Thus, several days had passed since Ermes decided to remain at the academy.
Compared to the turbulent first two days, peaceful stretches of days had followed without incident.
The way Class B treated Ermes had shifted—the very Albert who had led the others in looking down on him had fallen strangely silent since that day.
As a result, the other classmates didn't know how to handle the situation. While Ermes remained something of an outcast, the overt contempt had faded.
For several days, there were no joint magic exercises with Class A either. In a sense, a quiet, stable routine had taken hold.
—But this was an academy. And as long as Ermes existed, things were never going to stay that simple.
On the first day of the new week.
Ermes was walking down a corridor, following behind Sara on some errand.
Her face, walking ahead, was painted in nothing but tension.
He trailed after her, thinking that was only natural, and came to stand before a certain door.
He took a single deep breath—and pushed it open.
"—Hey there, Class B delegates."
What greeted him was an unnecessarily cheerful voice.
With a pleasant smile on his face, as though nothing had ever happened before.
But the look he directed at Sara carried obsession, and the look he directed at Ermes carried loathing.
This male student—Clyde von Helmuth, with Katia trailing behind him—spread his arms wide, dominating the room.
"Then let's begin. The class representatives' meeting in preparation for the upcoming academy festival!"
That was how this had come about.
This magic academy was holding its academy festival next month. Being a showcase for the children of the nobility, it was a major event attended by a relatively large number of high-ranking individuals.
By convention, each grade put on a single performance together.
Therefore, to finalize the details, a meeting of four people—both class leaders and the academy festival representatives—was convened.
Incidentally, the reason Ermes—a transfer student of barely one week—was present at such a meeting was simple: nobody else wanted the role.
And understandably so. ...Just think about it. Becoming the academy festival representative meant participating in this meeting, which in turn meant having your voice heard—
—that was absolutely not how it worked. At least, not in Class B.
After all, at this academy, where both Class A and Class B jointly performed as a single grade—
Class B's opinions would never be accepted.
In practice, throughout history, such performances had essentially been Class A's proposals taken wholesale, with Class B unilaterally being saddled with the grunt work. That had become something of an established custom.
No one would willingly participate in such a meeting, only to have A Class's mockery hurled directly at them.
And so the role fell to Ermes—or rather, was forced upon him.
"...Well, but, you know."
True to form, Clyde directed his gaze—overtly dripping with derision—at Ermes, who was present for the reasons described above.
"Do you really trust his judgment when it comes to picking B Class representatives? Putting forward someone as uncertain and unproven as this transfer student? Who knows what might happen—poor Sara, having to be dragged along with him."
"..."
"Lady Sara, don't worry. Don't let his selfish opinions sway you. Let's have a productive discussion, just the two of us."
Clyde's expression was warm and smiling—only toward Sara. Had this man perhaps forgotten what Sara had said to him during lunch a few days ago?
"...There will be four of us. I trust both Ermes and Lady Katia."
Sara's reply was modest but firm. Clyde's expression turned sour, and he opened his mouth to say something further—
"—Clyde, get on with it. Meeting time isn't infinite, you know."
Katia interjected, having lost patience. Clyde responded with an ill-humored sigh.
If only he would do the same.
"...Fine, fine. Let's begin. Then—here's my proposal."
In a move that was almost surprisingly composed, he quickly recovered his composure, officially opened the meeting as declared, and immediately laid out his proposal.
As though there were no doubt it would be accepted. No—in all likelihood, there genuinely wasn't.
"I've always felt that Class A and Class B should interact more with each other. Only through humility, mutual consideration, and respect can a good relationship be built."
"..."
True to form, he began from a subtly off-target angle. But pointing that out now would only cause trouble, so Ermes let it slide.
"And since this is a magic academy, the performance should naturally revolve around magic. So I've devised a plan—one that would showcase the fruits of our training to those attending the festival, while also facilitating closer exchange between Class A and Class B. Namely—!"
Finally arriving at his actual proposal, Clyde announced its contents with supreme confidence.
"—A Class versus Class B group magic battle. What do you think?"
"..."
So that's how it is, Ermes thought.
It was an unwelcome proposal, but he could more or less guess the reasoning that had led Clyde to it.
Clyde had likely been losing trust within his own class since the joint magic exercise the other day.
This proposal was damage control—making his classmates feel good to regain their trust. In short, it was flattery.
On a grand stage before a crowd of nobles, unleashing one's magic to the fullest and crushing the mages of Class B—yes, for the A Class students, this would be the ultimate thrill, the perfect venue to satisfy their need for self-validation.
And besides, Ermes glanced at Clyde.
The expression on his face showed confidence, clear hostility toward Ermes—and pleasure.
—the unspoken truth was plain to see: in a group battle, Clyde could cooperate with his classmates to crush Ermes.
"...Why a group battle? Wouldn't a series of one-on-one matches work just as well?"
"That would lack spectacle. This is a performance, after all—it has to be entertaining for the audience."
"But why make it class-versus-class? Wouldn't a mixed team combining the best of both work equally well?"
"That wouldn't deepen the bonds between the classes at all! Each class pooling their strength internally, then clashing openly across class lines—that's what I call genuine exchange!"
It seemed Clyde had anticipated questions of this level, rattling off pre-prepared answers with practiced ease.
"Seriously, attendant, why would you even suggest a mixed team? ...Could it be that you think Class B would definitely lose in a straight fight? How tragic—can't even have faith in your own classmates' abilities!"
What an absurd thing to say, coming from the person least likely to doubt a Class B defeat.
...But.
"Ermes."
At that moment, Katia—who had been standing quietly in the background—called out to Ermes.
Clyde, suspecting something unfavorable, started to speak up—
"Lady Katia! I have the final say here—please don't cause a disturb—"
"Be quiet. Ermes—are you
aware?"
One word silenced him, and she cut straight to the point.
Ermes grasped her meaning precisely and nodded.
Yes, I'm fully aware.
—This is an opportunity.
Clyde's proposal was, admittedly, well-crafted. It would restore his standing in Class A while also settling his personal grudge against Ermes—a perfect two-for-one.
But all of that rested on one premise.
That Class A
wins,
without fail.
Which meant this was a chance.
A golden opportunity to shatter the entrenched stereotypes at this academy—and to confirm whether his decision not to write off this academy had been correct.
Through the joint magic exercises and other experiences, he had analyzed the magic and skill levels of those around him.
And based on everything he knew, he had arrived at this prediction.
If his Class B—unlike Albert before—could change its mindset.
If they could regain a sincere attitude toward learning magic.
—Then A Class's victory was not an absolute certainty. Depending on their efforts, the outcome could be overturned.
That was why he first turned to Sara beside him for confirmation.
She, who knew Ermes well, had likely reached the same conclusion. If you believe you can do it, her nod said.
"...Understood. Let's go with your proposal."
With resolve and anticipation in his heart, Ermes gave Clyde his answer.
And so it was settled—the academy festival performance: a magic battle between Class A and Class B.