"That's precisely why B Class beating A Class is simply—"
"Is that all you can say? I can hardly see how that reasoning carries more weight than the evidence laid out right here."
Ermes fixed the grade-level head, Lugendore, with a cold gaze. Even at this stage, the man continued to parrot the same tired argument.
The mask of friendliness Lugendore had worn at the start had long since shattered. All that remained was an expression dominated by chosen-elite mentality and rigid preconceptions, glaring at Ermes with undisguised loathing.
"In-in the first place, why is all this evidence conveniently arranged here?! It's as though they knew we would question them — the only reason someone would go to such desperate lengths to prove something is because they have something to hide!"
Oh — that time, at least the first half of the objection hit on a fair point.
But Ermes had been briefed by Yurugen on this too... or rather, so far these people had only pursued exactly the lines of questioning that Yurugen and Ermes had anticipated, making the responses almost too easy.
"Yes. His Grace the Duke of Traakia had anticipated that we would face utterly unreasonable questioning like this. He instructed us: 'Prove that there was nothing underhanded about any of it.'"
"That can't be! His Grace the Duke of Traakia has a child in A Class — there's no way he could look at these results without harboring doubt!"
"Is that so? You wouldn't happen to be fabricating the Duke's words, would you? Would you permit us to verify directly with His Grace once more?!"
"Um, you id— pardon me. Why would I say something so easily disproven? If you wish to verify, go right ahead. I have no right to stop you."
However, after a deliberate pause, Ermes added, pressing the point:
"In that case, it would be tantamount to telling him to his face that 'we doubt the judgment of His Grace the Duke of Traakia' — but if you're still fine with that, by all means."
The teachers all fell silent at once, catching their breath.
...He was starting to get a general sense of how these teachers operated.
People utterly entrenched in rank-above-all thinking. As such, they had no choice but to meekly obey the words of anyone who outranked them.
He truly had nothing but gratitude for Yurugen, who had allowed him to use his name here. Well, Yurugen had actually said it with a cheerful grin — "Go all out" — so this situation was probably exactly what he'd wanted.
Yurugen's wish to change this country. If that was the case, then all Ermes had to do was act in accordance with those expectations and his own will.
"That still doesn't mean...! You can't expect us to understand everything just from these documents!"
While Ermes was thinking that, another instructor seemed to have found the next flimsy excuse.
"What's recorded here is nothing but events from the contest! In other words, if you'd been preparing something before──before the contest even started, there'd be no way to tell!"
"Th-That's right! Come to think of it, weren't you lot doing suspicious things at the practice field every single day once the contest was decided! You must have been setting something up there!"
"Huh."
Since he'd expected that to be the next line of attack, Ermes deliberately gave a disinterested reply to get under their skin, then took his time examining the claim.
"I see. So you're suggesting that during those after-school training sessions I was doing something... Yes, for instance, using drugs or artifacts to unfairly boost the students' magic power or magical performance?"
"Yes!"
"Oh, over there. So you're saying──at the academy's training ground, the very place you lot would occasionally come observe and mercilessly mock──that I was doing something──"
Once again, Ermes paused there, completely shifting his tone and the temperature of his gaze.
"──
You all
couldn't
spot
a single
thing,
but
...
I must have
been doing
something.
"..."
It was a devastating piece of irony.
It didn't stop at training. The same thing happened during the actual competition—and besides, if Ermes had truly done something improper to the B-class students,
then it meant that the teachers, who should have been watching the students more closely than anyone else, had failed to notice a single thing.
In other words—he was thrusting upon them the fact that they were no different from loudly proclaiming, "Our eyes for watching over our students are riddled with holes."
If the teachers truly suspected Ermes, and if they genuinely aspired to be educators, they would have pressed on with the interrogation regardless.
But... he could say it with certainty—the adults standing before him were different. People caked in self-consciousness, people who had instinctively internalized self-justification at a fundamental level.
When weighing "exposing misconduct" against "concealing their own incompetence," they would tip toward the latter without even a moment's hesitation. He knew this—he had heard it firsthand.
This time, there was no misconduct to begin with, but even if there had been, the outcome wouldn't have changed.
No, before all that—during this competition, they had already laid bare their own lack of leadership. Regardless of the truth, many of the teachers present were those responsible for A-class. It wouldn't have been at all surprising if they had already received complaints from parents—from high-ranking nobles—blaming them for A-class's defeat.
In other words, whether they fabricated allegations of misconduct and were condemned for having no discerning eye, or failed to expose anything and were denounced for lacking leadership—
—either way, it would be hell for people who prized their honor above all else.
Made acutely aware of this, the teachers simultaneously sank into a heavy, oppressive silence.
The impact was profound. A few more questions trickled in afterward, but Ermes calmly and methodically dismantled each one in turn.
Eventually, as silence claimed a growing share of the room—at last, Legendre, the head teacher of their grade, spoke up from directly across.
