After some commotion, the reception at the main gate was finally completed.
They had weeded out those who submitted fraudulent applications and those who were visibly unqualified—for example, people with physical disabilities or those who couldn't read.
Looking around the auditorium, I estimated that about one-third of the initial applicants had been eliminated, leaving roughly two hundred people.
If the physical assessment eliminates about half of them, another hundred or so will disappear by the end of the morning.
The remaining candidates will be evaluated this afternoon and tomorrow, and anyone who fails even a single subject will be immediately dismissed.
By my estimation, only about three people will survive until the end. We've made the Combat Department standards extremely rigorous.
Kirrin complained it was too harsh, but Ismera got competitive and made the theoretical evaluation incredibly difficult as well.
This is an extraordinary opportunity—direct admission to the graduating class with the chance to earn an Academy diploma next year and enter relevant institutions.
Moreover, since this is the first year we're implementing this, the Imperial Castle will be watching closely.
So we need to ruthlessly weed out unqualified candidates, and if no one meets our standards, we shouldn't select anyone at all.
Choosing mediocre candidates would give the Imperial Castle something to criticize and tarnish Kirrin's reputation, which could have a butterfly effect that might even lead to me becoming the principal.
"Principal, shall we begin now?"
"Yes, let's do that."
Kirrin stepped onto the platform and greeted the two hundred applicants.
"Hello everyone, I am Kirrin Nemara, Principal of the Academy."
"Nemara...? That Dark Elf clan Nemara?"
The applicants began murmuring as soon as Kirrin introduced herself.
"Thank you for applying to our Special Mission Academy. I wish you all success as we proceed with the selection process."
Following Kirrin, Ismera explained the overall selection procedure and important guidelines.
To be honest, Ismera looked much more like a principal than Kirrin did on that platform.
She had the elegant and dignified appearance and aura unique to pure-blooded elves. Her gentle yet clear voice and articulate speech.
Plus, she held a High Master's degree, equivalent to a doctorate in my previous life. She was flawless in every way.
It's not hard to understand why she intensely dislikes Kirrin. Honestly, if I were Ismera, I'd probably feel the same.
If Ismera became principal, our Academy would develop much further.
But what can we do? Once the Emperor got involved, competing on pure ability became impossible.
Even the Second Princess, a war hero and the head of the Imperial Security Office—one of the highest positions in the Empire—couldn't overturn this decision. A mere High Master like Ismera stands no chance alone.
As I carefully observed the applicants, I spotted that pink-haired woman again.
Her hair color was so striking that she immediately caught my eye, and this time I could observe her face more closely than before.
Currently, she was sitting with her arms crossed and legs folded, smiling.
Her downturned eyes were a similar pink to her hair. The smile on her lips was so relaxed that anyone would think she was already a student here rather than an applicant.
Judging by her fair skin and slender neck, she didn't seem to have the physique of someone who had worked as a mercenary.
But the equipment she had earlier was definitely from the Reblanc Mercenary Corps. Perhaps she's in an indirect combat role, like a mage?
That would be strange in its own way... Why would a mage apply to a place like this?
If she wanted to learn more magic, she would go to a Magic Tower, and if she wanted to make money with magic, there are countless other opportunities.
Maybe she's a spirit summoner or a healer? That doesn't seem right either.
Each profession has its own unique aura, similar to manga or game clichés, but I don't sense anything like that from her.
The more I look, the more puzzling she becomes...
Suddenly, as if sensing my gaze, the woman looked in my direction.
When our eyes met, she stared at me for a moment before turning her attention back to Ismera.
# # # # #
The physical assessment began at the main drill field.
It's an enormous flat area in the center of our Academy, so spacious that cavalry charge exercises could be conducted without issue.
Here, applicants must pass various physical tests.
What I value most is the long-distance running test around the perimeter of the drill field.
Field agents need exceptional endurance. With good endurance, they don't tire easily, and when they don't tire easily, they don't easily despair.
Given the nature of an agent's mission, they frequently have to enter dangerous areas alone and escape to safety zones without any support.
In such situations, the ability to walk and run without rest is absolutely essential.
