Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Industry Award
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The hall echoed with resounding applause.
It was all cheers for this Wolfram von Loengrin.
Ah, piece of cake. Jefrin Academy's a walk in the park. Loving this.
The professors were in tears, and the students were clapping wildly.
That's just how most of the kids here were wired.
They loved anything involving reform or rebellion—y'know, that stuff.
Aila might've tanked her grades here by spouting rebel nonsense that even the professors couldn't grasp, skipping classes this year altogether. But flip that around: if even a "normal" guy like me, dubbed Aila's rebellion partner, can score easy points just by mimicking it, that's the hack.
I love you all. Thank you. I'll make good use of these grades. Even after I graduate, I won't forget you guys.
Dreams my ass. My real dream's lounging as a convenience store owner for a thousand—no, ten thousand years.
Of course, I couldn't spit out any of that inner monologue.
I returned to my seat with the straightest face I could muster, then finally crossed my legs and let a sly grin creep up.
Nailed it. Scored big. I freaking crushed it!
That's how bad I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't.
Off to the side of my vision... pink. No, not quite pink—more like a darker shade, black-pink? Some freaky swirl of pitch-black and pink blasting straight at me. Terrifying stuff.
Who the hell would harbor thoughts this dangerous?
"Wolfram von Loengrin, Your Highness."
Please.
Don't look at me like that.
Don't come near me with that insane pink...
"Begone."
"Yes. But before I go, may I ask something? Will you answer?"
"I permit your question."
"...Very well. I dare to ask: just when did you... and how far have you planned?"
Hmm.
A bit of a vague one.
But reasoning it out, she's probably asking when I prepped this thing and how far the prep goes.
"...Longer than you could possibly imagine."
"......I see."
Like... the other day?
Honestly, give a guy some clay, and first he makes a knife, then a robot, then a car. I just whipped up a train as a handyman project, and since Jefrin didn't have one, I figured I'd spill the beans while I was at it.
"Indeed. Now withdraw."
"Yes, Your Highness. It seems there's no place for me at your side right now, so I'll take my leave."
"......"
"But someday, I hope there's a spot for me on the path of your grand endeavor."
"......"
Regina Cielra silently watched Wolfram's retreating back.
Then she turned, covered her face with both hands, and bowed her head.
No one could see her face right now.
This smile... it was for no one's eyes.
"...Longer than I could imagine. When could that be? Just when?"
When he enrolled at Jefrin? No, that's fully imaginable.
So earlier, back in his childhood. From those days when the imperial family branded him the "trash prince"?
"How far does his dream extend?"
Regina Cielra's specialty was inference and deduction.
The top quality demanded of the eldest daughter of House Cielra—which surpassed even House Trista—was fragment mapping.
In other words, piecing together the whole from a single shard and deducing the details. It was like crafting a precision clock from scraps of garbage info—a grueling task.
But she'd done it. A metallic tang of blood from her nose, yet Regina Cielra had grasped... at least some fragments of Wolfram von Loengrin's scheme.
"...He's trying to restart a world clock frozen for three hundred years, Your Highness."
Wolfram von Loengrin's innate stats were abysmally low. As she recalled, stamina at 2, magic power at 3. Unfit for knight or mage.
Thus, after becoming student council president, it was nonstop tyranny. He bought up the Knight Division's famed swords and the Magic Division's pricey grimoires. The public thought he grabbed only the cheap stuff, but no way.
Precisely: he bought everything. With imperial funds.
After snapping up the raw power of both divisions with the might of money, what did he do? Nothing. He sowed discord instead, stripping their vested interests and exhausting the students.
Then he handed the presidency to his little sister.
Via usurpation.
The villain faded into the shadows, and the students felt a new era dawning under the student council.
Yes. A new world would come.
But now, they could only live atop the happiness provided by Eve von Loengrin.
They'd already lost their most precious assets to Wolfram.
High-grade grimoires and famed swords.
The twin symbols of power for both divisions.
And now they were all locked up in the student council.
The council was cash-strapped, scraping by desperately.
Plain as day in Jefrin's budget reports.
Because Eve von Loengrin wouldn't release those "famed swords" and "grimoires" to the market.
Sending prices for basic iron swords and even standard robes skyrocketing—but the council had no plans to reverse it.
Why? Because swords and magic were powers built on money. And money was the most wretched power of all.
After turning Jefrin's might into a hollow shell, pitting the divisions against each other, and passing authority to his sister, Wolfram was reportedly on good terms with Eve von Loengrin afterward.
Flipping each other off and cursing, sure—but reports noted a brotherly intimacy like with commoner siblings.
If it ended there, he'd be the president who successfully abdicated to his sister. But Wolfram reemerged as an ordinary student.
He curried favor with the "grad students"—instant assets in society.
While showing his best side to the clueless "freshmen" rookies.
Investing in present and future alike: post-graduation, established grad students would welcome him, and freshmen would back him upon graduating.
"Magical Sweet. Sleeping Mountains expedition."
Regina had seen firsthand how "Magical Sweet"—a buff nonexistent in this era—ignited dreams in the faculty. Neutralizing the biggest opposition from elite intellectuals.
Plus intel that Eve von Loengrin's "student council" had directly tested and succeeded in the expedition.
