And so, the B Class intensive training continued under Ermes's leadership.
Every day after school, the whole group would go through basic magic ability training, followed by individual sessions led by Ermes in rotation.
It was nothing but relentless repetition of the same routine. With only two weeks to spare—there wasn't even time to try any special variety of training—so they staked everything on mastering one thing through sheer repetition.
Even on holidays, everyone came to school and spent the entire day training. Uncompromising, hellish intensive training continued without end.
Naturally, for students who had never made a proper effort before, this was nothing short of penance. Fatigue accumulated, and even during class, they visibly showed signs of exhaustion.
—And yet, not a single person dropped out.
There were several reasons.
First was sheer stubbornness. If no one else was going to quit, none of them wanted to be the first to fall.
Then there was hope. The desire to surpass A Class with their own power—not in a group, but in a one-on-one fight. The aspiration of a mage to improve, ignited by Ermes and burning bright within them—something they had been on the verge of losing.
But what surpassed even that was—
"...Impressive."
The feeling of tangible results.
It was hell, but for those who overcame it, a definite increase in strength awaited—this was the reward they could feel for themselves.
The greatest proof of that was—right now, Ermes, who had collapsed to the ground before a certain student, was rising to his feet and offering words of praise.
Yes. This was four days after training began.
One of the students had, for the first time, managed to defeat Ermes.
The student who had achieved this great feat, however, seemed more confused than joyful, looking down at Ermes.
"...What's wrong? I'd appreciate it if you showed a bit more happiness—it makes the teaching more rewarding for me too."
"Wh-what do you mean... did I—I really won? Don't tell me you were going easy on me to let me have this! If so, then—!"
"...Well, you see."
It seemed he'd developed such a losing habit at this academy that he genuinely couldn't believe his own victory. While that attitude of rejecting hollow wins wasn't bad, this time it was different. Ermes pressed a hand to his forehead and explained carefully.
"Whether I was going easy or not—well, I was. As I explained before, during this training I intentionally adjust my magic to match 'the magical properties close to the opponent you'll be fighting.' In other words, I'm fighting with a style removed from my original self. If you want to call that going easy, then so be it."
"Th-then—"
"But—"
To lead with his conclusion, Ermes cut the student off.
"Within those restrictions, I was fighting at full power. You have now definitively surpassed that."
"...And more importantly. Even with these restrictions, I was an opponent you absolutely could not have beaten when training first started. The fact that you've overcome me is unmistakable proof of your growth."
"!"
Only after hearing those words did joy finally begin to fill the student's face.
"Of course, my magic falls far short of other Bloodline Magic in terms of raw performance. In that sense, this version of me is nothing more than a degraded copy of the opponent you'll actually face. ...But if you keep growing at this pace, a chance of victory will surely come."
"...Honestly, I'm surprised. I thought it would take a week. Please, keep this up."
"Y-yes!"
Responding to that unadorned yet heartfelt praise, the student nodded—and with more enthusiasm than ever, returned to regular training.
From that point on, the students' motivation skyrocketed.
Victory, after all, was the ultimate reward. The realization that they could achieve it through their own effort—that very sense of tangible results worked in a positive direction. After that, more and more students began defeating Ermes one after another.
Naturally, Ermes had anticipated this—or rather, he had been fighting at a strength level where it was possible, so it would have been a problem if it hadn't happened. But as he'd mentioned earlier, the speed at which they reached that level exceeded expectations. In a sense, it was a welcome miscalculation.
However, once that happened, a gap emerged between "students who could beat Ermes" and "students who couldn't."
He had worried that the latter group's motivation might become a problem, but—that was taken care of by the training program's other key contributor.
"Wh-what's the matter?"
"Oh... Sara. I'm sorry, my body is fine... but. ...I still can't see a future where I beat him...! Maybe I haven't grown at all—"
"...You're going to be okay."
The male student, his expression tense and head hung low—anxious about the widening gap with his peers—was met with Sara's gentle smile.
"I've been watching you work hard, you know. And you've definitely gotten stronger. It's clear to anyone watching from the outside."
"R-really?"
"Yes. I think all you need now is just a small push. Ermes is strict, but he never sets impossible goals. So why not push just a little bit more? ...It's a small thing, but I'll give you a little charm for good luck."
With that, she activated her Bloodline Magic. Her words and soft blue light gently dissolved his fatigue and anxiety.
