Chapter 103: Please Expect Less From Me.

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2nd — CLASS THREE

Performance Score: 90.6

---

Class Three erupted.

Cheers filled their section.

Sophie stared upward.

Second.

Her mouth opened.

Then closed.

Then opened again.

"We’re second."

A classmate beside her laughed.

"We can see."

"We’re second!"

This time she smiled.

Actually smiled.

Not the polite smile she used when trying to keep everyone comfortable.

Not the embarrassed one from the debrief.

Pure happiness.

Several Class Three students surrounded her almost immediately.

Questions.

Congratulations.

Someone grabbed her shoulders.

Another shouted that only one student had been eliminated before the final Citadel battle.

The boy who had been eliminated in the forest sat several rows behind them.

Sophie noticed him.

Her smile softened.

He noticed.

Then raised one hand.

Two fingers.

Second.

Sophie laughed.

Relief returned.

The Hermit waited until the noise dropped.

"Class Three scored highest in information utilization."

Sophie turned toward him.

"Not cooperation?"

"No."

That surprised her.

The Hermit raised one hand.

The forest appeared.

Fog.

False sounds.

Misleading directions.

Then the observation tower.

Maps.

Scouting information.

The bridge.

The final Citadel defense.

"Information is useless if you collect it without making decisions."

The early image returned.

Sophie asking opinion after opinion.

"And decisions are dangerous when made without enough information."

Then her later behavior.

Listening.

Choosing.

Moving.

"You began too far toward one extreme."

Sophie nodded.

"And corrected faster than most."

The bridge appeared.

Class Five far in the distance.

Monsters approaching them.

Sophie calculating the travel time.

Refusing to run directly toward a fight she could not reach.

Repairing the damaged bridge instead.

"You also demonstrated one of the strongest examples of cross-class cooperation before cooperation was required."

Several students looked toward Class Five.

Alash opened both eyes now.

Sophie noticed him.

He raised one hand.

A tiny wave.

"Bridge."

She laughed.

"You’re welcome. Again."

"Excellent."

Penelope looked between them.

"Are you keeping count?"

"Social efficiency."

"That is not a thing."

The Hermit continued.

"Class Three’s largest deduction came from the time lost before Trohan learned to stop seeking universal agreement."

Sophie’s smile weakened.

"And the student who was eliminated."

"Yes."

She nodded.

That mattered more.

Then she looked toward her classmates.

Second.

Not perfect.

Not first.

But good.

Very good.

She smiled again.

"I’ll take it."

The Hermit’s eyebrows rose.

"Healthy."

Darius looked toward him.

"Was that a compliment?"

"No."

"That was definitely a compliment."

"Stop counting."

Darius smiled.

Now only one result remained.

It no longer needed to be revealed.

Everyone already knew.

That somehow made the silence worse.

Class Five had not reacted yet.

Several students were looking at one another.

Cedric appeared suspicious.

Roland was already grinning.

Elise had both hands over her mouth.

Marcus looked like he had mentally begun checking the arithmetic.

Lena was simply staring at Alash.

Mira whispered:

"No way."

Penelope slowly turned toward him.

Alash looked back.

"What?"

"You know."

"I know many things."

"We’re first."

"Technically unconfirmed."

The Mirage Hermit looked toward him.

Then raised one hand.

The final result appeared.

---

1st — CLASS FIVE

Performance Score: 94.1

---

For one full second, nothing happened.

Class Five stared upward.

Then...

"FIRST!"

"WE WON!"

"CLASS FIVE!"

Roland grabbed Cedric by the shoulders.

Cedric shoved him away.

Then immediately started shouting too.

Mira screamed.

Elise laughed.

Marcus stared at the score as though he suspected a mathematical error.

Lena actually jumped.

Alash stared upward.

First.

His expression did not brighten.

It did not soften.

It slowly became horrified.

"No."

Penelope turned toward him.

"What?"

Alash sat upright.

Fully upright.

Possibly for the first time since waking.

"No."

She followed his gaze toward the ranking.

"We’re first."

"I can see that."

"Then what’s wrong?"

Alash looked at her as though the problem should have been obvious.

"We’re first."

"Yes."

"That creates expectations."

Penelope blinked.

Around them, Class Five continued celebrating.

Alash’s expression worsened.

"People are going to expect us to remain first."

Roland heard him.

"Obviously!"

Alash looked offended.

"Why?"

"Because we’re the best class!"

"That conclusion is premature and dangerous."

Cedric laughed.

"We literally ranked first."

"In one examination."

"The first examination."

"Exactly."

Alash pointed toward the stage.

"There is still time to correct the misunderstanding."

Penelope stared at him.

"You want us to do worse?"

"No."

A pause.

"I want everyone else to stop expecting us to do well."

"That is not how first place works."

"Then first place is badly designed."