"To begin with, what exactly are you? Favorite of the Tracia household or not, at the end of the day you're nothing but a commoner and a servant. I hear you were once called a Prodigy, but that's ancient history—you're nothing more than a second-rate magic user now."
"..."
"The proof is in the competition—you couldn't take down a single A-class student who uses Bloodline Magic. All you could do was be toyed with by the Tracia duke's daughter, completely powerless, and yet someone of your standing dares to speak so arrogantly? Have you ever once considered your place!?"
...At last, they had begun attacking Ermes directly.
This was tantamount to declaring that there was nothing left in his argument to attack—but did they even realize that? Probably not.
"This is a magic academy. Naturally, those with greater magical ability earn more rights. The very fact that someone like you is even permitted to speak here is an exception, you realize?"
"That is rather generous of you. But by that same logic... Clyde von Helmout, the marquis's son, cannot use Bloodline Magic in this academy. And yet you have no issue with him holding the influential position of A-class captain?"
"Ha! What nonsense—Clyde is an outstanding mage who has even earned the recognition of Prince Aster himself! He's not lacking in ability like you; he's merely concealing it! Can't you even grasp that much?"
Grade Head Legendre wore a grin brimming with self-satisfaction, as though he had claimed a demon's head—every trace of his initial composure completely gone.
"Those who are truly exceptional do not go flaunting their power at every turn—unlike you! The fact that you can't understand such a thing is precisely why you're no good."
"That's right! He's getting far too full of himself!"
"He should be ashamed, sitting here on nothing but dumb luck!"
The surrounding faculty piled on, making a ruckus.
...At first, they had at least maintained the pretense of interrogating a student. Now, even that pretense had vanished.
Most likely, they were trying to wound Ermes's pride in order to strip him of his composure. After all, that was the thing they feared most happening to themselves.
In that case, naturally—he had no obligation to play along with their scheme. Or rather, even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He simply couldn't understand the appeal.
"Yes, you're absolutely right—it's true that I can't wield much in the way of Bloodline Magic at present. I doubt I could so much as rival Lady Katya."
And so, without a hint of agitation, he calmly and matter-of-factly accepted his own inadequacy.
On top of that, he made it clear that this farce had gone on long enough.
"So—does any of that have bearing on the matter at hand? I am requesting that you present substantial evidence for the claim that the B-class committed fraud. What does 'I'm weak' have to do with any of it?"
He drove the reality home once more to the teachers, who had been enjoying themselves by bullying someone they assumed was powerless.
The teachers' fervor drained away in an instant. ...At this point, it was almost comical.
Naturally, they had nothing left to say. They had already tried to attack Ermes personally because they had run out of arguments.
Now that they understood such tactics didn't work on Ermes, they were truly at a loss for words.
The teachers held their silence for a moment, until Legendre finally murmured.
"...Hmph. It seems you have no intention of acknowledging what you did, no matter what."
So it seemed. He still had no intention of admitting anything — insisting that their questioning was the real injustice.
"Well, I didn't do anything, so... May I head back now? Lunch break is almost over."
"No. I won't allow that."
Legendre flatly refused. Ermes's face twisted — what right did he have to say no? — and Legendre, still looking as though he had something more up his sleeve, curled his lips.
"You've certainly come well-armed with your arguments, Ermes. Getting you to talk is going to be tough — but what about someone other than you, I wonder?"
"Excuse me?"
"Don't understand? I'm saying —
was
there
any
cheating
in Class B.
That's what
I'm asking."
Legendre spread his hands wide, as though revealing the answer, and continued.
"That was the real target all along. Don't worry — even if the Class B students are the bottom of the barrel, they know far better than to pull what you pulled. The teachers heading over to question them should be on their way right now. Your sinister little scheme will be exposed before long!"
So that was the plan. In other words, if they couldn't get anything out of Ermes, they would turn to interrogating the Class B students instead.
Legendre's scheme was probably along these lines: the Class B students have no love for a commoner like Ermes, and he figured they wouldn't exactly go out of their way to protect him.
(...No, seriously.)
These people are hopeless, aren't they.
That was what Ermes thought.
Indeed, compared to this lot of teachers, the Class B students still held some promise. His earlier decision to abandon them had been proven premature — from yet another angle.
And they were truly foolish.
They still──
believe this academy
hasn't
changed
at all.
That's
what they
think.
By the way, what if no word of cheating comes from those Class B students either?
Ha ha, that's impossible. Well, in the one-in-a-hundred-million chance it does, I suppose we could hold off on pursuing it for now.
Good, he'd gotten a verbal commitment.
All that remained was to leave it in their hands — and Ermes placed a trust in the Class B students that would have been unthinkable when he first arrived.
Having to remain in this space until then was a nuisance, but with expectations so high it didn't matter, he took his seat in the chair.
Next time, a Class B story.
The other one might reappear too. Look forward to it!