The sight of the "Floor 0" label had clearly struck a nerve.
Arthur was grumbling about wanting to give me a smack, Joy was complaining if it was really necessary, and Frey pouted, calling it "just plain evil."
As for Faivy...well, she didn’t have much reaction.
Not surprising, really. Faivy tends to believe that anything I do has a purpose, so why would she be upset over a slightly extended dungeon?
She’d probably say something like, “I’m grateful for the chance to explore the dungeon longer, Lady Alrn,” and it wouldn’t even be surprising.
By now, it’s probably obvious to everyone that labeling it "Floor 0" was a completely intentional choice.
I could have easily used "Floor 5" or "Room 5" since they’d already cleared the previous four rooms, but calling it "Floor 0" had a purpose.
Of course, the purpose was to annoy them.
When anyone realizes that all their efforts so far seem meaningless, it’s bound to make them angry.
And when they later discover that all their struggles weren’t actually in vain, they’ll feel just as much joy as they did frustration.
Hmph. Just imagining their reactions brings a smile to my face.
It’s almost disappointing that I won’t get to witness that moment myself.
<Child.>
As I was heading back to the dorms, pleased that my plan was coming together, my old master suddenly called out to me.
“Yes?”
<Were you seriously going to let him smack you?>
“You mean the Third Prince? Yes, I was.”
After all, even if Arthur were to hit me with all his strength, it wouldn’t hurt that much.
If that’s the price for hearing his impressions, I can bear it.
Though, in the end, Arthur chickened out, and I missed the chance to get that smack.
I’m not exactly the type to seek revenge over something so small.
But I wonder, just how vicious am I in Arthur’s mind?
<Haaah.>
When I tilted my head, puzzled, my old master let out a deep, exasperated sigh.
<Child, you need to make it a habit to consider the consequences of your actions before you act.>
“...Excuse me? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
Did I do something wrong?
As far as I could recall, I hadn’t done anything that should cause trouble.
Or could it be that?
“Grandfather, even if Arthur hits me, it won’t hurt me.”
He may have gotten stronger, but he’s not at the level where he can actually injure me.
Even if he envelops his fist in aura, I can block it with divine energy, so I’d be fine.
I’d probably be more worried about Arthur hurting his own hand.
<That’s not the point!... Never mind. It’s not really your fault. If we’re assigning blame, it’s probably Benedict’s.>
Benedict’s fault? For what?
I tilted my head, completely lost, but my old master didn’t offer any further explanation.
“Grandfather! It really annoys me when you treat me like a little kid!”
That whole "you don’t need to know" attitude is seriously irritating from my perspective!
I tried to make my frustration clear, but he merely chuckled.
<I’m treating you like a kid because you are one.>
Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.
“Huh? What part of me seems like a kid to you?!”
<Inside and out, you’re young, child. If you’re not a kid, then what are you?>
Out... okay, fine, I look like a kid on the outside. But not on the inside! You’d better correct yourself while I’m being polite!
Otherwise, I won’t just sit back!
<And this quickness to get riled up is exactly why you’re a kid.>
The next day, after Ruel, the lovestruck fox, was punished by being ignored for his earlier taunts toward Lucy, Arthur’s party clearing the fourth room served as a catalyst.
Soon, the other leading groups began clearing the fourth room in their own ways.
Of all the methods, the most absurd was the party of the second son of the Ruvi family. They’d failed to control their strength and ended up team-killing each other, accidentally clearing the fourth room that way.
Watching this, Professor Jesel of the Dungeon Studies Department seriously questioned whether they should even be allowed to graduate, though this wasn’t exactly important information.
Upon descending the stairs to the basement after clearing the fourth room, challengers found that the layout and nature of the dungeon on the first floor were completely different.
The previous rooms were less about dungeon crawling and more about testing one’s skill at deciphering gimmicks, but the dungeon itself was different.
It required the ability to navigate its corridors.
The skill to face the many monsters lurking within.
And, on top of that, the capacity to handle the countless traps strewn throughout.
The mansion’s basement dungeon was a place that tested not only one’s ability to discern gimmicks but also their aptitude for true dungeon exploration.
Ordinarily, this shift would give an advantage to upperclassmen’s parties.
Higher grades usually have more basic experience with dungeons, after all.
But that wasn’t the case with this final exam.
With each passing grade, the difficulty of the dungeon increased dramatically, so both underclassmen and upperclassmen were complaining about the hellish difficulty.
Rumors circulated among the exam participants, questioning whether the penalties by grade were too severe.
Arthur’s team clearing the first floor added fuel to this discussion.
People began to question if it was fair for first-years to set records, surpassing the many notable names in the leading groups.
