Through the corridors of the Castle, students and professors alike moved at a hurried clip.
First-years were preparing for term-end assessments; second- through sixth-years had to prepare for the Inter-House Tournament on top of that; and the sixth-years, on top of all of it, were buried in graduation affairs.
The Academy's once fairly relaxed atmosphere had grown tight as a drawn string.
Even Dark had no choice but to push his research on the "Major Sin" back to next month.
As for this month, he would simply extract and store as much of the "Major Sin" above the ninety-point standard line as he could, saving it for later use.
He also had a half-finished "Transfiguration Spell" in hand, but there was truly no time to study the spell-writing behind it — and Professor Kazel was clearly getting busier by the day, so Dark felt bad about disturbing him.
Still, the long vacation ran three whole months. He could easily save these projects for after the term ended.
It wasn't as though he'd be out running around once he got home anyway. Better to have something to do.
Decision made, Dark turned his attention to the term-end assessments — above all to the Astronomy project, which was almost certainly the first assignment since his enrollment that gave him absolutely nowhere to begin.
If he had seen even slightly fewer constellations inside the Star Palace Labyrinth, he could have found some way to analyze the differences between them and pick out the Inner Constellation that best matched his own sense of self.
It might not have been precise, but at least there would have been a point of entry.
Who could have guessed he would see all eighty-eight constellations in the Star Palace Labyrinth?
The problem, with no angle of approach whatsoever, plagued him for a full week.
It wasn't until Wednesday of the second week of May that he gave up and went to ask Professor Medea about it.
The look she gave him afterward left a very deep impression.
Once he had his answer, he had to ask, "Inner Constellations can be plural?"
Professor Medea only said, "Not for ordinary people, of course. But there are always those born extraordinary in this world. You, for instance."
Dark's mouth twisted into an awkward grin.
Nobody understood how extraordinary he was better than he did — but wasn't this particular flavor of extraordinary a bit off?
What good were eighty-eight Inner Constellations? Was he supposed to write eighty-eight papers?
"That's your problem to solve," Professor Medea said, fighting down a smile. "The assignment has been set. How you handle it is your business. I only handle the grading."
Dark: "…"
…
So Dark was forced to compile the complete records of all eighty-eight constellations, wrote an analysis long enough to burst its binding, and — based on that final scene of destruction he had witnessed in the Star Palace Labyrinth — made a tentative attempt at a "prophetic reading."
But "prophetic reading" here amounted to little more than a vague forecast of events in the near future.
The flames erupting from beneath his feet signified that he would step into danger, and the fire itself indicated that the calamity he met would be fire-related.
That was roughly the depth of the "prophetic reading."
And once you had a reading, naturally you had to seek a countermeasure.
Generally speaking, water quenches fire.
So to counter a disaster of flame, one should seek out something of the water attribute.
That was indeed what Dark wrote in the assignment.
What he actually thought, though, was: couldn't he just not go outside?
He had no plans to go anywhere anyway, did he?
So Dark didn't dwell on it.
By the time he finally finished the Astronomy class term project, the third week of May had arrived.
Over the previous two weeks he had extracted a total of 5 drops of "Pride" and 5 drops of "Greed," leaving 6.5 points of "Pride" and 6.5 points of "Greed," all of it stored inside the Insect Tree.
Then, on Thursday afternoon of the third week, History of Magic finally handed down its term project as well.
As one of the core courses, History of Magic had always been assessed through a theory exam combined with an in-class defense.
But every professor had ideas of his own.
Professor Ryan Hacks held that a theory exam in History of Magic served little purpose, and had replaced it with an open-book research paper — the same format as Astronomy.
He listed eight topics in total, from which students could choose freely.
In practice, though, not one of them was easy, and every last one was dry as dust with nothing entertaining about it, which set the little first-year Magic Guide Masters wailing.
History of Magic was a core course, after all — not an interest course like Astronomy.
If your score in it fell below the line, you faced a failure, a make-up exam, even remedial tutoring.
And failing multiple courses could mean repeating the year — which really would be the end.