...Words of encouragement like that—perhaps only Sara could deliver them, not Ermes, because she had watched over the class all along.
In fact, the male student regained his composure—and not only that, threw himself back into training with remarkable enthusiasm.
By the end of the day, he too had claimed his first victory against Ermes.
And so, the training continued.
Ermes led, Sara supported. Thanks to this dual support, no one dropped out afterward either.
The grueling days of intensive training passed in the blink of an eye—delivering exhaustion but also the solid growth that came with it.
—And then, at last, the night before the main event. Everyone had completed the training.
*(...Phew.)*
The night before the school festival, at the Trackia household.
Having finished his duties as a servant, Ermes took a moment to catch his breath before heading to his room for the night.
Today's training had been cut short early. He had urged everyone to prioritize getting into peak condition for the remaining half day.
...In the end, every last one of them had grown enough to defeat Ermes with near certainty when he was in his virtual-opponent state.
The actual opponents would be even stronger. But with the strength and confidence they had gained through all this training, they should be more than capable of putting up a fight.
So now all that remained was for him to maximize his own win rate and eliminate as many uncertain variables as possible—he was thinking this as he walked down the corridor when—
"...Ermes."
A voice called out to him from ahead.
Looking up, he saw her—his mistress—approaching him.
"Lady Katia, what's the matter?"
"...It's nothing major. I was just wondering if we could talk for a bit."
Since the B Class training had begun, his opportunities to talk with her had decreased considerably compared to before.
Part of it was simply that training kept him busy. But above all, the real reason was probably that she was in A Class—the very opponent they would face head-on tomorrow.
Seemingly aware of this, she had been deliberately avoiding that topic until now... but perhaps since it was the eve of the actual event after all, she opened her mouth—albeit with some hesitation—and asked:
"...So, how does it look? Think you can win?"
What she was referring to, he knew without needing to ask.
"...I'd say it's about fifty-fifty."
B Class had certainly grown stronger.
Their fundamental magic abilities had improved dramatically, and in terms of tactics, they had become capable of accurately targeting their opponents' weaknesses.
—And yet, the gap in Bloodline Magic remained enormous.
Taking that into account along with the cards B Class held, his assessment settled at about even. That was his conclusion.
But hearing this, she showed a faint look of surprise.
"...So you've gotten it to that point. Impressive."
After offering that praise, she fixed him with a serious expression.
"Then there's even less reason for me to hold back. —In the actual match, I'm going all out too. I don't care if you're restricted in power or if you have connections with B Class. For my own pride, and for B Class's sake, I won't be taking it easy."
"Yes. I appreciate that."
With a slight softening of his expression, he answered her unwavering declaration.
Katia seemed satisfied with having said her piece, but then appeared as though she wanted to add something more...
"—If you understand, that's all I need to hear. ...Well then, good night. Sorry for stopping you."
"? Yes, good night to you as well."
In the end, all that came out was a farewell.
Tilting his head slightly, he returned the courtesy, and they both walked toward their respective rooms.
They passed each other, and after she had gone some distance—why was it that—
The sound of her footsteps, which should have been growing more distant, suddenly quickened toward him—
"...There."
A soft sensation pressed against his back, and a slender arm wrapped around his waist.
—In short, he had been embraced from behind.
"Uh, Lady Katia—"
"...Shh, Ermes."
He instinctively tried to turn around, but she tightened her grip as if to say *don't look.*
"I know this is an important time for you and B Class. I told myself I couldn't get in the way, and I've been patient. ...But—"
With her face pressed against his back, her voice was muffled—yet he could still make out a tone that was somewhere between embarrassed and sulky as she spoke:
"—After the school festival is over, you're going to make it up to me. You'd better be ready."
"Y-yes."
Overwhelmed by her unmistakable resolve, he nodded without a word of protest.
Having confirmed that, she released him, said only "that's all," and—just as she had come—ran off behind him at a quick pace.
"..."
He had thought about turning around, but somehow that felt like it would be worse.
Keeping his gaze fixed forward, he placed his own hand over the spot on his chest where hers had rested moments ago.
—Then, letting out a soft breath and a gentle smile, he walked back to his room with steps that felt lighter than when he'd come.
And then, at last.
The school festival opened its curtain.
Katia gave it her all for the first time in a while! Next time—the real thing at last!