Chapter 256
Chapter 256
Chapter 256
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 256 – Lan Qi Has Been Pitiful Since Childhood
“Lord Francis, Lady Zestira.”
Lan Qi bowed to the two of them, then—as usual—sat down at Viscount Francis’s side.
“Mr. Loch, I hear you go strolling around town every afternoon. How do you find this town?”
Viscount Francis asked with a smile.
“It’s an excellent city for tourism and residence, with tremendous potential for growth. If tourism is vigorously developed, prosperity is inevitable.”
Lan Qi answered earnestly.
But then he realized that might not have been the intent of Francis’s question.
The viscount fell momentarily silent.
He had only meant to ask how Lan Qi felt about living here.
Yet somehow it sounded like a provincial official giving a formal assessment.
Still, considering Lan Qi’s profession as a scholar, it wasn’t too far-fetched.
“Today, I’ve invited you both here mainly to ask for your opinions.”
Clearing his throat, Francis motioned for the butler to inform the kitchen they could begin the dinner service,
“Zestira, I would like to hire Mr. Loch to continue as your tutor, and accompany you as your attendant when you return to Protos Royal Academy of Magic. Would you accept this?”
Viscount Francis felt nervous.
He often worried whether his words might upset Zestira or hurt her, so he always spoke to her with caution.
If she agreed, he was prepared to use his authority—at some risk—to grant Lan Qi official status in Lilom City, so he could more easily travel to the imperial capital.
Sitting at Francis’s side, Lan Qi noticed that Zestira’s expression showed a trace of reluctance.
But she didn’t immediately refuse.
Although she never directly asked Lan Qi questions about magical lineages or magical engineering, she always carefully read his annotations left in the textbooks, following the pace he set. Each day she would exchange the magic lineage textbook she had finished reading for a magical engineering one, then later swap back when Lan Qi had annotated the next section.
She preferred this style of self-study.
And the instructors at Protos Royal Academy would never be as patient as Lan Qi, nor did many in the northern continent possess his unique understanding of magical engineering.
The dinner table grew silent after Francis’s proposal, the servants even sensing the heavy atmosphere. They quickly placed the dishes and withdrew.
These past days, Lan Qi had also learned a bit about that school, and understood what troubled Zestira.
The Protos Royal Academy of Magic lay somewhere between Ikerite Academy and Purgatory Corridor Academy in style, but had its own defining traits.
First, family background and social standing were paramount. Students were divided from the start into the Upper and Lower Institutes, with drastically different resources and treatment. Noble born students held countless privileges.
Second, factionalism ran rampant. Genuine friendship was rare.
When speaking with Silver-Armored Clerics, Lan Qi had overheard that conflicts among students there often went beyond taking an opponent’s life—they might first humiliate, torment, and extort them. It was a place of rules, but also shadows; a place where one could quickly grow strong.
The Annihilation Bishop had once sent the Annihilation Son there under false identity. He graduated with bloody achievements and brilliant grades, greatly pleasing the bishop.
Later, even the Ba'tian Saintess perished at the hands of that same Annihilation Son.
Because of its ruthless elimination system, noble students who survived gained even greater privileges—sometimes exceeding those of ordinary professors.
They could use credits to skip grades, and wield many other powers, which they could even share with their attendants, granting them conveniences to better serve.
This privilege was mockingly called “Servant Summoning”—a contest of whose family background was stronger.
A powerful or useful attendant could make a noble’s school life much easier.
Of course, attendants could not exceed sixth rank, roughly the equivalent of a third-year student.
Many high-ranking students and even professors enjoyed evaluating noble freshmen’s attendants, treating them as summoned creatures, judging their worth by rank and quality.
Originally, Zestira had refused any attendants. Francis could only respect her decision, for her nature was that way.
But now, unexpectedly, he had drawn from the sea a scholar from the southern continent of uncertain grade.
Most importantly—Zestira was actually willing to spend time with him.
Perhaps he could persuade her to take him as a knowledge-type attendant, since her studies were unbalanced, and she needed a tutor she would actually heed.
“……”
Zestira sat in silence for a long time.
She didn’t really want an attendant—solitude suited her better.
Most crucially, in that prison where power and status ruled all, if she failed to secure her footing, being her half-demon attendant would not be a blessing. He might be dragged down with her, facing prejudice, discrimination, misfortune, and injustice.
“Zestira…”
Just as Francis was about to ask about her grasp of magical lineages and magical engineering, hoping to use that as leverage—
“Better not, Lord Viscount.”
Lan Qi spoke gently, not wanting to embarrass Zestira.
“Since childhood, I’ve been plagued by misfortune. My family’s trade guild nearly collapsed because of me… If I follow the young lady to the capital, I fear I would only hinder her, bring nothing but trouble.”
As he spoke, his expression darkened, as though recalling something deeply painful.
The table fell silent.
Such heavy words hardly seemed false.
This gentle, courteous young man hardly looked like a scoundrel who would curse his own family’s ruin.
Finally—
“Trouble doesn’t scare me. I’m good at taking care of people.”
Zestira lifted her gaze to Lan Qi and said.
“This…?”
Lan Qi hesitated.
“Come with me to the capital. Continue teaching me magical lineages and magical engineering. I don’t want to listen to those academy instructors.”
Having said this, Zestira returned to her meal.
“Thank you, Lady Zestira.”
Their exchange ended, and the table returned to its earlier peace, broken only by the occasional clink of spoon against porcelain echoing through the dining hall.
Viscount Francis: “???”
(End of Chapter)