Chapter 100: The Mistakes That Defined Us

The first student shouted before the Mirage Hermit had even finished speaking.

"What was that?!"

Another voice immediately followed.

"Eight hours!"

"My arm got bitten off!"

"I died!"

"You were eaten," someone corrected from two rows away.

The student whipped around.

"THAT IS NOT BETTER!"

The orientation hall descended into chaos.

Questions came from every direction.

Students checked their arms, legs, faces, and stomachs as though they expected illusionary injuries to have followed them back into reality.

Others reached for classmates who had vanished during the examination, grabbing shoulders and sleeves just to confirm that they were actually there.

Someone near Class Three was crying.

Another student was laughing.

A Class Four boy repeatedly opened and closed his hand while muttering, "Still attached."

Headmaster Theoran Vale allowed the chaos to continue.

For approximately twenty seconds.

Then he struck the bottom of his cane against the stage.

Once.

The sound was not particularly loud.

Everyone became quiet anyway.

The Mirage Hermit looked vaguely disappointed.

"I preferred the shouting."

Theoran ignored him.

The students were still recovering.

Several continued touching injuries that no longer existed.

Others looked across the hall toward classmates who had been eliminated hours earlier.

Relief gradually replaced disbelief.

They were alive.

Everyone was.

Class Two’s three early eliminations sat several rows behind James, looking considerably less relieved than everyone else.

One of them, the boy eliminated near the armory while James had been fighting somewhere else, looked particularly displeased.

James noticed him.

His expression tightened.

He didn’t look away.

Good.

The Hermit noticed that too.

He seemed to notice everything.

Behind him, one hundred and eighty-seven translucent screens still floated across the hall.

They no longer showed individual perspectives.

Every screen displayed the same final image.

Five Guardian Seals.

A massive expanded ward.

Students, civilians, soldiers, wagons, and supplies crowded safely beneath it.

The Mirage Hermit turned toward the students.

"What was the objective?"

Several hands immediately rose.

He pointed toward a Class One student.

"Reach the Citadel before dawn."

"Wrong."

Confusion spread through the hall.

The student frowned.

"But the instructions literally said..."

"Reach the Citadel before dawn," the Hermit finished.

"Exactly."

"That was the instruction."

The Hermit clasped his hands behind his back.

"I asked what the objective was."

Silence.

A few hands slowly lowered.

Sophie raised hers.

The Hermit pointed toward her.

"Survive?"

"Closer."

She frowned thoughtfully.

Elizabeth did not bother raising her hand.

"Determine what we would do when the obvious solution became insufficient."

Several students turned toward her.

The Hermit did too.

Then he smiled.

"Much closer."

Theoran watched from the side of the stage.

This was the part the Hermit had refused to explain beforehand.

The actual examination.

Not the monsters.

Not the Guardian Seals.

Not even the Citadel.

The Hermit raised one hand.

Five of the screens enlarged.

Images began playing.

James fighting alone across the fortress walls.

Sophie standing in the forest while several classmates argued over directions.

Daphne carrying an absurd amount of mana crystal with Gravity.

Elizabeth reorganizing civilians according to what each person could contribute.

Alash kneeling beside a dying soldier while Cedric argued that the man was only an illusion.

All five leaders visibly became less comfortable.

Excellent.

"The five of you," the Hermit said, "were predictable."

James frowned.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.

Daphne looked mildly insulted.

Sophie looked embarrassed.

Alash looked tired.

The Hermit pointed toward James’s screen.

"You see a problem."

A monster appeared.

James killed it.

Another appeared.

James killed that one too.

A breach opened on another wall.

Space folded.

James appeared.

Problem solved.

"You solve it."

James crossed his arms.

"That sounds useful."

"It is."

The Hermit looked directly at him.

"Until thirty-seven people depend on knowing what you are doing."

The image changed.

A student waited for James.

Another abandoned a position expecting him to appear.

Then, one student vanished.

A second.

A third.

James’s expression changed.

The Hermit continued.

"Your strength allows you to answer problems faster than almost anyone in this year."

James said nothing.

"That became your excuse to answer all of them personally."

The screen showed Tristan confronting him.

Then James finally reorganizing the fortress.

Rotations.

Signals.

Reserves.

Delegation.

"Strength is useful," the Hermit said. "But a leader who must personally solve every problem eventually becomes the largest bottleneck in the group."

James’s jaw tightened.

For a few seconds, he looked as though he wanted to argue.

Then his eyes moved toward the three Class Two students sitting behind him.

He nodded.

Once.

The Hermit moved on.

Sophie.

The screen showed Class Three in the fog.

One student pointed left.

Another north.

Another suggested waiting.

Another wanted to split up.

Sophie listened to all of them.

And continued listening.

And continued listening.

The class walked in circles.

A few students laughed.

Sophie covered part of her face.

"Please skip this."

"No."

The hall laughed harder.

The Hermit looked at her.

"You listen."

Sophie lowered her hand.

"Usually."

"Too much."

Her weak smile disappeared.

"Leadership does not mean collecting opinions until everyone becomes satisfied with your decision."

The screen showed the moment one Class Three student was eliminated while Sophie hesitated.

The laughter stopped.

"Listening is a strength," the Hermit continued. "You notice people. You consider how your decisions affect them."

Sophie stared at the screen.

"But sometimes everyone will disagree with you."

The Hermit’s gaze settled on her.

"And you will still have to choose."

The image changed again.

Sophie at the observation tower.

The damaged bridge.

Class Five in the distance.

Her classmates suggesting they go directly to help.

Sophie refusing.

Then ordering them to repair the bridge instead.

No vote.

No extended discussion.

Just a decision.

The Hermit nodded faintly.

"You improved."

Sophie looked relieved.