"And today's train and rails."
Wolfram von Loengrin.
The man bearing the greatest bloodline, yet the lowest talents.
But it was all a facade.
He was a tiger. A lion. A dragon.
"His blade points beyond Loengrin."
Beyond the Eastern Forest's depths. Past the Western Mountains' perils. To the ice fortress's edge and the desert's far sands, where sky meets earth.
Expeditions cost a fortune now, but weave them all with rails, let steel steeds charge forth?
Supply lines ease, troops mobilize, expeditions launch.
If the founding emperor forged kingdoms and tribes into an empire, he would link and expand it further.
"The greatest dreamer since the founding emperor."
Grind. Her teeth clenched.
Not hatred for another. Self-loathing.
Why had she rejected and underestimated him at first?
"His fiancée is the lady of House Trista... No room for me as a lover."
Not magic or sword, but the weakest power—money—couldn't build a castle tall enough to stand at Wolfram von Loengrin's side.
And why? He'd casually crush pesky merchants just by trickling out a fraction of what he'd made.
Wolfram trusted Aila Trista, too. Proof: he'd handed full distribution rights for "Magical Sweet" solely to House Trista—Aila alone.
"Moreover, he fancies himself the scale itself."
No doubt there.
Wolfram judged people with his own eyes, keeping those he chose close.
Already, luminaries surrounded him: "Light of the Student Council" Eve von Loengrin. "Black Crystal" Aila Trista. [Abyss Dagger] Rudika Hassan Shadow.
Her own talent as a magitech merchant was plenty... but current value mattered little now.
Success followed the moment Wolfram chose you.
Case in point: the baron's daughter from Sabre House, Milmyu von Sabre—slated for a title as a first-year. She'd toppled the year leader under his guidance.
"For now... time to lay low."
No choice. Wolfram's faction was complete. No spot for Regina Cielra yet.
"Deeper in the shadows... I'll scheme to become the brightest supporting role on his stage someday."
Thoughts settled, Regina lifted her head. Her usual poised, elegant smile returned.
"Ahh. Wolfram von Loengrin. You've broken me three times. At the tournament. In that practical exam just now. And... right here, in the scale of your dreams and ambitions. A total defeat."
Regina giggled. Light gleamed in her eyes.
Deeper than a girl in love, those eyes brimmed with unfathomable emotion.
"Even if you hate it, I've gone and fallen for you."
With pure laughter, Regina lightly headed toward the atelier district where artists gathered.
"First things first... shall I commission a portrait of Wolfram for my room? Life-size, of course?"
After that day,
I kept feeling eyes on me from somewhere.
But the real scary part? Looking there, no one was ever present.
...This storyline exists, huh.
In Regina's route, walking campus triggered a message: "You feel a gaze from somewhere." Her fanatics called it her blessing, cheering "industry award!" or whatever. Speak for yourselves—that's your industry. Not mine.
"What's wrong, Master?"
Patrasche tilted its head as I halted abruptly.
"...No, nothing. Just now, something super ominous, super annoying... Nah, forget it."
"Tired? Makes sense with your stamina."
"...Yeah, maybe."
I shoved the image of that unimaginable black-pink fiend from my mind.
They said you needed to beat her three times to unlock the route.
I've beaten her twice, so no unlock. If it happens, it's a bug. Counted it myself—twice, solid.
"Let's head back quick. If your stamina bottoms out and you collapse, I'll be the one inconvenienced."
"...Mm."
Per Eve's advice, I took Patrasche along for outings whenever possible.
Lent some imperial dignity, felt pretty good.
"Heard the exam results dropped?"
"...Yeah."
"How'd you do? Curious."
I chuckled dryly.
Needs explaining?
Back at the convenience store, Aila was waiting.
"Wolfram. How'd the exam go?"
"...Hm."
How to put it? She'd bug me endlessly if I didn't explain, so I condensed it.
"Rebellious."
"......Knew it!"
Grinning ear to ear, she grabbed my hands and shook them wildly.
Hey. Hey. My arm's gonna pop off. Not kidding—joints in danger.
"...Let go, Aila."
"Ah, right! ...Hm."
Aila released me, face flushing as she rubbed her palms together.
Her cheeks oddly red—maybe from shaking my arms so hard, boosting circulation.
"How about you?"
"...Heh."
At my question, Aila flashed a V-sign with both hands.
"I rin. For the first time!"
"What?"
"Written was a tie at perfect scores, but she flubbed the practical weirdly. So, first place! From midterms to finals this time..."
Aila placed both hands on her chest, took a couple deep breaths, then beamed.
"Aila Trista... Magic Division year leader!"
That flawlessly bright smile left me momentarily stunned.
"......Good work."
"Yup!"
"Rebellious."
"Yup, yup!"
"Mm. Truly well done. Real rebellion. And... yeah."
Stuck for more praise, I paused to pick words—then felt hands seize mine.
"It wasn't rebellion solo! You succeeded too!"
"......True."
Social Development & Magic (Limited)
Wolfram von Loengrin
"Our joint true rebellion!"
"Yeah. So it is."
"Rebellion! Rebellion!"
"Right."
"Rebellion, I say!"
"......Yeah. Got it."
Whatever.
If you're happy, that's what counts.