The Obsessive Regressor of The Academy

21. Entrance Exam (7)

Day five of the examination.

Acel and the other two, having established a position near the golem spawning zone identified through detection magic, repeated the process of eliminating golems as soon as they were created. The interval between the creation of golems wasn’t particularly long, but thanks to the three taking turns, none of them felt particularly fatigued.

“Oh, here comes another,” Elena said, still seated on a rock. It was Acel’s turn, and he immediately stopped what he was doing, channeling magic towards the golem.

[Infernal Bloom]

Unseen heat radiated outward. In an instant, the golem’s form began to melt, and before its core turned to ash, he extracted the mana stone, snatching it away. A slight scorch mark remained, but the mana within was unaffected. Acel tossed the core into a roughly dug pit, resuming his previous task.

The task wasn’t much to speak of. It was a deconstruction process, taking apart the core to understand how such a vast golem could be powered by a single, small bead. Requiring not only magical aptitude but also delicate handiwork, Acel focused all his concentration on tapping and splitting the core.

“Knife.”

“Here!”

Extending his hand, Elena passed him a dagger forged from blood. Acel took the dagger, carefully scraping away at the edge of the core. Watching the scene, Elen leaned against a tree and chuckled dryly.

“…Do you really think you can figure it out like that?”

“I’ve already figured out about half of it.”

Acel replied, manipulating the knife to avoid damaging the mana contained within the core.

“Roughly speaking, this is a core created by a 7th Circle mage. They’ve incorporated magitech to improve mana efficiency, and linked the formulas to an external source. To put it simply, this core is merely a power source to move the golem; the formulas and calculations necessary to actually form the golem are dependent on some external device.”

“…”

“If we destroy the external device, all the golems here will cease functioning and collapse instantly. The power might still be there, but the formulas that maintain their bodies will be shattered. It’s the only weakness of these infinitely multiplying golems.”

Acel examined the separated core with an intrigued gaze.

“The reason golems are continuously generated here is because a one-time activation teleportation formula is etched into the core. Activating the formula through the device teleports it to these coordinates and initiates the construction formulas. It utilizes earth and sand to create the skeletal structure of the body, altering its properties to give it a rocky skin. Fascinating.”

“…Acel, you’re being really creepy right now.”

Elena wore a slightly disgusted expression. Acel casually ignored her comment, securing the separated core inside his coat.

“If I ever get the chance, I’d like to meet the architect who created this golem. Probably a mage specializing in magitech. I wonder how vast their knowledge must be.”

“…From my perspective, you’re the one who’s more amazing for figuring all that out.”

Elen muttered, then confirmed the emergence of a newly created golem, and lifted her axe. Despite the two-bladed axe being much larger than her own height, she wielded the axe, rotating it as if handling a fluff, making a sweeping gesture.

Following the trajectory, the golem’s waist was severed. The golem, divided into an upper and lower half upon birth, flailed its hands in apparent confusion, but even those were cleanly chopped off. Elen cleaved the golem’s remaining upper half with only the head in two, extracting the core. Before long, the golem scattered into sand.

“Is that 100 now?”

Ellen nestled the core into the pit she’d dug, muttering to herself.

It had already been two days since they’d settled here. She’d spent every waking moment hunting golems during that time, so it was only natural that cores were overflowing, practically rotting. Enough to share, with a smile, if other participants came seeking to pilfer.

‘This test will be a breeze.’

Ellen watched as Elena, her turn come, had her blood drawn, lost in thought.

The Academy entrance exam was infamous for its brutal difficulty. Even this year, the trial was hardly a walk in the park. The golems might be fragile, but their destructive power rivaled that of a seasoned Expert.

A moment’s carelessness, and your entire body could be pulverized. Facing them head-on was manageable, but the golems that attempted surprise attacks were infuriatingly troublesome. Some even launched stone arrows from afar.

Like perfect copies of superhumans on a real battlefield, they were objectively not easy opponents. The proctors hadn’t even specified how many cores were needed, making the situation even more daunting.

But if they could be crushed the moment they were born, that changed everything.

Before their programmed intelligence fully took root, the golems didn’t react to incoming attacks. They only started responding after something was severed or broken. Even then, it was just a frantic struggle. Golems that acted like that were, frankly, easy to deal with.

And this was the result: a mountain of cores. Considering Asel said the activation condition for the device was fifty cores, they only needed to collect fifty more for everyone to pass the entrance exam.

Not long now.

Ellen exhaled slowly, slinging her axe over her shoulder. Elana, returning with her share of cores, was reflected in her eyes.

“One hundred and one now!”

Truly, they were almost there.

*

Injuries during the Academy entrance exam were commonplace. The exam’s format changed every year, but the presence of combat never did. Casualties, minor or severe, were an unavoidable reality.

Some criticized the exam’s structure as fundamentally flawed.

And they weren’t wrong. What other academy throws its applicants into a death game right from the entrance exam, only to rescue them at the brink of death?

Every academy besides Luminous Academy conducted entrance exams with solely written and safe practical tests, regardless of the program, combat-oriented or otherwise. This difference caused the safety concerns for the combat-oriented entrance exam of Luminous Academy to surface every year.

But the Dean never wavered in the face of public opinion.

-The reason we are considered the best academy is that special entrance exam. It weeds out the weak in the first stage. I want people who can genuinely excel in war, not just any Tom, Dick, or Harry.

The Dean declared that at every monthly ‘Is the Academy Okay?’ meeting. Some agreed with her, others were horrified, but either way, her words held truth. Those who passed the entrance exam had, at the very least, some fighting experience.

