"Line up!" a voice called from the staircase, and the teenagers bustled about, forming two rows by height. Without hesitation, I headed to the very end of the line but found I wasn’t the shortest.
Behind me stood a thin, dark-haired girl in an unorthodox uniform for the academy. Like mine, her attire stood out for its quality tailoring, but unlike mine, hers didn’t hang like a sack on her figure.
"Gentlemen candidates," a pleasant, deep male voice boomed, and through the gap between the backs of the first row, I glimpsed a man in a gray three-piece suit, neatly styled hair, and an odd pince-nez clipped to his nose.
‘Was he trying to emphasize his elitism or intellect?’
A wasted effort—it looked rather comical. However, not a trace of amusement was visible on the students’ faces.
"Today is a momentous day. Over five hundred candidates from across the country have gathered, but only forty will earn a place at the Zuvorin Junior Imperial Academy," the speaker continued, scanning the orderly rows with a sharp gaze. "This greatest of honours can be achieved through only one thing: hard work and dedication. Show your best qualities. Godspeed!"
"To serve the homeland!" came a disjointed response, which I barely managed to echo in time.
‘Interesting—five hundred?’
This crowd was sizable, but even all those gathered in the hallway didn’t come close to that number. So, the exams must be taking place elsewhere, and we’d be gathered later.
"Group seven, enter," a female voice called, and my fellow exam-takers began filing into the classroom. Judging by how they seated themselves, everyone had been given instructions, so I decided not to disrupt the system.
Entering by height meant only the two front desks were left for me. After a brief moment of thought, I chose the one farther from the teacher, who was already seated at the podium.
"Reminder: the use of phones, cameras, or headphones during the exam is strictly prohibited," a young man, about thirty years old, dressed in a formal military uniform, announced as he rose from his seat. "Anyone caught cheating will be immediately disqualified and dismissed from further assessments. Restroom breaks are only permitted with an examiner escort. Any questions?"
No one had any questions—what could you ask when everything was intuitively clear? Everyone sat with blank expressions, simply waiting.
"If there are no questions, let’s begin. Distribute the envelopes," the officer ordered, and two young women entered the room carrying large bags.
As I was seated in the front row, a yellow opaque envelope, sealed in plastic, was immediately placed before me. "Do not open until the bell!"
A few nervous students who had already reached for their envelopes quickly pulled their hands back.
"The packet contains everything you need: your question sheet, paper, a ruler, and a pen for your answers. Once you complete all the tasks, place all items back into the packet, write your full name on the outside, and include your application documents. The paper is official and stamped, so don’t try any tricks," the examiner sternly explained. "At the end of the exam, all packets with documents must be sealed and submitted, regardless of your level of completion. Prepare yourselves!"
Everyone tensed, and even I needed a few seconds to shake off the imposed tension and take a deep breath to fully regain my composure.
Well done, examiner, you really pumped up the atmosphere. So, as soon as the bell rang, dozens of hands instantly tore into the envelopes.
It took all my self-control not to follow the example of the other students. Calmly tearing a corner of the transparent packet, I pulled out the ruler and used it, like a paper knife, to carefully open the rest of the documents.
Laying them out in order, I checked the officer’s instructions, selected a couple of sheets, marked their headers with the ruler, and wrote boldly at the top: "Draft."
For my answers, the other sheets would suffice, but solving the mathematical problems without additional checks was out of the question. I hadn’t prepared well for those, and the list included four problems on geometry and algebra—or more accurately, ballistics.
The assignment list had ten questions in total: three on history, four on mathematics, two on law and the noble code, and one on military technology.
The spoken language would, of course, be assessed through the written answers themselves, and literature through the historical responses.
Jotting down concise answers about the liberation around the world much similar to earth was my task.
Having detailed the historical events and added a bit of my opinion on them, I moved on to the legal questions and noble status. Here, everything turned out to be surprisingly simple—just describe the nobleman’s oath to the emperor and the reciprocal oath of the sovereign.