So however much the first-years howled inside, they still threw themselves into hunting down references and finishing the project.
Dark was no different. These days his free hours ran a straight line between the Library and the dormitory, and he grew busier by the day.
Beyond History of Magic, the other courses announced their assessment methods one after another in class.
Summoning, Magic Guide Theory, Potions and Dueling Class all used a written theory exam combined with a practical assessment.
Only Arithmetic Class and Monster Studies were written theory alone.
Of those, Monster Studies had the lower bar, and for now still counted as the interest-course type.
All practical assessments would take place in the fourth week of May, while the written exams began on the 28th.
Papers, experiments, revision — between them, the students' entire month of May was packed solid.
So much so that first-year interest in the Academy Cup race dropped noticeably.
Plenty of them were buried in their books when it suddenly hit them: the Inter-House Tournament was about to begin!
First-years couldn't compete in the Inter-House Tournament, yet the collective pride handed down through the Academy's long history still pulled them in deep.
The mood between students of different Houses soured considerably as a result.
"From eight o'clock Friday night to eight o'clock Sunday night — forty-eight hours."
"Each House, for each year from second through sixth, selects three students to form a team, which then enters the dungeon to adventure. Points are calculated at the end from each team's results."
"Before the contest begins, the Academy releases several high-value missions. Complete one first and you earn a large point award."
"Beyond that, subjugating a Floor BOSS, exploring unknown regions and similar acts all carry bonus points."
"Lower years also receive a weighting coefficient relative to higher years."
"So in the Dungeon Tournament, the upper years don't necessarily hold a firm lead over the lower years in points."
"Unfortunately, the Dungeon Tournament isn't broadcast live. All you can do is estimate the situation from the shifting scores of each House."
Dark set the rulebook down and returned to his revision.
Other people's dungeon adventures held little interest for him.
This time next year — that would be his stage.
…
Not until seven o'clock Sunday evening did he set aside pen and paper, leave the dormitory and come down to the common room.
By then the common room was packed to bursting.
Noble House students crowded together, arguing fiercely over the point swings.
Down in the dungeon, twenty adventuring teams — four Houses across five year levels — had clearly picked up the pace in this final hour, and every House's temporary credits were climbing fast.
Dark found the spot where the first-years had gathered, sat down beside Doron, and asked, "So? Who's ahead?"
Doron's cheeks were flushed red with excitement, and he burst out at once, "Noble House, obviously!"
But the chubby little Pistan beside him looked rather tense. "A narrow lead — we could be overtaken any second. Magic House is strong this year!"
Dark took out his Sorting Card and opened the bar chart. Sure enough, Noble House's temporary credits sat only slightly above Magic House's, with Knight House and Fool's House close on their heels.
The overall strength gap between the four Houses wasn't nearly as wide as one might imagine. The competitors chosen from each year were all top-tier students, and there was little to separate them.
"There's still half an hour before the critical stretch, isn't there?" Dark said after a moment's thought.
Pistan nodded at once. "That's right. Half an hour from now, the strongest mission BOSS of this Dungeon Tournament appears. Whoever finds and subjugates it in that window most likely takes the lead. Even Fool's House, which has the lowest temporary credits right now, could seize first place in an instant!"
"The strongest mission BOSS… at second- and third-year level, I doubt they could bring it down even if they found it."
Dark glanced down at the Sorting Card again — and his eyelid twitched. "Fool's House. Did they just clear some high-value mission?"
Almost simultaneously, cries of shock broke out across the common room, one after another.
The bar representing Fool's House had shot up a huge stretch in an instant, launching the House with the lowest temporary credits straight to the top!
Dark turned his head slightly and found Doron — thrilled a moment ago — now pounding the table with both hands, the very picture of a man whose winning game had just collapsed under him.
Chubby little Pistan hurriedly pointed out the gap figures on the table to console him. "Don't panic, Doron, we've still got a chance!"
"Right. It's not over till it's over, it's not over till it's over!" Doron clenched his fists, muttering it over and over until he quieted down.
