“Camping and setting up a camp are the same thing.”
“No, they’re not!” Francis retorted. Even though I’ve been teasing him every night lately.
“Exus, do you understand? Setting up camp is really tough.”
“Huh, is that so?”
“Yes! You need to organize food and water for the supply units, and you need the strength to protect yourself. But if you increase the number of people to boost strength, the size of the supply units swells, defeating the purpose. Not to mention, you have to think about the morale of the soldiers, about women, luxuries, weapons—”
“Just use magic.”
“You’re the only one in the world who can do that!!!”
Well, she’s right.
So, anyways…
“Ta-da!”
I laid out some canned goods and retort pouches.
“Today, we’ll camp with provisions that last over a week. And during that, I’ll teach you useful survival magic you guys can actually use!”
“We don’t have time for that…”
Francis held his head in his hands.
“Listen! We only have six people! Everyone has to be efficient with guard duty and hunting. There’s no time for playing around—”
“Is there really none?”
“Well, maybe you have time, but the rest of us don’t!”
“Why are you so serious? Do you want the evaluation points that badly?”
“The evaluator for this practical is that Professor Kuljes!”
Ahh?
Oh, right, him.
War-crazy Lord Kuljes.
The former head of the Kuljes family, a robe-wearing noble without land, and an unmatched strategist…
An old retired guy, but one of the few people in this academy you can genuinely respect.
He’s also one of the most feared and strict teachers, on par with Goat from the arithmetic department.
“I see. If that old man is grading us, we can’t slack off too much.”
“Exactly!”
“But I’m still going to hold the survival magic class. If anything, the old man will give us extra points for it.”
“Ugh!”
Time to check the schedule.
Day one goes like this:
We gather in the school building at the sound of two bells (around 7 a.m.?) with our gear. You’re responsible for bringing your own stuff, and you’ll lose points if it’s incomplete. But if it’s not a glaring issue, they apparently “deliberately” let it slide.
At the sound of one bell in the afternoon (around noon), we set out.
The plan is to move to a forest about 20 kilometers away, assuming it’s a battlefield.
…Of course, there’s no way a bunch of 12-year-olds can walk 20 kilometers in half a day.
Obviously, we’ll be camping in the plains along the way.
Though this world may be ‘Nauropa,’ it’s still pretty harsh.
In the grasslands, where the grass reaches up to an adult’s waist, there’s barely any path to speak of.
Walking on an unpaved road is exhausting and dangerous. And the danger isn’t just about the difficulty of walking on a rough road.
While it sounds charming to call it ‘overflowing with nature,’ in reality, nature is no place for humans to live.
From that tall greenery, you’ll find poisonous insects, venomous snakes—anything goes. And, of course, mosquitoes carrying malaria show up too.
Not only that, but wolves who have developed a taste for human flesh, goblins, and other monsters will also come out. And don’t forget the bandits. Some of the wild animals even carry rabies.
Since there aren’t any aristocrats willing to spend money to maintain the roads, the roads are practically lawless. You should assume it’s worse than Johannesburg. Because here, the beasts will actually attack…
The swamps are unsanitary, full of who-knows-what diseases, and there are also unique fantasy-world hazards like treacherous terrains or living traps.
Wander off the path, and getting lost and stranded in the wilderness isn’t just a possibility—it’s almost guaranteed.
In this era, traveling is literally a matter of life and death.
…Well, I can fly if I feel like it, so none of this really bothers me.
Anyway, back on track.
The second day of the practical:
We’ll likely end up camping in the dangerous grasslands.
After finishing the camp, we’ll head back into the forest.
The forest is even more dangerous than the plains.
There are even more powerful wild beasts and monsters lurking in the forest, which is much richer in resources than the plains.
Grizzlies, cougars, honey badgers, coyotes—anything goes.
While fighting off those threats, we’ll keep camping and continue onward.
We’re expected to make it through the forest in under ten days.
And of course, there won’t be any compasses.
…You think it’s impossible, right?
Exactly! It is impossible!
No matter how you slice it, forcing a bunch of 12-year-olds through such a harsh journey, even if they’re mages, is just ridiculous!
This practical exam seems like some sort of ritual to whip these cocky kids into shape.
Remember that one manga? The one where they bully you until you’re nice and obedient, and then finally offer you a kind hand with a “you’re human, after all.” Basically, brainwashing.
Well, at least this country, dumb as it is, isn’t completely brainless.
They sell their power through military might, so they know how to control it.
Sure, it’s a brutal sports club/black company style of training, but it’s effective.
Noble families known for their military prowess, like Francis’ household, have been rigorously training their children even before they enroll, so they manage to cope, surprisingly enough.
Honestly, it seems this whole practical is about filtering out and disciplining “weak noble or commoner mages who just got lucky” and “bratty, spoiled noble kids” like me.
They push you through an impossible practical, wear you down until you think, “I can’t take this anymore!” Then, the supervising teachers, seniors, or soldiers swoop in and escort you out.
And just like that, you start showing respect to your seniors and teachers.
But frankly, I couldn’t care less about any of that.
I won’t bother with lectures on how ruling through fear only leads to ruin—because I don’t care.
Right now, my head is filled with thoughts about camping.