The physical assessment began under the supervision of Combat Department professors and teaching assistants.
Each category had minimum requirements, and failing even one item meant immediate disqualification.
As a result, by the time we reached the final test—the endurance run—the initial two hundred applicants had already been reduced to one hundred and twenty, a 40 percent decrease.
"We will now conduct the endurance run, but first, let me explain some important safety guidelines."
While Waver briefed the applicants on safety procedures, I observed the candidates.
And there again, I spotted the pink-haired woman. She was with a few other Reblanc mercenary survivors.
The fact that she made it this far means she has above-average strength and muscular endurance...
So she's definitely not a mage. Mages spend their entire lives studying and, like Orendi, typically have inferior physical abilities.
Is she really a mercenary?
Well... I've seen many women perform as well as men on the battlefield, so it's not completely strange.
Actually, there are many other female applicants too, but my attention keeps getting drawn to her, perhaps because of that impossibly colored hair.
As I was watching, she suddenly raised her head and looked at me standing behind Waver.
This is happening too often to be coincidence.
"Everyone, please line up at the starting line!"
As the tense applicants lined up, Waver blew his whistle sharply.
"What the—?"
The pink-haired woman burst through the crowd of starting applicants and took the lead at an incredible speed.
If she runs like that from the beginning, she'll tire out midway.
"She's overdoing it."
Waver seemed to share my thoughts as he commented with a smile.
"Pacing is crucial for endurance running."
"That girl seems to be from Reblanc. Do you know anything about her?"
"Reblanc? That famous large mercenary corps? That girl is from there? No way."
"No, her equipment and the fact that she's been hanging around with other Reblanc mercenaries suggests it. Could she be the daughter of the Reblanc mercenary captain?"
"I don't know. I've never heard that he has a daughter."
Waver, watching the pink-haired woman who was already half a lap ahead, snapped his fingers.
"Perhaps she's not from Reblanc but has hired Reblanc friends?"
"As bodyguards, you mean?"
Some wealthy commoners who can't maintain private armies due to lack of titles sometimes hire mercenaries long-term as substitutes.
Or as Waver suggested, they might hire them for short-term protection.
"I'm not sure, but that would make sense. They might have entered as applicants to prevent any unfortunate incidents during the selection process."
"You're right. That's plausible."
During our brief conversation, the woman had already caught up to the last-place applicant. She was incredibly fast.
I wonder if she can maintain this pace for twenty laps around this huge drill field.
About an hour later...
Surprisingly, the woman who had lapped the other applicants several times was the first to cross the finish line.
She was sweating a little but barely seemed out of breath, indicating excellent physical condition.
"Well done. You're quite the runner, aren't you?"
When I approached with a smile, she looked up at me with somewhat mischievous eyes.
"I manage."
"I like that confidence. But remember, the physical assessment is just the first hurdle, and there are several more evaluations ahead, so stay focused until the very end."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Nothing particularly special about her. As Waver said, she's probably just the daughter of a wealthy family who wants to become a civil servant.
Thirty minutes after she crossed the finish line, the trailing applicants began to arrive one after another.
Without exception, they collapsed and vomited as soon as they crossed the line.
Maya, the priest who came for medical support, moved around busily performing divine healing.
The number of people who passed the physical assessment was sixty in total.
From the initial two hundred applicants, one hundred and twenty remained after the reception, and now only sixty after the physical assessment.
We've only completed the first evaluation, yet 70 percent of the original applicants have been eliminated.
Most applicants fell short of our standards, and now the real evaluation begins.
I'm curious to see how many will remain by tomorrow afternoon.
While lost in these thoughts, I felt someone watching me and looked around.
There, beyond the collapsed and retching applicants, stood the pink-haired woman with her hands on her hips, looking at me with a slanted posture.
I met her gaze, but she showed no intention of looking away, staring as if challenging me to a staring contest.
Not only have we made eye contact several times, but now she's openly staring at me.
"Head Professor, there's a brief meeting regarding this afternoon's evaluation."
A teaching assistant approached me, so I turned away from the woman and headed toward the main building.
As I left, I glanced back and saw she was still watching me.