Next up was the written exam. This took place in the mess hall of the barracks; a large complex of buildings arranged into a square. They were built primarily from wood, though the outer walls were all made from cobblestone. The mess hall itself was a big open room full of long tables and a fireplace so large it could easily fit five men inside.

This time there were five supervisors in total, two of which wore cloaks that indicated their status as active knights. One was an enormous man that looked a bit like a bear with a bushy black beard, though the effect was ruined slightly by the tiny pair of spectacles balanced on the end of his nose. The other was a woman similar in age to the bear man; though she had some greying hairs beginning to peek out by her temples, she carried a stout and powerful atmosphere about her. The remaining supervisors looked like aides or secretaries; likely there to assist in scoring the exams.

We were told to sit at separate tables, then given a large stack of blank paper and a questionnaire sheet.

“Your exam has twenty questions, each worth five points. You have one hour to complete the exam, after which we will mark them and give you your scores. You may not leave your seat until the hour is up. If you need something, raise your hand. Ink and pens have been provided. Cheating of any kind will result in a zero. Is that clear?”

We all nodded.

“Good. You may begin now.”

I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and turned the question sheet over. It almost felt like I was back in university in my old life, only this time I barely had any resources to study from. I had done my best, but I had to start by learning how to read and write in this world’s language. After quizzing my family and mentors on all they knew about laws and knighthood, I wrote down everything I could remember about the game, from its branching routes to its lore. It was surprisingly easy; I had very clear memories of it, mainly due to how angry it made me when I played it. Fortunately that anger was helping me now.

As I skimmed over the questions, my confidence began to grow. They were open ended; instead of asking about specific laws and etiquette of knighthood, the questions seemed more interested in revealing who I was as a person rather than what factual information I knew. A slow grin stretched across my face: I knew exactly what they were looking for, and I also knew exactly how to appeal to them. The knowledge of the future ran through my head; I had to remember exactly who I was applying to work for. Lord Rhinestadt was anything but a noble, honest man, and he cared nothing for a knight’s ‘honor’. No, what he was looking for was smart, silent soldiers he could dress up fancy while also having them do his dirty work. Honor wasn’t the right answer in these questions; loyalty was, and I would prove to him and the knights marking my test that mine was unquestioning. At least, that’s what I wanted them to believe.

I finished my test ten minutes before the time limit, after which I wasted my time people watching. The commoner was struggling again, but at least the poor guy knew how to write. Miss Beet Barbie seemed relatively confident, though also a bit disappointed; I imagine she had wasted hours memorizing historical dates and laws in order to prepare, only to realize it was all useless.

Once the hour was up, our papers were gathered up and marked, which didn’t take very long. The female knight cleared her throat and announced the results.

“Listen up! Here are your scores.”

Beet Barbie gave me a satisfied smirk as she began reading off the numbers.

“Number nine, you scored a fifty-two. Number ten scored a seventeen. Number eleven scored a sixty five, while number thirteen scored a thirty seven.”

Watching the others’ reactions was beautiful. The commoner boy had an elated expression at finally scoring his first points, while Beet Barbie had an expression of utter shock on her face. She seemed to be having difficulty processing the fact that she got a seventeen despite scoring so well on the first trial. But the knight wasn’t done.

“Lastly, number twelve. Though your handwriting is absolutely dreadful, you nonetheless scored a ninety-two on your test. Congratulations.”

I blinked, now it was my turn to doubt my ears. Ninety-two?! I had confidence in my answers, but I never expected a result like that. Neither did Beet Barbie.

“How is that possible?! How could a lowly commoner score higher than me?!! I studied for weeks!!” she screamed. The knight narrowed her eyes.

“You can ask her what her answers were later. In the meantime, I suggest you shut your mouth or risk disqualification. We have no room for whiners here.”

That shut her up surprisingly quickly, but I couldn’t help but sidle up to her and whisper, “Don’t worry, perhaps there was something wrong with your pen. Make sure the nib is secured properly next time.”

I received another delightful glare of fury in response before she flounced away.

I couldn’t stop another grin, as the anxiety within me lessened. I had a total of one hundred and twenty eight points; I only needed seventy-two more to reach the tournament. Things were beginning to look up.

