Arrival at Scythia Academy
Scythia Academy.
Scythia Academy.
It was a storied educational institution of the empire, founded more than seven hundred years ago.
Yet the Scythia Academy of the past had been a very different place from the one that stood today.
A thousand years earlier, the Obina Empire had conquered the continent. The empire truly deserved to be called legendary, for it was the unmatched martial prowess of its armies and the brilliance of its great generals that allowed it to subdue such vast lands.
The empire’s earliest days, however, had been far from smooth. After the conquest, its strength had been severely drained by the overextension of its campaigns. Uniting so many peoples who spoke different languages and followed different customs under a single banner overnight had also sown chaos. They shared nothing but contiguous borders; calling them one people when they had once been entirely separate nations was bound to provoke resistance.
To make matters worse, the loyal retainers who had been promised shares of power during the unification began to quarrel among themselves. Today the imperial house held overwhelming authority, but in those early years the nobility’s influence had been considerable. Emperor Obina I had not forged the empire by his own strength alone; he had relied on the allegiance and support of many lesser states. Even as emperor he could not simply ignore their voices, and so he had been forced to tread carefully around the nobles.
Problems that had festered while he focused on unification finally erupted, leaving Obina I with a splitting headache. Yet he cut away the rotting parts and enacted a host of policies to make the empire great. Scythia Academy was one of them.
In those days the academy had been little more than a social salon where high nobles and royal heirs gathered. Under the pretext of education, the heirs of various houses were assembled, and the imperial successors were placed among them. When the next generation came of age, the second sons and daughters who would one day hold power found themselves naturally aligned with one imperial heir or another, forming factions. The true purpose was not to let the loudest nobles unite against the throne, but to split their ranks and keep them divided. While educating the next generation, Obina I also kept the aristocracy in check. The plan worked perfectly, and he used the opportunity to begin restoring imperial authority.
After Obina I’s death, time passed until Obina V ascended the throne. He decided that an academy already established should not be left half-finished, and so Scythia Academy was formally founded, transforming from a glorified social club into a genuine educational institution.
From basic scholarship to military training in swordsmanship and archery, and even the arcane arts of mana and magic—what began simply soon branched into many specialized fields. Scythia Academy became a superb facility for gathering and cultivating outstanding talent.
At first only high nobles were admitted, but gradually even lesser barons were allowed to enroll. In the present day, any commoner of exceptional ability could attend with a full scholarship.
“Oh…!”
And now, at last, Rosaria stood before that boundless sanctuary of learning—Scythia Academy.
The main gate was more imposing than a palace entrance. Emblazoned dead center was the white dragon, the emblem of the Obina Empire. The sight was nothing short of magnificent.
“Even Seoul National or Harvard would look small next to this…”
“Whoa… that’s insane.”
“Heh… we finally made it.”
The three who had stepped down from the carriage could not help but stare in awe. An academy like Hogwarts in a world of fantasy set the hearts of modern reincarnators pounding.
“Well, I’m faculty, so I’ll be heading off.”
“Ah, I’ll go too. The attendants gather somewhere separate, right? Bennet-noona!”
“Young miss! I shall see you later!”
“Huh? Uh—”
The little cluster that had been Rosaria’s party scattered at once, beginning with Felix. Rosaria could only watch blankly as she was left standing alone at the gate like an abandoned duckling.
“…Tch. Might as well go in.”
She could not stay rooted there forever. Adjusting the strap of the sniper rifle slung over her shoulder—technically classified as a magic staff for now—she trudged inside.
“Oh… lots of people in here.”
Beyond the gate, students her own age streamed forward in lines. Their clothes varied wildly, yet every one of them wore the same brooch on their chest: the white dragon emblem that marked Scythia Academy.
“…So where am I supposed to go?”
She had been walking without thinking, simply following the crowd, when she realized she had never decided on a destination. Felix had explained it in the carriage, but that had been three days ago, right after a meal when drowsiness was already creeping in. She had completely forgotten.
And so Rosaria became thoroughly lost inside the academy grounds.
“Ah, damn. Don’t they have maps around here?”
Buildings to the left, even larger buildings to the right. She was scanning the area for any visitor map or guidepost when a voice called from behind.
“My, if it isn’t Young Lady Evergarden?”
“Huh?”
Rosaria turned at the sound of her name.
“Young Lady?”