Sophie started laughing from Class Three.

James looked over.

"You are complaining about winning?"

Alash turned toward him.

"Winning creates future obligations."

James stared.

"That’s the point."

"Terrible system."

Elizabeth covered the beginning of a smile.

Daphne, unexpectedly, looked almost sympathetic.

"He’s not entirely wrong."

Everyone looked toward her.

Daphne frowned.

"I said ’entirely’. "

Alash nodded toward her.

"Finally. Reason."

The Mirage Hermit watched the exchange with visible amusement.

"Vortex."

Alash looked toward the stage.

"What?"

"If it comforts you, Class Five’s first-place ranking means the faculty will now expect considerably more from you."

Silence.

Alash stared at him.

The Hermit’s smile widened slightly.

"Much more."

Alash slowly looked toward Theoran.

"Can I transfer classes?"

"No."

"Can Class Five voluntarily surrender first place?"

"No."

"Can the rankings be classified?"

"No."

Alash leaned backward into Dream Haven.

"This Academy is hostile."

Penelope patted his shoulder.

"You’ll survive."

"Expectations are persistent."

"They don’t usually bite."

"Neither did the monsters before today."

Class Five laughed.

Then Roland stood.

"Leader!"

Alash immediately became suspicious.

"No."

Cedric stood too.

"No."

Several more followed.

"Absolutely not."

Too late.

Alash disappeared beneath celebrating classmates.

"Get off me!"

"FIRST PLACE!"

"We actually won!"

"This is exactly what I was afraid of!"

"Leader!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"You literally are!"

"Administrative technicality!"

Sophie was laughing hard enough that she had to cover her mouth.

James stared at the scene.

Then at the ranking.

Then back at Alash being buried by his class.

"Class Five."

Elizabeth folded her arms.

"You sound surprised."

"They started inside an infirmary."

"Yes."

"They carried one hundred and twenty-two wounded people."

"Yes."

"They were the slowest class."

"Yes."

"They finished first."

Elizabeth smiled faintly.

"Apparently efficiency is not always speed."

James looked toward her.

"You’re enjoying this."

"A little."

He sighed.

Daphne watched Class Five.

Nadia leaned closer.

"You look annoyed."

"I’m not."

"They beat us."

"Everyone beat us except Class Two."

James’s head turned.

"I heard that."

Daphne looked toward him.

"Good."

Nadia covered her mouth.

The Mirage Hermit finally raised his voice.

"Sit down."

Class Five ignored him.

His eyebrow twitched.

Theoran tapped his cane.

Everyone immediately returned to their seats.

Mostly.

Alash emerged with silver hair pointing in several directions.

Dream Haven remained unharmed.

Naturally.

He fixed his hair.

Then looked toward Penelope.

"You abandoned me."

"You had thirty-six people congratulating you."

"I noticed."

"You survived."

"Debatable."

The Hermit looked toward Class Five.

"You appear surprised."

Cedric answered first.

"We thought the wounded would destroy our score."

"They almost did."

The celebration quieted slightly.

Alash looked up.

The Hermit continued.

"Class Five was the slowest class to reach convergence."

True.

"You consumed far more medical supplies than necessary for pure objective completion."

Also true.

"You repeatedly exhausted your primary healer."

Every eye moved toward Alash.

He looked away.

"You transported one hundred and twenty-two wounded people who provided almost no immediate strategic benefit during the first half of the examination."

Daphne nodded.

"I said that."

Alash looked toward her.

"They became emotionally useful."

Daphne stared.

"That sentence is worse."

The Hermit continued before another argument began.

"Class Five did not rank first because you saved civilians."

Several students looked confused.

Mira raised her hand.

"Then why?"

The Hermit changed the screen.

The infirmary appeared.

Chaos.

One hundred and twenty-three patients.

Thirty-seven students.

No organization.

Then, Alash established triage categories.

Penelope turned them into structure.

Students searched the building.

Others transported patients.

Healers rotated.

Combatants defended.

The scene changed.

The first monster attack.

Alash standing before the group.

But behind him, Roland organizing students.

Cedric helping with stretchers.

Penelope reorganizing patients.

Others acting without waiting for Alash to personally instruct them.

"Because Class Five adapted around an extremely expensive decision."

The screen changed again.

The first attack ended.

Thirty-seven students remained.

Then the bridge.

Leader communication.

Convergence.

The Citadel.

"Your survival performance before the final phase was the highest."

James’s expression tightened slightly.

"Your medical performance was unsurprisingly the highest."

Alash nodded.

"Expected."

"Don’t become arrogant."

"I was stating statistics."

The Hermit ignored him.

"Your internal cooperation improved continuously."

Penelope smiled faintly.

"Your starting resources were also among the most difficult to convert into immediate mobility or combat strength."

Weapons?

Almost none.

