The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 74

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Academy Weapon Duplicator Episode 74
Chapter 22: Final Exam (3)
Binkiss noticed something was off only after Frontdier had toppled three more golems.
‘……He knows for sure.’
The last attack from Frontdier had confirmed it.
Frontdier knew exactly where the core of each golem was located.
Binkiss had positioned the core differently in every golem she created.
Typically in the head or chest, but the core itself was small relative to the golem’s size. Even if the core was in the head and an enemy struck there, the core was so diminutive that a miss was far more likely than a hit.
Yet Frontdier destroyed most of the golems in a single blow. A few required additional strikes, but every one of them was clearly aimed at the core.
It was remarkable enough that he could pierce a golem’s solid metal in one motion, but knowing the core’s location with such precision bordered on the supernatural—as if he could see through to the inside.
[Frontdier! You know where the cores are, don’t you?]
Binkiss called out to him. She intended to buy time and reorganize the golems’ formation. Frontdier would get a chance to rest in the meantime, so the advantage was mutual.
“It’s not just the location of the core that I know.”
But Frontdier said something peculiar.
Depending on how you heard it, it was rather unsettling.
[Then what else do you know?]
At that question, Frontdier looked toward the golem. Through the golem’s eyes—which served as her screen—Binkiss felt as though his gaze were directed at her.
“I know your location as well, Professor.”
……?!
Binkiss’s shoulders flinched.
Of course, Binkiss was somewhere within the Field. To remotely control multiple golems, she had to remain within a certain range.
But knowing her position just by observing the golems made no sense. Even the teachers at Constellation Academy wouldn’t be capable of such a thing.
If anyone could manage it, it would be Frontdier……?
“I was joking. How could I possibly know that?”
[This bastard.]
A golem swung its spear with a whoosh. Frontdier dodged and created distance.
‘His skill really has improved.’
Binkiss collected data from the golems Frontdier had destroyed, gaining a rough understanding of how each had been cut down.
The visual information captured by the golems’ eyes—by studying that footage, she could gauge Frontdier’s ability.
At that time, he had been barely a novice just beginning combat. He’d managed to fell the golems through quick thinking and ingenuity, and the weapon’s power—not raw skill.
But now, Frontdier had unmistakably grown. In such a short span of time.
‘His technique has improved, his responses have sharpened. He must have had a good instructor helping him build his strength. But more important than that is……’
Composure.
The judgment that only those who have faced stronger opponents and overcome crisis possess.
Frontdier already had all of it.
“But there is a way to find out.”
Frontdier spoke.
[A way? What kind of way?]
“A method to locate where you are, Professor.”
Saying so, Frontdier raised one hand.
Threads of magical power wove together in his palm, and an arrow materialized in the empty air.
She’d watched this happen many times now, but the principle still eluded her. She’d never seen magic like this before.
‘A unique skill…… or perhaps Divine Power.’
How had he managed to hide something like this all this time? If it were her, she’d have been bursting to show it off.
Yet Frontdier aimed the arrow upward into the sky.
“Professor, are you familiar with the term ‘Fireworks’?”
[……What?]
Immediately after, the arrow was loosed toward the heavens.
Mid-flight, it fractured into dozens, hundreds of fragments, spreading like a river of stars, before raining down upon the ground like bolts of lightning.
A deafening roar like a torrential downpour. The sight was unmistakably familiar—Binkiss had seen it before.
‘Fireworks! It really was Frontdier!’
The massive monster assault on Constellation Academy.
The legendary technique that had repelled the attack and annihilated the fleeing monsters was unfolding before her eyes.
Of course, there had always been suspicion that Frontdier might be the true master of this technique. He’d been nowhere to be seen during the attack, and before that there was the incident where he’d set a new record in the private training chamber.
But no one had truly believed it.
Surely not that Frontdier.
[……Well, it’s certainly impressive. But how does that help you find me?]
