Abandoned in the mountains, I was adopted by a lizard ~I mastered magic and surpassed my parents, but I didn't know they were legendary ancient dragons~

Chapter 6 Entrance Exam 2 – Swordsmanship

There were several special booths set up for the test in the schoolyard. The test-takers were assigned to different booths based on their exam numbers.

When I arrived at the booth corresponding to my exam number, there were already a dozen or so people lined up.

One by one, they stepped into the ring and faced the examiner with their swords. The examiner seemed quite formidable, as none of the test-takers managed to win. Despite this, the test-takers left the ring looking satisfied and thanking the examiner, which made me think that winning wasn’t necessary to pass.

As I observed, I suddenly realized something alarming.

…Wait a minute. All the test-takers have brought their own swords!?

What should I do? There was nothing about bringing a sword on the list of items to bring for the exam, so I didn’t buy one.

Time, being cruel, passed quickly, and soon it was my turn.

“Um… do I need to bring my own sword to take this test?” I asked the examiner hesitantly.

“No, that’s not necessary. We have swords here for the test-takers to borrow. However, everyone has a specific type and weight of sword that they are most comfortable with. That’s why many bring their own swords to perform their best during the test,” the examiner explained.

So it wasn’t mandatory to have my own sword. I see, that’s why everyone brought their own. It’s an unspoken rule of sorts.

No wonder it wasn’t mentioned in the exam guide.

“Excuse me, may I borrow a sword?” I asked.

“Sure, go ahead. Take whichever one you like from over there,” the examiner replied, pointing to a rack holding various swords of different sizes.

I picked up each sword one by one, testing their feel.

Hmm… they all feel too light. They don’t give me the sense of holding a real weapon. Fighting with one of these feels unreliable… Wait, I have an idea.

“Excuse me,” I called out.

“What is it? If it’s not on the rack, I can’t lend it to you,” the examiner responded.

I had thought of a good solution and decided to ask if it was allowed.

“Can I fight with a sword I make here on the spot?”

“…Huh?” The examiner was taken aback, his mouth hanging open in surprise.

“I don’t quite understand what you mean, but since there’s nothing in the rules against it, I suppose it’s fine…”

With that, I received permission. Alright, time to make it.

Using transmutation alchemy magic, I transformed the air into an orichalcum-adamantite alloy and forged a sword. This alloy combination is theoretically the strongest. Yes, the weight and sturdiness feel just right.

“It’s done!” I exclaimed.

“A sword… from nothing…! You weren’t speaking metaphorically when you said you’d make a sword…,” the examiner stammered, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“I don’t quite understand, but… whatever! The match begins now!” the examiner declared, still looking bewildered.

As I stepped into the ring, the examiner, still somewhat dazed, signaled the start of the match.

I decided to take a swing, aiming casually at him. The examiner raised his sword to block my attack.

At that moment, something unexpected happened.

“What the…!?”

With a sharp crack, the examiner’s sword shattered.

Was it a maintenance issue? Would they call this a no-contest and restart the match with a new sword? Or maybe they’d declare it my win anyway. Just in case, I pressed my advantage and held my sword to the examiner’s neck.

“I… I yield… I lost…” he said, conceding the match.

I lowered my sword, realizing the match was over.

Winning because the sword happened to break at that moment—was that going to be okay for scoring? If higher scores were given to those who had a more intense match, perhaps I’d prefer a rematch.

As I pondered this, the examiner muttered softly to himself.

“No way… The sword crafted by a master…,” the examiner muttered, clearly devastated.

This doesn’t look good. Upsetting the examiner won’t help my score.

I should probably apologize and offer something in return.

“Um… you can have this sword if you’d like!” I offered, thinking that since I made it on the spot, it wasn’t a big deal to give it away.

“R-Really?” he stammered.

“Yes. I’m sorry for breaking your sword, so please accept this as an apology,” I said sincerely.

“No, it’s I who should apologize,” he replied.

After this exchange, I handed the sword to the examiner. Then, another unexpected event occurred.

“Whoa!”

As soon as the examiner took hold of the sword, he lost his balance and dropped it. The tip of the sword hit the ground first, leaving a small dent.

“What the heck is this heavy sword made of?!” the examiner exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock.

“It’s an Orichalcum-Admantite alloy,” I replied.

“Orichal… huh!?” The examiner’s confusion deepened.

“Where did you even get such a material?” he asked.

“I made it using alchemy,” I explained.

“Orichalcum through alchemy…!? And did you just say Adamantite? Why would you use something like that for a sword…?”

“Because it’s the strongest material for making a sword,” I answered matter-of-factly.

Adamantite is the most rigid pure metal. However, metals are often stronger in alloy form. So, I mixed in about twenty percent Orichalcum to create an alloy, making the sword’s material theoretically the strongest possible.

Therefore, using Adamantite for the sword’s material was an obvious choice—or so I thought.

“That makes sense, but… Adamantite has a density of 300 grams per cubic centimeter! Making a longsword out of that material…” The examiner pointed at the sword, his voice trembling.

Yes, this sword weighs nearly 65 kilograms.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“How can anyone wield such a heavy sword… but you were swinging it around like it was nothing. So, this weight is suitable for you…” The examiner muttered to himself, eventually holding his head in his hands.

After a while, he came to a conclusion.

“For now, I don’t need this. I can continue the test with the school’s equipment. If I keep swinging this thing, my arm won’t last a minute,” the examiner said.

Is it really that heavy? It feels a bit disheartening to have my sword rejected. Now I don’t know how to regain the examiner’s favor.

“But wasn’t your sword important?” I asked.

“Don’t worry. I can replace my sword with the school’s budget,” the examiner replied, giving a thumbs up. Well, I guess that’s reassuring… sort of?

“Actually, I’m glad your sword was such a formidable one. If it had broken against a normal sword, it might have been blamed on poor maintenance, making it my responsibility. But since it was up against an Orichalcum-Adamantite alloy sword, it’s definitely going to be logged as an operational loss. The expense report will go through smoothly.”

Although I’m not completely reassured, there isn’t much more I can do, so I decided to leave the ring.

The last test is the magic exam. Regardless of how the swordsmanship test is graded, I need to make sure to excel here.