Stolen novel; please report.
I remember being quite surprised when I first studied this topic, learning that it wasn’t a one-sided promise—the emperor also assumed many obligations.
The second question concerned the differences between commoner and noble families, personal and hereditary nobility, and examples of personal titles becoming familial.
Judging by the phrasing, they expected a recount of Zuvorin Ancestor’s achievements.
The math problems came next, focused on geometry and trigonometry, and proved a real headache. I had to put energy into stimulating my brain to pull out all the necessary formulas.
I managed, even double-checking my work on the drafts. The answers matched and went down on the paper. Only the additional question on military technology remained.
Smirking, I gratefully recalled Vasily, who had slipped me a magazine about armor, because that's where I had seen the model in question—a light armored vehicle called YANK.
Resembling an ostrich, it had a crew of two—a driver and a commander-gunner, both of whom needed to be trained individuals with a resonance capacity of at least two thousand.
While it couldn't fly, the vehicle could travel at nearly 100 kilometers per hour over rough terrain, cross water obstacles up to two and a half meters deep, and carry both cannon and missile armament capable of destroying even the heaviest ground equipment.
After finishing the description, characteristics, and tactics for its use, I sketched the machine.
Sealing the yellow envelope, I carefully folded the sheets, added my documents and recommendations, and placed my pen, pencils, and ruler in a separate pouch. Only after securing everything did I look up.
Surprisingly, judging by the tense faces, I was one of the first to finish. Even those who had completed their work kept going back to it, rechecking themselves.
On the other hand, some desks were empty. Contestants couldn't leave early, so the only explanation was that students had been expelled for cheating. I had been so engrossed that I hadn’t even noticed.
Overall, I felt more intrigued than anxious about everything happening around me.
Yes, getting accepted was important, but I’d already given my best and didn’t see the point in stressing myself out further. Especially since I still had the "practical" part ahead. Instead of waiting idly, I immersed myself in meditation, channelling mana into all accessible chakras and connecting meridians.
"Attention, five minutes remaining," announced a military officer, pulling me out of meditation. "Prepare to submit your work."
He had to repeat himself three times, and even then, the examiners had to forcibly take some students’ envelopes. I could understand their desperation—this might be the most important moment of their lives.
Passing the exams wasn’t just a chance to achieve something significant but an opportunity to leap five ranks in the Table of Ranks and gain nobility.
But I wasn’t giving up, either. If my evaluation was correct, they would all secure decent jobs and futures. As for me, failing the exam could leave me on the streets without state support.
Who knows what might happen then? Perhaps the secret chancellery would take an interest in me, and I’d simply be killed. I wasn’t ready for open confrontation—not yet.
"Line up in columns of three!" ordered the officer after the last documents were collected, marching us to a small gym for the next test.
On the way, students discussed the questions and tasks they had faced, while I silently thanked fate for my short stature. Though I lagged at the back, I didn’t need to navigate—the others were too preoccupied with their worries to notice me. Only when the weight-based draw began in the gym did they remember my presence.
"I can’t put you against the girls," the examiner muttered after I stepped on the scale, which showed only fifty-five kilograms. "You’ll go into the lightweight category, but if I were you, I’d skip this test altogether. A good score on the written exam will get you into engineering."
"Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine," I replied with a smile. "If needed, you can even pit me against the big guys."
"Sometimes, it’s hard to distinguish bravery from foolishness," sighed the coach, pointing me to the right group. Admittedly, even among the lightweight category, I looked like a genuine twig.
One of the guys couldn’t resist making a joke about it, “When did this academy started accepting homeless applicants! Haha.”
"Someone’s going to get lucky with an easy first match," another boy sneered, slightly taller than me but with a defined, muscular build.
"Let’s hope it’s not you," I grinned while stretching my shoulders. But as luck would have it, he was my opponent.
A minute later, after the draw, we were already standing in a two-meter ring.