The Tale of Gerald Vader, the Heretic Knight’s Rampage Through Another World
It was the dead of night, when even the plants and trees were asleep.
Though the conference room in the academy’s administration building—which was normally sealed off by locks and magical barriers and should have been deathly quiet at this hour—was, on this night alone, brimming with energy and excitement.
Seated around a large oak conference table placed in the center of the room were about ten men and women of all ages.
The white-haired man sitting at the far end of the table—Principal Josef—surveyed the room with a stern expression.
“…Well then. Shall we get down to the main topic of this meeting?”
In response to his voice, everyone gathered around the table nodded.
—Tonight’s faculty meeting covered a wide range of topics.
It began with a report on the academy’s recent operational status, followed by the re-approval of the revised budget for the new fiscal year—which had already been approved at the previous regular meeting—and a progress report on the reconstruction plan for the aging Magic Research Building. There was an exchange of opinions regarding the replacement of outdated equipment and facilities, and then a discussion of the achievements of graduates assigned to the front lines.
But at this meeting, all of that was merely a prelude.
On each desk lay a thick stack of documents.
These were the results of yesterday’s exams, submitted just moments ago by the Student Council’s administrative office.
“Hmm… I have to choose seven students from this list. It’s a difficult task, just like every year.”
Joseph picked up a sheet from the pile and stroked his white goatee.
Before his eyes, the document listed the names and grades of about thirty students.
The main purpose of this meeting was to select the students who would be admitted to the “Special Class” from the shortlist narrowed down by the recent exams.
“This year, in particular, there are many children of influential nobles. Every family has been lobbying us, both openly and behind the scenes, to get their children into the ‘Special Class’ at any cost. We’ve taken their requests into account and managed to narrow it down as best we could… but honestly, it’s giving me a headache.”
In response to Joseph’s words, the bald man sitting to his left—Vice Principal Christoph—wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
“If a child enters the ‘Special Class’ upon enrollment, not only is their future guaranteed, but it also adds prestige to their family name. That’s only natural. …But if we were to select students based solely on family influence, there would be no point in us teachers existing.”
“Well, that’s true enough. Personally, I’d prefer to select students primarily from knightly families.”
“That said, the children of influential nobles have received a rigorous education from a young age and are, without exception, outstanding. The top student is the daughter of His Grace the Duke of Rosenheim.”
“Ah, Veronica, is it? She’s second in magical ability… but she’s first in every other category.”
“Hmm, she truly lives up to being the Duke of Rosenheim’s daughter.”
Comments came one after another from the attendees.
“Nora is first in the magic power assessment. She’s… the daughter of Baron Lebron. She’s also in the top three in all other subjects, so I think she’s the best choice.”
Amidst this,
one of the attendees, a woman wearing glasses—Lilia, the magic instructor—set aside the documents in her hands, looked around at everyone, and spoke up.
“In that case, those two are settled, then.”
“Hmm. I have no objections. What about the rest of you?”
“I think that’s fine.”
“No objections.”
Everyone nodded.
With that, two of the seven “Special Class Students” had been decided.
“…And, Vice Principal, is there a student you’d like to recommend?”
“Well now…”
In response to Josef’s words, Christoph crossed his arms and let out a grunt.
“Personally, I’d recommend Lucas Matador. His written exam score was a mediocre 35th place, but his magical power ranks 10th. He’s physically fit, and above all, he’s the eldest son of the Matador family—a renowned knightly lineage. As for his practical skills… well… Lord Black Lion, having faced him in combat, what were your actual impressions?”
“Lucas? Was there such a guy?”
The one who replied was a man in his mid-forties sitting at the far end of the desk.
Slouching in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk, he glared at Christoph.
After thinking for a moment, he snapped his fingers.
“Ah, that bullfighting guy. Well, I don’t think he’s bad. He’s big, so he’s got power, and he’s got guts.”
As he said this, he picked up a single sheet of paper from the stack in front of him, glanced at it, and tossed it aside with a dismissive flick of his wrist.
“…His Blessing is the ‘Blessing of Black Iron,’ huh? That ability enhances physical strength and hardens the body. It’s more suited for heavy infantry than knights. I see. Extending the time before he gets killed by monsters isn’t bad. I’ll be watching him closely from now on.”
“Hey, Lionel. I appreciate you agreeing with me, but that’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“An exaggeration?”
Seeing Christoph frown, the Black Lion—Lionel—raised one eyebrow sharply.
“Listen, Vice Principal. Since you’re on secondment from the church, you probably don’t know this, but whether you’re a noble knight or a commoner soldier, to monsters and demon beings, you’re all just the same ‘flesh.’”
“…………”
Unable to find words to counter such an outrageous argument, Christoph was met with another barrage from Lionel.
“If I’m being honest about my experience facing them, this guy is the type who relies on his size and brute strength to knock opponents down. But even among monsters—let alone demon lords—there are countless others far stronger than this guy, who’s been trained to the max. Do you really think a guy who’s just brute-forced his way through without any real technique can survive in a world like that?”
“Well…”
“Well, never mind that. His endurance is the real deal, though. With the right training, he might amount to something. In fact, in my test, only this guy and one other person managed to withstand more than ten attacks. Ah, was his name Klaus… or something like that?”
“Klaus Crowley… is that right? He’s a knight candidate of commoner birth, isn’t he?”
The vice principal picked up Klaus’s file, glanced at it, and then wore a look of disinterest.