"Thank you."

"Don’t become comfortable."

Her relief disappeared.

A few people laughed again.

Then, Daphne.

Hundreds of mana crystals floated around her.

Her breathing grew heavier.

Mana drained.

Students walked behind her.

Then Nadia appeared on-screen.

’Carts.’

Six of them.

Class Four immediately started laughing.

Daphne stared straight ahead.

The Hermit smiled faintly.

"You dislike dependence."

Daphne’s eyes sharpened.

"So?"

"So you nearly exhausted yourself transporting several tons of mana crystal because accepting assistance was less comfortable than wasting your own mana."

Nadia covered her mouth.

Lucan smiled.

Daphne slowly looked toward him.

His smile vanished.

Immediately.

The Hermit continued.

"Self-reliance is a strength."

Daphne looked back toward him.

"Until it becomes an excuse to reject useful people."

The screen changed.

The temple collapsed.

A student became trapped.

Mana crystals scattered.

Daphne chose the student.

Then later, Nadia caught Daphne when she nearly collapsed.

This time, Daphne didn’t pull away.

Other Class Four students operated the crystal network.

She let them.

"You do not become weaker because someone else can carry part of the weight."

Daphne remained silent.

But she didn’t look away.

The Hermit turned.

Elizabeth.

The atmosphere changed almost immediately.

The ruined capital appeared.

Civilians moved through the streets.

Elizabeth organized them rapidly.

Blacksmith.

Carpenter.

Former soldier.

Hunter.

Stable worker.

Everyone received a task.

Then Eren appeared.

Nine years old.

"I can help."

Elizabeth sent him toward the other children.

The hall became quieter.

"You measure people very quickly," the Hermit said.

Elizabeth remained composed.

"That is generally useful."

"Yes."

The Hermit smiled slightly.

"Which is why dangerous habits survive."

Her eyes narrowed.

The screen changed.

A blacksmith.

"You listened."

A hunter.

"You listened."

A former soldier.

"You listened."

Then Eren.

"You decided."

Silence.

Elizabeth didn’t defend herself.

The Hermit continued.

"You decided what he could contribute before hearing what he knew."

The screen showed Elizabeth searching maps.

Records.

Military documents.

Construction plans.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Then Eren returned.

’I know a way.’

The bakery.

The tunnel.

The final signal relay.

Elizabeth’s expression remained perfectly controlled, but James glanced toward her.

"You corrected the mistake," the Hermit said.

Then the image showed Elizabeth apologizing to Eren.

Not because he had become useful.

Because she had decided what he was before listening.

"Remember why you needed to."

Elizabeth gave a small nod.

Then, Alash.

The screen showed him kneeling beside a wounded soldier.

Cedric stood nearby.

’They’re illusions.’

Alash kept healing.

’Do you know they’re fake?’

’No, but...’

’Then I’m not gambling someone’s life on a guess.’

The hall became silent.

Alash stared at his own image.

He looked deeply uncomfortable.

The Hermit looked directly at him.

"You."

Alash sighed.

"Unfortunately."

Several students laughed.

The Hermit’s mouth moved slightly.

Almost a smile.

"You dislike responsibility."

"Strongly."

"Yet you collect it."

"I dispute that."

The screen changed.

One hundred and twenty-three wounded patients.

Class Five standing around them.

Orders.

Triage.

Stretchers.

Medicine.

Search groups.

The Hermit gestured toward the image.

"You began the examination responsible for thirty-six classmates."

"I remember."

"Within thirty minutes, you had somehow become responsible for one hundred and twenty-three wounded strangers as well."

"They were already there."

A few people laughed.

The Hermit ignored them.

"You then transported almost all of them."

"They couldn’t walk."

"You fought while protecting them."

"Monsters were inconvenient."

"You coordinated with four other classes."

"They had wagons."

More laughter.

Elizabeth covered the beginning of a smile.

The Hermit continued.

"And when the Citadel told you only one hundred people could enter, you rejected the choice."

"It was suspicious."

The Hermit stared at him.

Alash stared back.

"Very suspicious."

This time even James laughed.

The Mirage Hermit finally smiled.

"Your problem is different."

Alash’s expression immediately became wary.

The hall quieted again.

"You believe refusing leadership means you cannot be blamed for becoming a leader."

Something changed in Alash’s expression.

Barely.

Most students wouldn’t have noticed.

Penelope did.

Theoran did too.

The Hermit continued.

"You give orders when people are in danger."

The screen showed Alash ordering Class Five to search the infirmary.

"You organize when nobody else does."

Penelope coordinating the patients from Alash’s triage categories.

"You make decisions when delaying them would hurt someone."

Alash standing before the five-meter monster.

’Everyone behind me.’

Then, Roland.

’Take four people to sector three.’

’We’re already holding six monsters!’

’Hold them faster.’

Laughter spread briefly through the hall.

Even Roland laughed at the memory.

The Hermit waited until it faded.

"You accept responsibility while complaining about every inconvenience associated with it."

Alash said nothing.

Then the final image appeared.

Five leaders beneath five Guardian Seals.

Daphne warning that redirecting the Citadel ward could cause the entire defense to collapse.

Alash’s first response:

’Do it.’

Then Daphne:

’That’s your decision?’

A pause.

And finally...

’No.’

’Our decision.’

The hall was completely quiet.

The Hermit looked at Alash.

"Then, afterward, you tell yourself none of it counts because you never wanted the position."

Alash remained silent.

No joke.

No sarcastic answer.

Nothing.

The Hermit turned away from him.

"Wanting authority and accepting responsibility are different things."

Theoran’s eyes sharpened.

That sentence was worth remembering.

The Mirage Hermit walked toward the center of the stage.

Then stopped.

"All five leaders failed today."