Dark looked around the room and found plenty of others just as worked up as Doron.
A thought crossed his mind: "These people seem to care about the Academy Cup more than I do."
His own interest in the Academy Cup was rooted in his need for the Holy Grail.
But his classmates here seemed driven purely by this so-called Noble House pride.
…
Just as Dark was analyzing his classmates' psychology, the bar chart on the Sorting Card lurched again.
Knight House, Magic House, even Noble House — now fallen to second — all seemed to have completed some high-value mission at once, sending their temporary credits soaring.
Then, with only half an hour left in the Dungeon Tournament, the climb suddenly leveled off.
According to the upper-year students' predictions, this most likely meant the senior teams of all four Houses had discovered the strongest BOSS at the same time.
"How many points does that mission BOSS give?" Dark asked.
Pistan snatched up a sheet of reference material beside him, glanced at it, then looked up. "One hundred thousand."
"A hundred thousand?" Dark considered. "I remember the duel matches in the Academy Cup award ten thousand per win?"
Pistan nodded. "That's right. The duel matches use an inter-House format — first the years face off against their own level, then there are cross-year challenges. Each year may send only one person, and each person gets one chance at a cross-year challenge.
"Every duel won earns ten thousand base points, and beating someone one year above earns another ten thousand base points. The House with the highest total receives an additional hundred-thousand-point victory bonus."
"Which means this hundred thousand cancels out the victory bonus from the duel competition."
Dark narrowed his eyes.
Since these were temporary credits, the raw totals in the tens of thousands meant nothing on their own. What mattered was the margin.
A margin of one hundred thousand could decide the whole contest.
And if the strongest mission BOSS of the Dungeon Tournament and the duel competition's victory bonus went to two different Houses, then settling the outcome would come down to everything else they'd accumulated.
At that point the total actual credits — close between the Houses — and the temporary credits converted from term-end assessment scores would finally start to matter.
…
The atmosphere afterward turned visibly strained. Every student in the common room stared hard at the bar chart on their Sorting Cards, waiting for the final result.
With two minutes left before eight o'clock sharp, the Magic House credit bar leapt upward in a single violent jump!
The whole room erupted in groans.
"It's over. This year's Holy Grail is gone!"
"Why Magic House? Why does it have to be Magic House?"
"Quick, someone work out the credit gap—"
Wails rose and fell everywhere, along with the sound of hands slapping tables, slapping watermelons, slapping radishes.
Beside an ashen-faced Doron, Dark was the first to calculate the credit gap, and let out a small breath of relief.
The slim advantage Noble House had built early on had done its work: the gap between the two Houses was still under one hundred thousand.
Which meant that if Noble House took victory in the duel matches, they stood a strong chance of claiming the Academy Cup.
In other words, there was still a chance.
And a chance was certainly better than none.
The mood in the room gradually eased.
The younger students fell to discussing it among themselves.
The upper-years, though, looked like deflated balloons, heads drooping as they filed out one by one.
Watching them go, Dark laced his fingers together and made his estimate. "Looks like I'd better prepare myself for not getting the Holy Grail this year."
Winning the Academy Cup's duel competition was no simple matter — least of all with that "Silver Dragon Maiden" sitting in Magic House's fourth year.
Last year's duel competition had gone exactly that way. The "Silver Dragon Maiden" had not only taken a win point in her own year's duels but claimed a second in the cross-year challenge, carrying Magic House to final victory in the dueling.
If Noble House's advantage in the Dungeon Tournament hadn't been so overwhelming, they would never have won the Academy Cup last year at all.
"So be it. In the end you have to rely on yourself."
Dark drew a slow breath and rose from his seat.
Fortunately, his need for the Holy Grail wasn't that urgent yet.
The "Soul-Sucker Spell" had reached basic rank with Professor Harvey's Helping Hand.
And the [Nether God Art], through relentless effort, had at last brushed the threshold of a breakthrough.
Dark clapped Doron on the shoulder. "Don't lose heart. Even if we lose this year, there's always next year."
____
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