Chapter 201
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 201
Startled by my sudden declaration that I needed her, Kiriel took a sharp step back.
“Wh-What? What exactly do you plan to use me for?”
I continued, my voice calm and steady.
“To be precise, I need the power of the spirits you command and your authority as Student Council President. I’ll need to borrow your spirit users once the festival is over.”
“The spirit users? Why?”
Spirit users were a highly skilled workforce, incredibly efficient when it came to civil engineering. A single spirit user could perform the work of hundreds of laborers—they were, in effect, living construction machines. In modern terms, they were the equivalent of excavators or tower cranes.
Deploying them would drastically shorten the academy’s construction timeline.
Not only was Kiriel a top-tier talent capable of commanding all Five Great Spirits, but she also possessed the leadership to persuade and guide the spirit users under her. Having her on board would provide a massive boost to the project.
“I have a specific use for them. I just need to borrow as many as possible for about six months.”
“Are you planning some kind of large-scale construction?”
“Yes. And speak of the devil.”
I turned my gaze toward the door.
Knock, knock.
A sharp rap sounded against the wood.
Klimt, the President of Tulay Academy, had arrived with Demian for our scheduled meeting.
Klimt entered with a practiced, friendly smile. “It seems you already have a guest. Pardon the intrusion.”
Demian, on the other hand, shot Kiriel’s group an irritable glare. “What’s this? Elves? I heard you’re behind on the stadium construction payments. Are you here to beg for money?”
“You’re right on the mark. Please, have a seat.”
Voltimir, currently in a financial bind over construction costs, and Tulay Academy, which was overseeing the stadium’s build. The heads of both academies were now gathered in one room. The palpable awkwardness between them suggested their relationship was strained at best.
Did they have a spat over the funding?
I took my seat at the head of the table and spoke, acting as a mediator.
“The stadium construction for the academy festival won’t be halted. I’ve decided to cover the costs myself.”
“That’s a relief to hear,” Demian grunted. “I was getting a headache listening to them whine about meeting the deadline when they didn’t even have the gold.”
“……”
Kiriel lowered her head, stung by Demian’s remark.
Amidst the tension, Klimt turned to me. “Roen, you must need a staggering amount of capital to establish a new academy… Do you truly have enough to spare for the stadium as well?”
“Of course I do. I have enough to hire only the finest craftsmen and source the highest quality materials.”
“You sound confident. What is your desired deadline?”
“I want to be able to accept students by the beginning of next year. I expect completion during the winter break.”
When I mentioned opening the academy so soon, Demian’s expression shifted to one of concern.
“Aren’t you rushing things? There are only a few months left.”
He had a point. But…
“…In any case, next year is the only time I’ll have to personally oversee the academy.”
Once Valerian Academy is built, my third year is the only window I’ll have to directly manage and involve myself with its operations. Once I reach my fourth year, I’ll be constantly off-campus for career experience, leaving me no time to look after it. I’d have time after graduation, of course, but by then, the impact would be diminished.
Then there was the main quest I had been given: ‘Maintain the position of Student Council President until graduation.’
I had no idea what would happen once that quest was cleared.
Furthermore, too many variables had been introduced into the main story of Myrillin Saga. The gap between the original plot and current events was widening, making the future increasingly difficult to predict.
Since the emergence of the Twelve Honored Ones, their movements had been a constant source of pressure. It wouldn't be surprising if they were planning a large-scale invasion of the academies at this very moment.
To turn the students into a viable fighting force as quickly as possible, the academy had to be finished within the year. I had to raise as many 'troops' as I could within the next two years.
Seeing my urgency, Klimt stroked his chin, lost in thought.
“It depends on the scale, but meeting such a deadline is generally a monumental task. The tighter the schedule, the higher the risk of accidents, and overall quality is bound to suffer. Unless, of course, you’ve already made extensive preparations…”
“It’s fine. Everything is ready.”
“…?”
“The land, the funding, the manpower, and the materials. It’s all prepared.”
Since I already had the Chairman’s permission, I could begin developing the untamed lands at any time. Money was no issue either; I was sitting on a mountain of cash after wrapping things up in the underworld. As for manpower, that would be solved by borrowing Voltimir’s spirit users after the festival. I could simply hire Tulay Academy’s skilled technicians at a premium.
Finally, the construction materials could be funneled through the underworld and the Lombard Merchant Guild.
“As for the blueprints, we can simply restore the original Valerian Academy buildings. Your job will be to reinterpret the design with a modern touch and supervise the construction process.”
Since I had taken on the role of the developer, Tulay Academy just needed to act as the contractor.
The only remaining hurdle was time, which could be overcome by breaking ground immediately.
I confidently handed over the project proposal. After skimming through it, Demian asked in a trembling voice, “You… just how long have you been preparing for this?”
I gave him a thin smirk.
“Since the moment I became the Student Council President.”
*
Night fell, blanketing the world in a deep, blue darkness.
Inside Beatrice’s office on the top floor of Eredor’s Hall of Truth, the Princess slowly read the report Assistant Professor Wayne had handed her before setting it down.
“It seems the festival preparations are proceeding smoothly thanks to Roen’s intervention. We had considered stepping in if things took a turn for the worse.”
The academy festival was the Union’s premier event—the face of the Union to the entire continent, attended by countless nobles and dignitaries. Although Voltimir was the host, Beatrice could not tolerate any flaws in the proceedings.
After all, His Majesty the Emperor himself would be in attendance.
Of course, providing overt support from Eredor or using Beatrice’s personal funds would be politically sensitive. It could be perceived as more than just a matter between schools, but as a diplomatic transaction between nations.
In that regard, Roen, as a scion of the Devalis family, was in a unique position.
‘Fundamentally, the Devalis family has always remained aloof from the power struggles of the great houses.’
