Chapter 18. Freshman Initiation Ceremony (2)
It started with a sudden ambush, right after gathering all the first-year students in one place under the pretext of holding a welcome party.
The truth was that this was the annual Freshman Initiation Ceremony, a tradition that began in the fifth year of Iris Academy’s founding.
It served multiple purposes: to establish discipline through combat with second-year students, to give the freshmen a tangible sense of the power they’d one day reach, and to assess their current abilities.
Third-years helped the professors run the event, while second-years disguised themselves as intruders and attacked the first-years. The entire ordeal lasted for two hours.
Certain areas—like the dormitories, Trichy Hall, the Stia Workshop, and some parts of the main building—were designated off-limits for security and combat regulation. Staff and approved outsiders had already been evacuated from those zones.
The second-years always gave their all during the ceremony. After all, they could earn grade points for their performance.
For every first-year subdued, a second-year earned one point. These points couldn’t be easily earned elsewhere, and they could be applied to any subject. For those at risk of failing, it was a lifeline; for the ambitious, a way to leap ahead.
Interestingly, first-years could also earn points—three points per second-year taken down.
However, most first-years didn’t even know about the point system and typically just ran from the attackers.
So naturally, it was the second-years who benefited the most from it.
Many second-years, especially those who didn’t care about bonus points, would intentionally let chosen first-years defeat them—usually in exchange for money, items, or most often, loyalty to their faction.
“I’ll support you from this ceremony onward, so come under my wing”—was the kind of deal often made.
Even though this could be seen as distorting the original purpose of the ceremony, it was never formally addressed—because everyone did it.
Every faction had its promising freshmen, and while helping their own, they’d also sabotage the rivals’. Since they were playing the part of attackers anyway, there was no need to hold back.
Thanks to this mutual interference, the balance of the ceremony had never been broken.
At the pinnacle of these faction wars were the “Big Three”:
The Anis Faction, led by Anis Protinus Azerm, the Second Imperial Princess.
The Beryl Faction, headed by Beryl Dout, the son of the Archbishop of the Mondus Church.
The Seren Faction, commanded by Seren Astrea, eldest daughter of the Astrea family.
I explained all this in advance to Reina and Ridipin, and we evacuated from the soon-to-be battlefield—the central plaza—to a classroom in the annex.
Once we got inside, Reina let out a sigh of relief.
“I trusted you, but I didn’t really think it would actually happen.”
I had already explained the situation to them beforehand.
When asked how I knew all this, I casually said I picked it up from gossip—as a delinquent would—and they believed it without much suspicion.
These two were a bit too naive.
But I hadn’t told them how to deal with it—yet.
There was no rush. First, I had to earn their trust.
“So, what do we do now?” Reina asked.
“W-We should probably just run until time’s up,” Ridipin suggested nervously. “There’s no way we can beat the second-years…”
Her logic was sound. Second-years were generally stronger.
But that was only within the limits of what they knew.
“No. The correct answer is to fight back.”
“I’m all for fighting,” Reina chimed in, “but Ridipin’s not exactly wrong, is she?”
“It’s not that she’s wrong—just that she missed a key point. This is still technically an exam.”
And the golden rule of exams?
Fairness.
“The purpose of a test is to evaluate. If it’s not fair, the evaluation is meaningless. That’s why the second-years are under certain restrictions.”
For instance: output limits on aura, magic, and divine power; and a ban on advanced spells.
“And didn’t I already say? The academy wants us to fight. They’re clearly encouraging it.”
So running wasn’t just cowardice—it was effectively failing the test.
“Even with the restrictions, the gap in skill is still wide. But in the end, we have to fight.”
Reina grinned.
“Well then, guess we have no choice!”
She looked eager—excited for battle.
“So here’s what I suggest: let’s set a trap, lure them in, and take them down. What do you think?”
Reina licked her lips.
“Honestly, a frontal charge is more my style, but… if grade points are on the line, I’ll go with the method with the highest win rate.”
Ridipin took a deep breath.
“I-I think Ban’s plan is a good one.”
“Then it’s settled.”
It was spring, when nights were still longer than days.
Though the sun had long set, flashes of intense light occasionally lit up the black sky, enough to make one mistake it for daybreak.
Boom! Kaboom! Rumble! Screeeech!
The source of that chaos was the central plaza.
Magic circles of every color swallowed the plaza; blindingly white, holy beams pierced the air; golden spheres floated and clashed. The attacks were so fierce one might doubt whether any restrictions were even in place.
Students unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire were thrown around like ragdolls.
Watching this madness from afar, second-year Diego Slurt tugged down the hood of his issued black robe and let out a helpless chuckle.
“Same madness as last year. Guess you need to survive that mess to get scouted early.”
Diego’s group—three in total—had only joined the Beryl Faction late in their first year.