It was noon by the time we reached the third trial, horseback riding. I was feeling confident, both with my score and the trial ahead. I felt comfortable around horses, unlike the other poor street commoner; he had an expression of absolute terror on his face.

Our supervisor this time was a tall, thin, effeminate looking man. He could have easily passed for a tall woman if he wanted to; the me in my past life would've been jealous. Unlike the previous knights, he welcomed us with a big smile.

"Welcome, welcome! This is the horseback trial, where you will get to ride atop a magnificent warhorse! The rules are rather straightforward. You ride your horse through our fancy little obstacle course, and we time you! Simple, no? Of course, there may be one or two hindrances along the way, but I'm sure you'll manage fine. Now let's get started!!"

I took a deep breath and stepped towards the offered hose. I could do this.

I couldn't do it.

Not only did the horse express extreme displeasure towards me (even the horses hated commoners here), from the moment I climbed into the saddle, I spent the entire time desperately clinging on for dear life. No matter how I tugged the reins or yelled, the horse did its own thing. The only reason why I even managed to get halfway through the course was thanks to the other contestants: after they took off, the horse begrudgingly followed behind, seemingly unwilling to be left behind but not interested enough to race them. That is, until he got distracted by a suspiciously placed giant pile of hay.

Of course, Beet Barbie had no issues at all; she seemed to be enjoying herself as she raced through the obstacles at top speed, dodging ropes, leaping over ponds, and having a grand old time. Figures that the face of Barbie Saddle And Ride Adventure Set™ would have an easy time on a horse; she was like a perfect protagonist character. If this was a shounen anime, I would be the arrogant bitter rival, fated to lose at the critical moment. It was a good thing then, that I didn’t believe in fate.

Beet Barbie boasted as much as she could, sneering and giggling at my failure like her life depended on it. I acted like the mature, responsible adult I was (on the inside) and made various faces at her behind her back. Unfortunately, we didn’t have much time to rib each other before we were given our scores and sent on to the final challenge.

Beet Barbie had scored a whopping 95 points on the horse challenge, bringing her total to 184. I gained none, leaving my score at 128; I had a lot of ground to make up if I wanted to get into the final tournament. The poor other commoner was practically eliminated with this round; like me he gained nothing, but he had no reserve of points to rely on. As for the two noble boys, their scores sat at 162 and 122 respectively, meaning that any of us could still win in this last trial and surpass two hundred points.

The course was similar to the horse challenge, in that it was filled with obstacles. Mud pits, walls, ponds and jungle gyms littered the grounds, with a series of flags laying out where to go.

The sergeant from before greeted us when we arrived; his gruff, impatient nature seemed to have only worsened since last we’d seen him. The rules were simple; complete the obstacle course with the fastest time, and you would earn the most points. Or so he claimed; considering that all the other trials had had a hidden trick to them, I had no doubt this would be the same.

Hearts racing in our chests, we lined up next to each other at the starting point. The boys were finally starting to take this seriously; perhaps the realization that a commoner had gotten this far had shaken them up. Meanwhile Beet Barbie betrayed no anxiety at all; her eyes were determined and focused with a drive that I could admire. I didn’t know her circumstances, but I had the feeling she had something pushing her forward just like me. For the first time since I met her I felt a sense of empathy; that she was just like me. But it wouldn’t stop me from throwing her under the proverbial bus if I had to.

*BANG*

The starting pistol went off with a bang, sending us all leaping forward. The first part of the race was a flat field, which gave me an immediate advantage - my legs were longer than anyone else’s, and they quickly gave me the lead all the way to the first obstacle; a wire mesh laid just above the ground: the classic army crawl.

I turned my sprint into a dive, ignoring the mess it would make of my shirt. Unfortunately the ground had more friction than I thought, and my dive became more of an awkward flop. Beet Barbie immediately took advantage of this, diving under the mesh far more gracefully and scurrying forward like a mouse. I hurried after her like the giant lumbering tomcat I was, but it was already too late; my lead was lost.