“True, he ranked third in the written exam, and his practical skills are certainly solid… but his magical power is utterly mediocre. And while he does have a blessing, it’s a very common one—it merely improves his eyesight slightly.”
“Klaus is, after all, of knightly lineage. To be precise, going back three generations.”
“I’m not sure it’s appropriate to treat that as equivalent to a proper knightly family, Lilia.”
“‘Proper’? What do you mean by that, Vice Principal?”
“Now, now, everyone, calm down. Christoph, when was the last time we had a student from a commoner background?”
As if to ease the tense atmosphere spreading through the conference room, Headmaster Josef came to the Vice Principal’s rescue.
“It’s been five years. …! It seems… Count Avento… has recommended… him…”
The Vice Principal, who had been mocking him just moments ago, began to look increasingly uncomfortable as he read the documents aloud.
“In that case, Klaus’s hometown must already be…”
“The Count of Avend’s domain—including the capital—has been almost entirely swallowed up by the Demon Realm, hasn’t it?”
“I believe the Count himself led a knightly order, slew countless monsters, and fought a fierce battle against five demon lords before meeting a glorious end.”
Someone’s voice echoed through the now-silent conference room.
“…Tch. So he’s a former subject of the ‘Eagle King.’ No wonder he’s got such a shitty attitude.”
Lionel said this with a bitter expression and picked up the document containing information on Klaus.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll handle this one… no, first I’ll have my apprentice, Alissa, train him. That makes him ‘Special Class.’ Does anyone here have any objections?”
He asked this, but his eyes held an unyielding intensity.
And no one objected to his proposal.
“Um… well, moving on to the next candidate… since we’ve brought up Alissa. Her younger brother is enrolling this year, isn’t he? Let’s see… Gerald, is it?”
The vice principal said this while breaking out in a cold sweat, pulled a sheet of paper from the documents on his desk… and let out a cry of surprise.
“Well now, he came in second place on the written exam, just a hair behind Veronica. As the younger brother of Alissa, who handles student council administrative duties, he’s exceptionally talented—that’s excellent.”
“However, he makes mistakes on some strange questions. His accuracy rate exceeds 90% on every other question. On the other hand, he gets every single question right on the ones with an accuracy rate of around 10%.”
“What on earth is that about?”
As Lilia read the document aloud, Lionel, hearing this, frowned in puzzlement.
“So, you mean he’s intentionally giving the wrong answers to the questions anyone could get right?”
“That’s hardly plausible, is it?”
“What would he gain from doing something like that?”
“It’s hard to wrap my head around.”
Everyone exchanged glances.
A sense of confusion hung in the air of the conference room.
As if to dispel that awkward atmosphere, Lilia continued reading from the documents.
“…Well, setting aside those unclear grades, his magical power is somewhere in the upper-middle range.”
“His magical power isn’t a bad number in itself. He’s sharp-witted and has high magical power. The only flaw is that he’s not particularly well-built for a knight… but overall, ‘Advanced Class’ should be fine.”
“No, he’s ‘Special Class’ too.”
“Lord Black Lion?”
Lionel interrupted Joseph’s decision.
Not many would dare to challenge the Headmaster’s decision.
But the Black Lion—Lionel—stared him down and repeated, “He’s Special Class.”
“Lord Black Lion! Even though you’ve only recently returned from the battlefield, overturning the Headmaster’s decision is—”
“I don’t care.”
Joseph gestured for Christoph to be quiet and calmly fixed his gaze on Lionel.
“Still, I’d at least like you to explain your reasoning, Lord Black Lion.”
“It’s simple.”
Lionel pulled his chair back with a clatter, rested his elbows on the desk, and clasped his hands in front of his mouth.
“It’s because that guy managed to take a point from me during the practical exam.”
“…What?”
Joseph stood up with a clatter.
At the same moment, the gaze of everyone present turned to Lionel.
Everyone wore expressions of disbelief.
“That’s simply impossible. Lord Black Lion, surely you aren’t showing favoritism just because he’s the younger brother of your favorite disciple—”
“Hey, don’t underestimate me.”
When Lionel glared at Christoph, the latter let out a startled “Huh?” and turned pale.
“Of course, just because it’s an exam doesn’t mean I went all out. It’s just a wooden sword, and the exam rules forbid the use of divine protection anyway. But he managed to do something that not only my apprentices Alissa and Lucy, but even my own subordinates in the Knights’ Order couldn’t do. So, there’s no other option but ‘Special Class,’ right?”
“…If you say so, I have nothing more to add. Headmaster, what do you think?”
Christoph looked at Joseph, seeking his guidance.
Joseph kept his eyes closed for a moment, but when he finally opened them, he turned to Lionel and gave a firm nod.
“Very well. But since you’ve decided that, does that mean Gerald will join your Order of Knights after he graduates?”
“Of course. I can’t let someone as interesting as him get snatched up by the Order of the Holy Temple or the Royal Guard.”
With that, Lionel flashed a smile like a wild beast.
“…Well then, there are three spots left. Are there any others you’d like to recommend?”
Joseph looked around the room.
One after another, hands shot up among the attendees.
“Then, may I make a suggestion as well?”
“No, I’m afraid I’d prefer to go next.”
In the blink of an eye, more than half the slots were filled, and a sense of urgency seemed to grip the attendees who had “backing.”
“Hold on, hold on. We’ll hear everyone’s opinions in turn, so calm down.”
The heated debate grew more and more intense, and the night wore on.
They had finished selecting all the “Special Class” students just as the sun began to rise above the horizon.