of exhaustion and surface injury?
That level of physical condition and control was simply astonishing.
The middle-aged female physician withdrew her hand, the smile on her face becoming noticeably more genuine.
“Excellent, Student Velt. Your physical condition is completely up to standard—one could even say exceptional. Congratulations on successfully completing the assessnt.”
“Thank you.”
Ryan withdrew his arm and responded briefly but politely. He adjusted his sowhat disordered collar, then instinctively lifted his gaze past the physicians who were packing away their instrunts and swept it toward the dark mass of people gathered at the outer edge of the clearing.
His gaze quickly fixed on one particular spot.
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