Furthermore, those who dared attempt the Luminous Academy entrance exam were mostly those prideful in their abilities. Having been hailed as geniuses at least once, they quickly assessed the exam’s nature and strove to pass it while avoiding injury as much as possible.

Thanks to that, although injuries occurred, they weren’t too frequent. Maybe around ten, tops. Any more than that meant the exam’s difficulty was set abnormally. This would warrant the supervisor taking responsibility and normalizing the exam’s difficulty.

And, that stage had arrived today.

“Son of a b*tch.”

The exam’s chief proctor, Ross, cursed, peering inside the patient tent.

“Ugh…”

“Gaaah! Lightning keeps sparking from my arm! Save me!”

“…That Grace, that damned b*tch. Who is Asel? Why did she attack when she said she didn’t know!”

“The leg, the leg…!”

Inside the tent, chaos reigned. The few beds they’d managed to bring were long since filled, and they were now scrambling to procure more from outside. And this was just for the seriously wounded. Add in the participants who’d forfeited the exam midway, and you had close to dozens crammed into this space.

It was a clear, unadulterated blunder in setting the exam’s difficulty. Ross clawed at his hair, emerging from the tent.

“We’re fucked.”

Only curses spilled from his lips.

In truth, the fault wasn’t entirely his. Accidentally setting the core for the golem creation device to that of a slightly higher-level entity? No problem. He could mitigate the issue by reducing the number of cores needed to pass.

Allowing participants to plunder each other? Also, no problem. Permitting plunder in a trial where one seeks something was a tradition passed down through the Academy for generations. Ross was simply following suit.

So, what was the real issue, then?

“…A message from the on-site supervisors. The True Ancestor, the Hargelin Young Lady, and the Disciple of Genesis have taken up residence in the golem creation zone, and are currently slaughtering the golems.”

Those b*stards were the problem.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

When did the first mass casualties occur? The moment Asel conjured lightning, drawing participants together. Those who gathered, suspecting a special event prepared by the Academy, clashed with each other, resulting in a surge of injuries.

Then, there were the golems.

The more their numbers dwindled, the more aggressive they became. With these three slaughtering golems for days, it was only natural that the danger posed by the remaining creatures had skyrocketed.

A mistake that could have been mitigated with improvisation had ballooned into an inescapable crisis thanks to them. As a result, the wounded, victims of the golems, overflowed.

But alright. He could understand this much. It was the supervisors who had erred in confusing the golem cores, and they hadn’t explained that the golems grew more violent as their numbers decreased.

“But goddamn it! Why is the Bydiel Young Lady running around yelling ‘Asel, Asel’ instead of catching the golems she’s supposed to be catching, and hunting down participants instead!”

“P-please, there’s no need to shout at me…”

“Agh, shit!”

For Ross, a former mercenary, swearing was like breathing. He’d restrained himself while working as an Academy supervisor, but now that he had to take responsibility for this mess, his old habits resurfaced. He chewed on his lip, racking his brain for a way to salvage the situation.

Just then, the door to the supervisors’ outdoor meeting area, set up just outside the forest, burst open. Ross, about to lash out at the uninvited guest, recognized the intruder and broke into a cold sweat.

“…Professor Fernand.”

Fernand Clark. Professor of the Academy’s Combat Department, and a swordsman renowned even within the Academy for his fluid swordsmanship. A veteran of numerous wars and a monster who had recently reached the Master’s level.

He waved at Ross.

“Hello, Ross.”

“…What brings you here…”

Ross asked. Fernand chuckled, taking in the panicked faces of the supervisors.

“What else? I’m here to clean up this mess. My, my, the tents outside are quite a sight, aren’t they? Even the Dean would be furious if there were this many dropouts. I thought the head supervisor had lost his mind, I nearly cast a teleportation spell to rush over.”

“…I apologize. I’ll quickly get things under control.”

“No, no. Don’t bother. I’ll handle it myself before the situation escalates any further. The Dean himself gave me the authority.”

The words stung Ross’s face.

“…I apologize for disappointing you.”

“Huh? Oh, you thought you were getting fired? Don’t worry about it. The higher-ups have decided the participants are entirely to blame for this fiasco. Apparently, some of them are just too damn good. So, once we take care of *them*, that’ll be the end of it.”

“…Are you going to kill them?”

“Am I crazy?”

Fernan’s face hardened as he glared at Ross. Ross immediately lowered his gaze.

“My apologies. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You weren’t thinking enough. What, kill the participants? You wanna watch the Academy vanish from the map? Do you think the Headmaster would even *dream* of asking me to do something like that, huh?”

“…My apologies.”

“Let’s get this straight, Ross. Anyone listening would think I’m some kind of pleasure-seeking murderer.”

Fernan clapped Ross on the back twice, continuing.

“I’ll just test our precious little darlings myself. Word has it Grace Bydiel’s operating solo, and Asel’s friend has a trio. So, we’ll start with Grace, and then move onto the three musketeers.”

“…”

“Oh, and the rejects from the exam. They want a list compiled, separate from the others. Apparently, they’re going to determine their eligibility with a practical exam, like the other academies do. Can’t have too many failures, you know.”

“Understood. I’ll comply.”

“Good.”

Fernan grinned, tapping the hilt of his sword.

“Alright, I’m off. Time to see what our prospective disciples are capable of.”

With that, Fernan left the conference room and headed into the forest, radiating his aura. It wasn’t long before Grace’s presence registered on his senses.

His figure vanished in an instant.