Beet Barbie cleared the end of the army crawl and leapt to her feet, racing towards the next obstacle. One of the noble boys also managed to surge ahead before I finally cleared the crawl myself; my body was not built for tight and narrow movements, even though I was only twelve years old. I could already tell puberty was going to be a wild ride.

The next obstacle was still fairly simple; it was just a set of monkey bars over a mud pit that Beet Barbie was already halfway across. I raced forward to catch up, only to find myself stuck behind the boy that got ahead. He had gotten himself up onto the bars, but it was clear he had never used them before; he was dangling from the second bar and awkwardly stretching out his arm to reach the third.

“Get a move on!” I shouted, frustrated by the block he was causing. The bars were too narrow to squeeze past him, and I could see Beet Barbie getting away just past him.

“Silence commoner!!” he shrieked ungracefully, his legs kicking helplessly in the air.

I didn’t have time for this stupidity. Reaching up I grabbed the first bar and hauled myself up. With just a bit of effort I pulled myself above the bars.

“Hey! That’s cheating!!” screamed the boy, but I was already running over him, carefully balancing on the thin bars as I went. I didn’t even hesitate when I reached the end; jumping down, I broke my fall with a roll and transitioned it back into a sprint, leaving behind the screaming of the boy behind me.

I had a lot of ground to make up for, but the next stretch was again in my favour; a large field, followed by an enormous mud pit. My physical training of the last two years was starting to pay off, as I broke into an open sprint. The ground rushed past me as I caught up to Beet Barbie, who was standing at the edge of the mud pit like she was trying to figure out how to cross it. I politely demonstrated it for her by diving head first into the pit, splashing an enormous wave of muddy water behind me. Now she didn’t have to worry about dirtying her fancy clothes anymore....

The mud pit was deep, and the water was filthy. I had practiced some swimming, but it was hardly professional; all I could do was flail about in a vague imitation of a butterfly, and hope that it was working. I couldn’t hear the shrieks of the Beet Barbie anymore as the water rushed through my ears, covering me in mud and thoroughly ruining my clothes. But that didn’t matter; nothing mattered except winning this race.

Soon I found my feet finding purchase on the slippery mud as I came to the far end of the mud pit. I pulled myself free of the mud, and looked up to see the final obstacle. A series of posts were laid out before me, all at different heights and spaced fairly close together. Horizontal cross-bars were attached to each post at different heights, creating a maze of wooden bars to navigate through. It looked a bit like a stereotypical training arena from a kung fu action movie, except these posts were all spinning, making navigation through the course much more difficult.

I stepped forward, readying myself for the challenge. The first few posts were easy to dodge; they were slow moving enough that I was able to wriggle my way through. I could do thi-

*THWACK*

Suddenly I was swept to my buttocks, just in time for a very filthy Beet Barbie to burst into laughter as she arrived.

“Hahaha! You look like a filthy rat trapped in a cage, Carrot Top!”

“Not that you’re any better!” I yelled back as I clambered to my feet, only for another log to smack me back to the ground.

Beet Barbie smirked. “Hardly. You should just give up now, commoner! Save what little you have left of your dignity.”

With a confidence that almost frightened me, the girl stepped into the maze of swinging bats and poles. Like an elegant dancer she moved between them, squeezing her body through the narrowest of gaps. Her progress was quick; far quicker than I could manage, and she wasn’t getting hit at all. Anxiety surged within me as I watched her move with such elegance. If I couldn’t catch up to her then that was it - my life’s purpose, dashed. But I simply didn’t have the body nor movement that she did; I was trapped, like a caged bear.

Finding a gap between the posts that was clear, I pulled myself back up to my feet again. I could see the other competitors gaining on me, and the girl was getting away.

Come on Freya... Think… THINK!

But nothing came; no clever tricks or schemes that I could use to weasel my way out of this one. I would just have to try.

I stepped back into the forest of spinning posts, receiving a whack on my shoulder for my troubles. Gritting my teeth, I ignored it and took another step - this time the log came for my gut as I unsuccessfully tried to dodge. I could still see Beet- no, Marianne, growing closer and closer to the finish line, and my end.