Since possessing this body she had been called “daughter” and “young miss,” but “Young Lady” still felt strange. The surname “Evergarden” attached to it, however, told her the speaker was addressing her.
“It’s been some time. This is the first we’ve met since the holiday.”
A young woman stood before her, dressed in a frilled and heavily ornamented gown, her hair arranged in distinctive drill-like ringlets. Judging by the clothes, she was clearly a noble daughter of considerable wealth. Behind her trailed several other young ladies of similar standing; she advanced with regal confidence.
“By the way… you look rather disheveled. What happened to all those dresses and jewels you used to flaunt? Now you’re dressed like some servant… What a refreshing change. A young lady in commoner’s clothes… Heh.”
She eyed Rosaria’s outfit with open mockery and a smile full of scorn.
Lately Rosaria had abandoned the stifling dresses entirely, preferring clean, simple clothes and trousers. At a glance she looked less like a noble and more like a well-dressed minor nobleman—or, if not for her striking beauty, a prosperous commoner.
“I heard the count’s house has been struggling lately. Seems the rumors were true.”
“Indeed. And trousers, of all things… Hardly the basics of ladylike conduct.”
Once the lead young lady opened fire, the girls arrayed behind her joined in with giggles.
“……”
“My, after so long apart, do you intend to ignore my greeting entirely?”
Rosaria’s silence in the face of the barbs only delighted the speaker further. Backed by her snickering retinue, she crossed her arms and smirked with self-satisfaction.
“Uh… sorry, but… who… are you again?”
She seems like someone I knew before the possession, but I don’t know her at all! This is awkward…
“…Excuse me?”
The reason for Rosaria’s silence had been simple: the young lady acting so familiar was a complete stranger to her.
“Hah…! Eileen just took a direct hit.”
“Treating her like a total unknown…”
“Ah… right~ Young Lady Eileen…? Is that it? I’ve been so scatterbrained lately. It’s been a while… hasn’t it?”
“Y-you…!”
Rosaria’s absurdly honest reply turned the mockery back on its source. The girls behind Eileen whispered among themselves, and Eileen’s face flushed scarlet with humiliation and shame.
Rosaria had simply asked who she was, but to Eileen—who had known the original Rosaria’s face—it sounded like, Who do you think you are, speaking to me? Know your place.
“…Ha, ha! Young Lady Rosaria. You’ve changed quite a bit since before the holiday, haven’t you? Not a shred of dignity left! As a noble, shouldn’t you set an example?”
“I mean… do we really have to do that stuff even here?”
“What?!”
Publicly humiliated in front of her own followers, Eileen still tried to recover her composure and resume the sniping. Rosaria’s sheepish little reply, however, finally shattered her restraint; her face twisted and she shrieked.
In an academy where commoners and nobles mixed freely, Rosaria’s meaning was simply that there was no need to draw lines of rank. To Eileen it landed as the ultimate insult: Why should I bother acting dignified for the likes of you?
“You! Did you just finish speaking?!”
“What’s with her…?”
Two clean counterpunches in a row from light jabs she had thrown herself left Eileen unable to contain her temper. She stormed right up to Rosaria, shoving her face close and shouting. Rosaria was simply bewildered.
Huh. She is pretty, though.
“Um… this is… hard to take… could you step back a little…?”
“Hard to take…?! A-are you saying I smell?!”
Even after time in a woman’s body, the soul inside was still a pure, hopeless virgin. Eileen’s daringly cut dress already drew the eye to the center of her chest; having that chest thrust into her face was more than Rosaria could handle. She stepped backward while speaking, and Eileen, completely misreading the gesture, lost all reason and screamed as if ready to leap at her throat.
“Y-Young Lady Eileen…! There are too many eyes here. Let’s withdraw for now!”
“Y-yes! That would be best! Engaging her here will only drag you deeper!”
“…Haa. Very well. I shall retreat for the moment. But! You would do well to prepare yourself, Young Lady Evergarden!”
Noticing the growing crowd of onlookers drawn by the rising volume, Eileen’s attendants hurried to restrain her. Eileen drew a deep breath, glared at Rosaria as though she meant to kill her, and shouted one last time.
“We’re leaving. Hmph!”
With that, Eileen and her clique turned on their heels and swept away in haughty procession. Rosaria simply stared after them in a daze.
“Ah! I should have asked them where I was supposed to go.”
Only then did she realize she had forgotten the most important question of all.