“The Second Prince and the second son of Ruvi’s family are both struggling on the first floor, yet first-years cleared it?”
“No matter how skilled they are, this seems off.”
“But Lady Alrn is a first-year too, right? That probably gives them an edge.”
“So is the outcome practically predetermined, then?”
As voices grew louder with frustration over failing the first floor, it was Cecile’s party that quieted them.
Cecile’s team quickly caught up with Arthur’s and claimed the lead by being the first to clear the second floor.
“Ridiculous. Don’t blame the dungeon for your lack of skill.”
Cecile’s blunt words silenced much of the talk about grade-based unfairness.
Additionally, most of the front-runners were second- or third-years, which quelled the controversy further.
The only two first-year teams in the race were Arthur’s and Avery’s.
Few other first-years had even reached Floor 0.
“They’re just exceptional people.”
This opinion became the general consensus, and those who continued to cry about grade discrimination were dismissed as fools, quelling the forced controversy.
Among the Dungeon Studies participants, another incident began brewing.
“Aaargh! Seriously!”
“I really want to punch her! Or give her a lecture!”
“This is why I didn’t want to look at the hints!”
“Lucy Allen!”
The second hint had enraged more students, and they began to unite with a single purpose: to get back at Lucy.
Ignoring exam scores or placements, they pooled their knowledge and strategies, determined to clear the dungeon just to teach Lucy a lesson.
Their combined rage was evident as more students were disqualified for cheating, unwilling to stop despite the consequences.
As the final exam entered Day 4, many dropped out of the competition.
Most succumbed to exhaustion.
They had spent three days grinding through the dungeon while preparing for other final exams.
What they thought would be a one- or two-day ordeal dragged on, and the physical toll forced some to withdraw.
Among those who dropped out was Avery’s party.
Though they’d made waves among the upperclassmen, Avery’s team was ultimately relying too much on Tobi’s talent.
Unable to keep up with the other leading teams, Avery finally declared she’d had enough and took a break, effectively dropping from the race.
By the end of Day 4, it was widely accepted that the first clear would come from one of three parties:
The top parties of each grade.
The first-year Arthur’s party.
The second-year Cecile’s party.
The third-year Kurten’s party.
Even as others gave up, these three groups continued their fierce competition, surpassing one another as they broke through to the fourth floor by the end of Day 4, dashing the hopes of most challengers.
As Day 5 of the Academy’s final exams dawned, with only three days left, attitudes toward the Dungeon Studies exam divided into three camps:
“Let’s just pass without failing, since we won’t make it to the end anyway.”
“I have other exams to worry about; I can’t waste more time here.”
“Forget this; I’m quitting.”
These were the students who avoided the dungeon, aiming to either barely pass or earn a reasonable grade.
“I’ve come this far; I should see it through.”
“I won’t let Lucy mock me.”
“I wonder how far I need to go to make it into the top ranks.”
Some couldn’t stand the thought of wasted effort or wanted to best Lucy, or they aimed for a high score and were determined to finish the dungeon.
And then there were the last group—the bitter failures.
“Lucy Allen. Has she even tried clearing this dungeon?”
“Probably not. She probably made it hard just to torment people and laugh at us.”
“She probably didn’t even design it.”
“Hah. She was just an obnoxious brat a year ago.”
“God, I hate her.”
“Why should I fail just because of her?”
“These hints are as insufferable as she is.”
These were the students who’d given up everything for the Dungeon Studies exam, only to be beaten out of the competition.
They’d failed both the final exam and their chance at the first clear rewards.
Anyone else might tell them that it was their own foolish choices that brought them here, but with this group, there was no room for self-awareness.
And it didn’t stop there.
Combined with their mutual stupidity, these sore losers devised an even more idiotic plan, one that lacked any semblance of caution.
“Hey, how about we humiliate Lucy Allen instead?”
“How?”
“Since she designed this dungeon, let’s challenge her to clear it herself.”
“...Isn’t she good at dungeon crawling, though?”
“Idiot. Don’t you get it? Those top three parties have been stuck on Floor 5 all day. She never intended for anyone to clear it.”
“True. If the top teams haven’t cleared it yet, that’s suspicious.”
“Maybe she didn’t even prepare a reward?”
“That would make her an absolute monster.”
“Whatever. We’re just confirming it. As long as we do it by the book, it shouldn’t backfire on us.”
“Yeah. If she clears it, fine. But if she can’t, then we win.”
The idiots, convinced that Lucy Allen was out to ruin them, devised a plan to humiliate her.
Ironically, it was a plan Lucy Allen herself would likely find the most delightful.