“In case you’re unaware, Fireworks can track its intended target with perfect precision.”
At those words, Binkiss recalled: all the monsters struck by Fireworks had been hit in vital spots—the head, the heart—places that guaranteed death.
That he had aimed hundreds of arrows individually at such critical points seemed logically impossible. And judging from the direction Fireworks had come from, the range had been extraordinarily vast.
In other words, every arrow from Fireworks is “homing.”
“And unfortunately, I don’t know how to hit anything less than dead-center. That’s simply what these arrows do.”
Binkiss’s face went pale at those words.
Binkiss was no ordinary person either. Regardless of how close her work skewed toward research, she herself was a capable mage and summoner. Against most attacks, she could mount a defense even without golems deployed—but.
—Stopping a simultaneous volley of countless arrows, each homing in on her vital points, was a tactic she couldn’t devise in the moment. Whether a barrier could even block arrows that killed monsters indiscriminately was uncertain.
[You—are you threatening me? You’re a student and I’m a teacher!]
“I wouldn’t say that. Right now, I’m a ‘provisional professional’ here to rescue victims from monsters, and you’re playing the role of the monster, aren’t you?”
This was what the teachers had hammered into the students during the Final Exam. Anyone who believed their instructor would go easy on them would be devoured.
Abandon half-hearted resolve and engage seriously. Frontdier was simply returning their own lesson.
Of course, naturally, she’d thought a student could never defeat a teacher. She’d even rigged the matchup to be maximally unfavorable—for everyone but Frontdier.
Everyone except Frontdier alone.
Excluding Frontdier, about whom there was no data whatsoever, and whom everyone had underestimated.
[You—you! If you really do that, this won’t end well! Don’t you remember the midterm? The drone is recording you in real time right now! If you actually cause casualties, then—]
“Oh, about that—let me show you something, would you?”
[……Huh?]
Binkiss peered at the screen showing Frontdier. Frontdier pointed at something with his finger.
There, the drone that was still filming Frontdier continued its steady flight.
So what if it was?
“It looks identical, doesn’t it? I swapped it for a fake.”
[……?!]
“I mean, I heard the full story of how that guy Renzo broke in during the midterm. Thought it was a pretty good idea, actually.”
[?? ……?!]
Binkiss went ashen, unable to speak, her lips moving soundlessly. The sound of her ragged breathing and a swallow like a hiccup reached the microphone embedded in the golem instead of her voice.
Binkiss looked back at Frontdier.
The Frontdier on the screen was simply smiling, pale and wide.
From that crescent-moon-like mouth, eerie and thin, came the same voice as before.
“So, where are you, teacher?”
* * *
……Yeah, well.
Naturally, most of it was a lie.
First of all, Fireworks doesn’t function on arrows alone.
It’s completed by the combination of the bow Crisellacatos and the arrows Iokeira, but just now I only fired the arrows.
That is, I can mimic the ‘appearance’ of splitting and raining down like a storm, but those arrows don’t actually have any homing function that lets them track and hit every single one of the opponent’s vital points.
So why didn’t I use the bow? Because even if I did, the tracking wouldn’t work.
This bow’s near-mystical tracking function requires one condition: I have to see the target directly with my own eyes. There’s no way to hit an enemy whose location I don’t even know, like Binkiss.
But only I know this fact.
The bluff should work just fine.
And swapping out the drone was also a lie.
I did genuinely think it was a brilliant idea. It’s a method that fits perfectly with my skill, Weaving.
But because this Final Exam requires me to prove my worth to Ampere.
I won’t keep hiding like I have been.
[You—hey, you—are you really going to shoot?]
Yeah.
The bluff had worked perfectly.
“Do you need time to prepare yourself? Then I’ll count to three,”
[Hey! Hey!! Hey!!!]
It was almost a shriek.
She really does seem terrified of me. Strange feeling, that. Not like I’m actually trying to hit her.
It was fortunate that Binkiss didn’t know much about me. If my opponent had been Jane instead, this bluff might not have worked.