*WACK*

Another log smacked into the back of my head, sending me to the ground again, and something inside me snapped.

With a growl so ferocious that it even scared me, I was back on my feet and moving. I was no dancer; no clever rogue that could move through untouched; no, I was a tank. I sprinted forward recklessly, full of a mysterious anger that I wasn’t even aware I was suppressing. It wasn’t fair - fair that I was born into this crappy medieval world into a poor family. It wasn’t fair that I had to go through these stupid trials that were so obviously rigged to favour the nobility, and it wasn’t fair that all of this was just to work for a stupid piece of shit father that couldn’t even look after his own daughter properly!!

I couldn’t even feel the posts anymore as they smashed into my body, likely giving me a variety of new and interesting bruises in the process. But they weren’t breaking me; no, I was breaking them, and the finish line was growing a lot closer. I don’t know what Marianne saw when she looked back at me, but the interesting colour of white her face turned gave me some pleasure as I blazed past her and across the finish line.

Exhausted, I collapsed to the ground as my rush of adrenaline left me. A nearby attendant offered me a towel and some water, which I gratefully accepted; I was still filthy from the mud pit. But as I wiped myself down I was shocked to see the towel come away with blood. The injuries I received from my rampage were worse than I realized, and I could barely suppress a groan as those injuries began cashing their checks on my body.

Beet Barbie hadn’t said anything yet, despite finishing close behind; instead she was looking at me with a weird mix of fear and respect. Ah, no, her lip was still curled with disgust. Good to know I hadn’t freaked her out that badly…

Ah, but here came a rather annoying fly.

“S-she… she… she cheated! Cheated!” gasped out the noble boy who I passed on the monkey bars.

“Huh? Cheated? Who did?” bellowed Sergeant Foster.

“Th-the filthy peasant!”

“How?”

“Sh-she passed me on the monkey bars! And look what she did to the obstacle course!” He gestured back at the pillars. They weren’t in bad shape; just a few broken bars here and there…

“W-wasn’t against the rules…” I gasped out in response.

“Really eh? And what makes you think that?” interrogated Foster as he walked over to stand over me.

“Rules just said I can’t attack the participants… nothing about the obstacle course…”

Foster stared at me for a moment, his brow scrunched up in suspicion. Another anxiety about whether I was right or not grew in my chest when-

“Hahaha!! Good answer! Can’t catch up? Then just smash your way through!”

He offered a hand, pulling me up as I accepted. “Congrats missy, you came first. And since I like the way you think, you score a whole eighty five points.” I gasped as a wave of relief washed over me; it was enough to put me over two hundred points. But was it enough to get into the top two?

The sergeant continued. “Second place is Number Ten, so you get seventy-six points! You’re too afraid to get dirty, girl. Number Thirteen, you get sixty-four points and Number Eleven, you get sixty-five points. Though you came third, you made a right muck of the monkey bars, so I’m deducting points for that.” The noble boy that was number eleven sighed and shook his head, but made no complaint.

“Right then! That brings us to your final scores,” said Sergeant Foster as he pulled out a sheet of paper. My heart was practically leaping out of my chest now; I knew it would be close...

“So, in last place we got Number Nine with fifty five points; easily eliminated before the last trial even started. Next, in fourth we have Number Thirteen with one hundred and eighty six. A decent showing, but not good enough. Third place, we have Number Twelve with two hundred and twenty-three points. I’ll be damned, that’s the best I’ve ever seen a commoner score; good show, girl.”

Huh?

“In second we have Number Eleven; he scored two hundred and twenty seven! Well done lad, you made it to the sword tourney!”

Wait… I lost?!

“And lastly we have Number Ten! With a whopping two hundred and sixty points, she easily takes first place!”

What? N-no… no. I can’t lose.

“Well done all of you, you put in a good fight. Number Ten and Eleven, head over to the arena to join the tourney. The rest of you, get lost.”

Violette’s going to die if I lose…

“See commoner? You should’ve just given up and saved yourself the effort.”

How am I going to protect her if I’m not there?

“Just ignore her, Marianne. It’s not worth wasting your time on a peasant.”

How… am I doomed for failure?