Chapter 13: Practical Exam (1)
The miniature city of Baektop, named after the “Hundred Towers” that adorned its premises, was most famously known as the Philleon Academy. The nickname originated from the literal presence of a hundred large and small towers within the grounds, though there were actually 103 towers in total.
“We lived in a doghouse,” Ronan mused, seemingly taken aback. He hadn’t noticed the true expanse when he had come looking for Varen. The sheer size was unimaginable.
Marya remarked, “It reminds me of when I first arrived. It’s spacious, isn’t it?”
“Damn, this isn’t just spacious. It’s like raising three dragons.”
Ronan was astounded. He was sure there might even be entertainment or pleasure quarters hidden somewhere, albeit discrete ones, since it was a place for students. He pointed towards the grand central castle within the premises.
“Exams were held over there, right?”
“Yeah, exactly. The Gallarion Main Hall.”
The Gallarion Castle, the largest structure in Philleon, played the role of the main hall. It was not only architecturally impressive but also strategically advantageous. The practical exams for martial arts were conducted there.
“By the way...”
“What?”
“Your attire is extravagant. What’s with the fancy getup?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Marya was wearing an outfit he had never seen her in before.
The attire was sophisticated and elegant, befitting a noblewoman, and it wasn’t a stretch to believe she was from a high-ranking family.
“You dress up like this for an exam that happens once a year? Not bad, though. People said cuties are pretty, and it holds true for you.”
“That sniveling guy would call you elegant even if you wolfed down soup with your bare hands, so don’t mind him.”
“Hmph, how about in your eyes?”
Two short swords dangled from her hips, seemingly the ones she usually used. The scabbards were different from her usual ones, adorned with ornate patterns in gilded metal. Ronan broke the silence after a moment.
“Well... not bad.”
“Hehe, really?”
Marya playfully tapped Ronan’s arm and started giggling. Her laughter was so infectious that people around them couldn’t help but look over.
A few seconds later, her laughter turned into a stifled gasp.
“Hot!”
“Did a bug fly into your mouth?”
“Ouch, you be careful too. I almost forgot. Do you realize how many nobles are here?”
“Nobles?”
Marya explained that Philleon was currently hosting nobles from all over the continent. Their expressions were mostly sour due to the rule that restricted entry and exit of outsiders and carriages, excluding examinees. She covered her mouth again and coughed.
“This could get quite interesting. I’d love to provoke them and start arguments, but it’s impossible since we don’t even know which country’s nobles they are.”
“But what’s the connection between nobles and your laughter? Can’t you laugh in front of them?”
“It’s not that, but those could potentially be our main customers in the upper ranks later. No point in showing off our commoner side needlessly.”
“Why does being a commoner matter?”
Marya raised her head and met Ronan’s gaze. At this point, he couldn’t tell if she was genuinely asking or if it was a sophisticated form of condescension. She sighed before continuing.
“...Even among the well-behaved nobles, there are many who regard commoners like cockroaches. Traders who run businesses have to put on a show of deference and humility. The moment you underestimate them, the deal goes sour.”
“Nice to meet you.”
She used her middle name instead of her actual name. When Marya extended her hand for a handshake, Deirian quickly grabbed it with both hands and shook it fervently up and down.
Seeing the almost princely attitude towards Marya, Ronan couldn’t help but feel disgusted.
“Are you going to showcase your family’s swordsmanship?”
“Yes, that’s right. This time... I’ve memorized it perfectly.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Your sword looks quite impressive. Did you craft it at the Darn Forge?”
“Ah! You recognized it... Your discernment is remarkable...!”
Afterwards, the two continued to share various conversations. Whenever Marya praised Deirian, he would respond by praising her beauty and grace.
‘By the gods, She is a born merchant.’
Marya appeared entirely different when interacting with nobles. It was hard to believe she was the same person who had slammed her head into a chair during their first encounter.
Ronan pretended disinterest with feigned yawns or mumbled words, but his ears were wide open to them. Somewhat acrid yet oddly addictive, it was like the smell of navel lint.
Suppressing his urge to cry out, Ronan listened to their conversation while Marya cheered on Deirian as it was his turn.
Marya smiled brightly and spoke, “It’s your turn next, Lord Deirian. I wish you the best.”
“Milady Sen...”
Deirian sniffled as if moved. He still held Marya’s hand tightly.
Magic seemed to reach a point where it became enchanting. Ronan resisted the urge to slap Marya on the back of her head, declaring her a witch.
Deirian spoke, “The honor is mine, Milady Sen. If it wouldn’t be too impolite, may I inquire about your full name? I promise to bring up today’s exchange when I visit the Lady’s domain in the future.”
Marya’s expression stiffened for a moment. Deirian seemed to mistake her for a noblewoman. Ronan perked up, interested in what Marya’s response would be.
Would she play along with some made-up name to imitate nobility, or would she believe in Deirian’s values and tell the truth? Marya chose the latter.
“I have no title. Just call me Sen.”
“Pardon?”
Deirian’s face was filled with confusion.
“Uh, well... In that case... Are you... a commoner?”
His tone was akin to asking about the news of a spouse’s or parent’s death. Slowly, strength drained from Deirian’s grip on her hand.
Marya slightly bit her lower lip, then gave a coquettish smile.
“Yes.”
“Ugh...”
His grip completely loosened. Then, out of nowhere, Deirian slapped Marya’s cheek.
Smack!
The sound of the slap silenced the buzz of the waiting room for a moment.
Ronan stood up, ready to intervene.
“Stay back.”
Marya whispered, her head slightly turned towards Ronan, assuring him with her expression. After a brief hesitation, Ronan sat down.
It was obvious Marya signaled him, “It’s okay.”