No one would question the integrity of those who guarded the Great Wall as the continent’s shield.
Moreover, Roen held the neutral position of Student Council President. No one would raise an objection to his involvement.
‘But… where on earth did he get the capital to provide such a staggering sum?’
As Beatrice pondered this, Assistant Professor Wayne spoke up.
“Your Highness, on that note, I hear Roen is establishing a new academy.”
“Yes, I heard as much from the Chairman. It is quite unusual, though—for Roen to establish an academy on his own initiative rather than under the Devalis name.”
Truthfully, a family of Devalis’s stature could easily justify having its own academy. Under the pretext of cultivating talent to defend the Wall, no one could object. Academies like Jerome were already openly training future military forces within the Union.
But instead of leveraging his family’s prestige, Roen had resurrected the name of a defunct institution: Valerian. Furthermore, he was funding it entirely on his own.
What were his intentions?
“What is your take on this, Sir Wayne?”
“I believe it may be a stepping stone to bolster his reputation and public standing, much like his actions thus far.”
“To burn through hundreds of billions of Krone for a mere reputation boost…?”
When Beatrice replied skeptically, Wayne tried another angle.
“Or perhaps the Devalis family is supporting him from the shadows?”
“If that were the case, there would be no reason to use the name Valerian.”
An academy’s name was its identity. Unlike the four great academies, which were amalgams of various families and kingdoms, there was no reason for an academy founded by a single power not to use its own name. Jerome and Izelin were proof of that.
Besides, the name Devalis—the Shield of the Continent—would attract students like moths to a flame.
Why had Roen made this choice?
As Beatrice ruminated, a sudden thought flashed through her mind.
‘Surely… he doesn’t harbor those old ideals.’
Beatrice quietly bit her lip.
Valerian was once known as one of the Union’s five great academies. The reason that massive institution had vanished into the annals of history was simple.
‘A place of learning open to all. An ivory tower of knowledge where anyone with talent could enter, regardless of birth.’
The principle was noble, but their ambitions hadn't stopped there. They had begun to question the very class system that had dominated the continent for centuries.
They eventually established a free city, dreaming of a society where all people were equal. But that dream was short-lived. Their success was a direct challenge to the ruling class.
An alliance of kingdoms, led by the Empire, had formed specifically to crush that free city.
“……”
Beatrice didn’t necessarily think the alliance was 'right,' but she understood their reasoning. The establishment never surrenders its privileges willingly. Including herself.
‘A society where all are equal.’
What a fantastical notion.
Even if the walls between nobles and commoners crumbled, she doubted such a society could exist. Humans were creatures of comparison, driven by the desire to climb by trampling those beneath them.
Regardless.
There was no way Roen—a man who had enjoyed the fruits of nobility his entire life and used them to torment others—would ever walk such a path.
It was a foolish thought.
As Beatrice remained lost in thought, Wayne asked with a look of concern, “Your Highness, are you feeling alright?”
Beatrice had suffered another mana seizure during a magic class just a few days prior.
She answered with a weary sigh. “Alright? It is always the same.”
The Ileumjeolmaek—a condition that granted her peerless magical aptitude but cursed her with violent mana seizures. It was both a divine blessing and a horrific curse. Every day was a gauntlet of torment; she never knew when that agonizing pain would strike again. Beatrice lived in constant fear.
She always carried medicine and avoided unnecessary activity, but she could never truly escape the threat.
Were the Empire’s mages even attempting to find a cure?
Or…
‘Are they simply waiting for me to die?’
Beatrice’s right to the throne was secure. Her ascension after the Emperor’s passing was a foregone conclusion. If the Princess—a mage of the century beloved by the people—took the throne, she would wield absolute power.
But that absolute power was a thorn in the side of many nobles. They preferred the chaos of political intrigue, a climate far better suited for lining their own pockets.
“I will look into every possible method, Your Highness.”
“A method.”
Beatrice closed her eyes and leaned back into her chair.
She recalled the incident in class. Driven by a pointless sense of competition, she had pushed her magic too far, triggering an excruciating seizure.
But when Roen had placed his hand on her chest, she felt her body relax.
A warm magical energy had radiated through her. That warmth had melted the icy blades piercing her heart and gently stabilized her Mana Heart.
Was it a mere coincidence? Or did he possess a unique ability to suppress the seizures?
‘I must ask him about this.’
And if he truly knew a way to cure her cursed constitution…
“……”
Beatrice clenched her fists, praying that her intuition was correct.
*
That night.
I returned to my workshop and, for the first time in a while, summoned a spirit.
Fwoosh—!
A large egg rose from the magic circle amidst a plume of black smoke.
Kabeltar’s egg still possessed that smooth, metallic surface, now tinged with a deep, inky black. Even at a glance, it was significantly larger than before—now far surpassing the size of an ostrich egg.
Clack.
I placed a fist-sized Dark Mana Stone near the egg. It was the stone left behind by the lich I had defeated in the Chrono Dungeon.
Instantly, a dark tentacle lashed out from the egg, snatched the mana stone, and pulled it into the shell.
Zzzzzk—.
A notification window appeared immediately.
[Kabeltar is pleased with your offering. The hatching rate has increased.]
I watched the percentage climb, lost in thought.
I had fed it quite a few Dark Mana Stones over the months. The stone from the Black Moth Queen beyond the Wall, and the stones left by Carmilla’s group during the underworld conflict.
And now, the stone from the Chrono Dungeon’s lich.
After the egg had fully digested the lich’s stone, the hatching rate finally hit the threshold.
Ting!
[Hatching rate has reached 100%.]
Crack—!
In that instant, a jagged fissure appeared on the surface of the massive egg. Thick, black smoke billowed out, filling the entire room.
[Kabeltar awakens from its long slumber and greets you once more….]