While there wasn’t a formal hierarchy within the factions, everyone knew there were layers. And Diego’s team was stuck doing grunt work.
Cleaning up messes, handling annoyances—they did it all. But they didn’t see themselves as miserable.
After all, being in any faction was better than being unaffiliated.
Iris Academy was crawling with nobles, and the Beryl Faction—one of the Big Three—was filled with high-ranking aristocrats.
Even as a minor noble, Diego gained valuable intel just by being close to the action. That alone made it worthwhile.
His goal? Prove his worth to Beryl Dout, the Archbishop’s heir and future leader of the church. He’d clean toilets if it got him noticed.
Iris Academy was like a smaller version of the Empire.
Even faction drama between students had real-world consequences—sometimes even escalating into inter-family feuds.
That’s why Diego’s team had been ordered to capture as many first-years as possible and offer them to the upper ranks.
‘First-years should be easy, even with restrictions,’ he thought, heart pounding with anticipation.
Just then, one teammate using detection magic spoke up.
“Found one. In a classroom in the annex.”
“Perfect. Let’s move.”
Thanks to a sound-muffling spell, their footsteps made no noise as they approached the classroom.
Diego reached for the door, but the mage stopped him.
“Wait. Something’s weird. I only detect one person inside, but the mana’s… spread out.”
“Whatever that means, it’s just a first-year. They’ve probably never even had live combat. We can’t lose.”
“But still—”
“Look, we don’t have time. Other teams are out there doing the same thing. We need numbers.”
Diego pushed forward. The door burst open with a kick.
Inside stood a green-haired girl, holding a sword, trembling in fear—Ridipin Lightjust.
She was famous. Diego grinned.
‘Trash from the Lightjust family, huh?’
Perfect target.
He charged, smiling.
“Don’t take it personally. The world’s just unfair like that!”
The privileged exploit the underprivileged, and they in turn prey on the powerless. That’s how the academy—and the Empire—worked. Diego felt no guilt.
Vwoosh!
He closed the distance and swung his sword. But Ridipin dodged with a quick backstep.
His body froze in shock.
‘She dodged…?!’
A first-year—one rumored to be banned from using swordsmanship by divine decree—had just dodged his strike?
Panicking, he stepped back.
‘Is she too scared to counterattack?’
How pathetic.
He shouted, rage boiling.
“Crush her!”
His priest teammate cast a blessing to shield the team, while the mage launched a barrage of Wind Spears at Ridipin. Diego filled the gaps, closing in again.
No first-year should withstand that.
But Ridipin dodged and parried with effortless movement.
She leaped onto a desk, murmuring:
“Reina’s attacks are stronger…”
Her mutter stabbed Diego in the pride.
Reina Serenia—a fallen noble. Being compared unfavorably to her made Diego snap.
“Raaaaagh!”
He swung wildly, losing his cool.
“Calm down!” the mage shouted. “She’s alone! We’ll wear her out!”
They resumed coordinated attacks.
Ridipin was agile—but they had blocked the exit and cornered her. The rectangular classroom gave them the edge.
As time passed, Ridipin began to tire.
Just when they were certain of victory, Diego sensed two more presences nearby.
‘Trying to steal our target at the last second? But why only two…?’
Every second-year knew standard squads had three members. Two meant something was off.
‘Wait… they’re with her!’
Realizing the danger, Diego shouted:
“Scatter—!”
But it was too late.
Desks and chairs came flying from the perimeter.
Crash! Clatter!
The three struggled to defend themselves, but while distracted, black cloth ropes weaved through the chaos and bound them together.
Flash!
As they struggled, a black-haired boy—Ban— emerged, rope in hand.
“Welcome, seniors.”
Diego tried to cut the rope—but flames engulfed it first.
“Gyaaah!”
The pain stunned them. Then a magic stone flew at them.
BOOM!
The blast drained their will to resist.
And then—
From the other side of the room, red-haired Reina charged in, sword in hand.
“And now—goodbye!”
Like wildfire, she closed the gap in an instant. Just as she slowed her steps, her blade accelerated—
[Selenia Style – Flame Cluster]
She reappeared, unleashing a storm of slashing strikes in the shape of a sphere.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
A glowing light wrapped around Diego’s team—and they vanished.
Reina landed lightly among the scattered furniture and turned to Ban and Ridipin.
She flashed a victory sign with a toothy grin.
They had only taken one small step, but it was a success.
Overjoyed, Reina hugged Ridipin.
“Ridipin! That was amazing! Even I wouldn’t have dodged that!”
“Ah, uh…”
Watching the two, Ban smiled as he reviewed the fight in his head.
‘Yeah. That was powerful enough.’
He didn’t really care about this initiation.
His real concern was the assassin targeting Reina.
To him, this was just a final field test. And the second-years? Just lab rats.
‘Now, let’s test the flash stones next.’
Smiling, Ban led the girls to the next classroom.