Transportation?

None.

Information?

Minimal.

Mana crystals?

None.

Medicine?

Plenty.

Patients?

Far too many.

"And despite carrying the largest non-student burden, you reached the Citadel with every member of Class Five still active."

The hall quieted.

The Hermit looked toward Alash.

"More importantly, your leader made an unusually costly decision."

Alash’s expression changed slightly.

"And the rest of you made it work."

That landed differently.

Alash looked toward his classmates again.

Thirty-six.

Not followers.

Not subordinates.

People who had argued with him.

Questioned him.

Helped him.

Corrected him.

Carried people because he asked.

Sometimes without being asked.

The Hermit continued.

"Your first-place ranking belongs to Class Five."

Alash’s eyes sharpened.

"Excellent."

The Hermit continued.

"Not Vortex."

Alash immediately raised one hand.

"Please repeat that louder."

The hall laughed.

The Hermit stared at him.

"Your ranking belongs to the entire class."

Alash nodded with visible satisfaction.

"Better."

Roland laughed.

"You’re really trying to give away the credit."

"I am extremely comfortable redistributing responsibility, credit, expectations, and paperwork."

"Mostly responsibility."

"Correct."

Penelope leaned toward him.

"You still did well."

Alash looked at her.

"So did you."

She paused.

That answer had apparently not been expected.

Then she smiled.

"Thank you."

"Don’t make it emotional."

"There he is."

Alash leaned back into Dream Haven.

First place.

Terrible.

But apparently a class problem.

That was significantly better.

Maybe.

Until professors started expecting things.

Future Alash could deal with that.

Preferably after sleeping.

***

The rankings remained visible for another moment.

Class Five.

Class Three.

Class One.

Class Four.

Class Two.

Five different starting points.

Five different failures.

Five different corrections.

Then the numbers faded.

The hall immediately became noisy again.

Class Two was already discussing what they needed to fix.

James and Tristan were arguing about formation structure.

Sophie was surrounded by classmates still celebrating second.

Elizabeth appeared to be quietly reconstructing every lost point despite claiming the result was merely a useful number.

Daphne was listening while Nadia explained why fourth was "emotionally respectable."

She looked one sentence away from using Gravity.

And Alash, had already closed his eyes.

Of course.

Theoran stood beside the Mirage Hermit.

For once, neither spoke.

The first-years were loud.

Exhausted.

Bruised only in memory.

Several had experienced death.

Others had watched classmates disappear in front of them.

Some had failed.

All had learned something.

Theoran glanced toward the Hermit.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You’ve spent the whole time complaining that teaching is beneath you."

"It is."

"You said children were irritating."

"They are."

"You said structured education encourages intellectual laziness."

"It does."

"You said administrative schedules were an insult to human freedom."

The Hermit looked toward him.

"They are."

Theoran’s eyebrow twitched.

"Then I assume you’re leaving."

The Hermit did not answer.

That made Theoran look at him properly.

The man’s pale grey eyes were not on the Headmaster.

They were on the students.

More specifically, five of them.

Elizabeth Aurelius.

James Vellaroux.

Sophie Trohan.

Daphne Spinster.

Alash Vortex.

For a moment, his thoughts returned to fifteen years earlier.

That impossible sensation.

Something opening.

Something changing.

He had never identified the source.

No spell.

No artifact.

No known magical phenomenon.

Only a brief feeling that something somewhere in the world had shifted.

Then nothing.

For fifteen years.

Until recently.

Five children had been born around that period.

Five children who now possessed SSS Potential.

Five children Theoran had placed at the front of five separate classes.

And twice today, when those five had come together inside his illusion, the Hermit had felt something.

Faint.

Almost impossible to distinguish from the countless interactions occurring inside a shared mental world.

But it had been there.

At their first convergence.

Then again when all five Guardian Seals connected them.

Five.

Always five.

He still did not know what it meant.

Perhaps it was coincidence.

An interaction between five unusually powerful students.

Something caused by their Attributes.

Something caused by the illusion.

Something caused by him.

There were dozens of reasonable explanations.

None satisfied him.

The Mirage Hermit had spent most of his life becoming powerful enough that very few things remained genuinely mysterious.

He had forgotten how irritating curiosity could be.

His eyes settled on Alash.

The silver-haired boy had already returned to attempting sleep.

Penelope noticed.

Her hand moved toward his shoulder.

The Hermit almost smiled.

For the first time in many years, he wanted to find out.

The Hermit turned toward Theoran.

"I’ll stay."

The Headmaster went completely still.

"What?"

"I’ll teach them."

Theoran stared.

Yesterday, that would have been the most surprising statement he could have heard.

Today had adjusted his standards.

"All of them?"

The Hermit looked toward the one hundred and eighty-seven first-years.

Then sighed.

"Unfortunately."