But now that we’re here, let’s push it a little further.
I need a proper reason to target her—something more than just being a madman.
“Actually, I know something.”
[What, what is it?]
“This test—you’re deceiving the students, aren’t you?”
[……!]
Binkiss fell silent.
Under normal circumstances, she would have immediately denied it shamelessly, but her mental state seemed to be shaken quite a bit.
[What, what are you talking about?]
So she’s still trying to deny it anyway. Right.
“From the start, you meant to plant defeat in the students’ minds, didn’t you? All that about ‘whoever handles the most incidents ranks first’—that’s a lie.”
Ah, wait—actually, if I resolve the alerts sequentially,
Crack! Crunch-crunch-crunch!
I drove my spear repeatedly into the golem.
By the time of this exam, my practice with Weaving had increased my simultaneous Weaving to four. Combined with the experience from defeating the chimera before, growth came quickly.
Of course, Binkiss’s golems are durable, but the Imperial Armory surpasses that level entirely. Money triumphs over all, as they say.
I left the fallen golem behind and walked toward another nearby.
“Hey! Do you know how much all this costs? The cores are already completely shattered—I can’t even repair them!”
“If that bothers you, perhaps we should have a more honest conversation.”
The practical portion of this Final Exam is designed for first-year students to fail.
This is knowledge I possessed beforehand.
And truthfully, on my own account, I harbor no real resentment toward this approach.
Actually, facing real monsters outside brings far greater despair. If you experience a lighter failure beforehand, when the actual situation arrives, confusion lessens and you can respond. You gain the footing to rise again from there, naturally.
But that’s beside the point.
From the position of already knowing, the taste is frankly sour.
And there’s nothing quite like this to give my actions proper persuasive weight with Binkiss.
“You may not realize it, but I’m quite angry.”
Of course, this is a lie.
“Angry, you say?”
“Not just at me, but at the fact that the students are giving their all to a practical exam they’re destined to fail. From someone who already knows, it leaves a bitter taste.”
This part held some truth.
Why would upperclassmen be scouted and swear revenge? They’ve already tasted despair once, and they’re rising from it.
Yet there’s never been a record of anyone winning this ‘exam designed to be lost.’ From the perspective of upperclassmen who’ve endured that despair once, this system hardly seems just.
Destined to lose. To me, it feels like the foundational premise of the game Ethius itself.
“This practical exam was a ‘miniature version of the Professional Exam.'”
And to me, this practical is likewise a miniature version of Ethius.
Failure is unbearable, and defeat makes my skin crawl.
“I must win this practical, by force if necessary.”
I drew another arrow again, ready to fire the luminous shaft at any moment.
“If you won’t tell me the locations, that’s fine too. The result will be the same regardless.”
“Ah, fine. I lost. I’ll tell you. As for this place—”
“It’s already too late.”
“Wait, wait! Wait just a second! I’m telling you, I’ll tell you! Do you really have to kill me? I get that you’re angry about the exam, but I didn’t create this! Come on!”
A fair point. Binkiss contributed nothing to this system. If anything, her only fault is maintaining the secret.
I kept my stern expression and spoke.
“True. Actually, your location doesn’t matter much. I’m not really going to kill you. Tell me about the others instead.”
“The… others?”
“Yes. The other instructors. All their positions.”
“……I don’t know?”
“I’ll count to three.”
“No, really I don’t know! This time I really don’t!”
“Don’t lie. The alerts sounded simultaneously. You assessed the students’ team formations and positioned the teachers accordingly. How could you not know each other’s locations?”
A groan.
“Three, two, one—”
“Ugh, fine! Fine, I get it! You students are so impatient.”
“When someone’s in danger, speed is essential.”
“You really won’t let up, will you!”
And so.
I successfully completed the first alert. And I’d gained valuable information in the bargain.
Part of me felt like I was becoming a villain, but what was done was done.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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