8. Everyone's Circumstances
8. Everyone's Circumstances
"P-Princess! I shall pour the tea myself!"
"Please, think of it as a kindness between friends."
"F-Friends! How could someone like me possibly...!"
"I already consider you one."
The dessert café in the academy's magic department.
Opened under the Chairwoman's permission by the professor who had served as dean before Villend, this place was nothing short of the magic department's crowning attraction.
The desserts, crafted by a 6th Rank mage, were shaped through countless delicate spells and exceptional baking skill to produce astonishing flavors.
Truthfully, if one were to split hairs, they differed little from other renowned dessert shops in the kingdom. But with a student discount that made the prices remarkably affordable, there was always a line.
And right now, in the finest room that very café offered—
on the rooftop terrace commanding a sweeping view of the surroundings, Beatrice and Milia were having tea.
"Your midterm scores were excellent, and a week on an uninhabited island isn't the worst thing, is it? I'd call it a fortunate connection."
"But it is far too great an honor..."
"Let me be blunt. I'm not royalty of this kingdom—I'm merely the princess of a minor realm right next door. The fourth princess, at that. No need to be overly uncomfortable."
"Y-Your Highness."
"Complete informality may be impossible, but surely friendship is within reach? It wouldn't be bad for Milia either, would it?"
"...Understood, Your Highness."
Milia still looked ill at ease as she spoke, but she seemed to have grasped the true meaning behind Beatrice's words.
Every student attending the academy was extraordinary. That much was obvious. Even if the Chairwoman tried to impose equality among students through her authority, it would only spark countless objections.
Instead, the Chairwoman had granted all students an equality of opportunity. Royal, noble, commoner—all were guaranteed equal rights to apply for lectures, study, and learn.
Within such an academy, expecting royalty and commoners to coexist as equals was naturally impossible—even if the royalty in question was from another kingdom.
But if the royal party yielded first, a reasonable degree of familiarity—friendship at the level of conversation—was entirely feasible.
And should that happen, from a commoner's perspective, it constituted an enormous opportunity. That was what Milia had noticed.
Which was precisely why.
'Suspicious.'
It was exactly why Beatrice was watching Milia.
Discerning the true intent behind words that sounded pleasant but inoffensive was not an ability an ordinary commoner could possess. It had nothing to do with Rank. It would be no exaggeration to call this manner of speech a uniquely aristocratic trait.
And if Milia aspired to join the Carpenter's Guild, doubly so.
'A mage who simply refines woodworking skills—someone hoping to enter the Carpenter's Guild—could not possibly be familiar with this style of discourse.'
Yet Milia had understood Beatrice's meaning. An ordinary commoner, far from understanding, would have kept bowing and scraping in perpetual discomfort.
Nor was it merely sharp intuition. It felt like someone accustomed to this mode of speech.
'Rus Spero could manage it.'
She had said it was unrelated to Rank, but the calculus shifted around the 6th or 7th Rank. A commoner who reached 7th Rank could immediately receive a non-hereditary noble title in the kingdom. Depending on future merits, they might even be fully incorporated into a noble house.
Noble blood, the innate quality of birth, was one qualification of the aristocracy—but in a world that perpetually demanded strength against monsters and rival nations, a high Rank was equally a qualification for nobility.
What treatment was the 8th Rank Chairwoman receiving from the kingdom right now? Why had everyone been stunned when 6th Rank Rus Spero entered the academy?
She had heard that in the hegemonic Empire, even high-Rank commoners faced discrimination. But the kingdom, which had to remain wary of the Empire, discriminated little against commoners of high Rank.
The party in desperate need is always the pursuer, never the pursued.
In any case, Rus Spero—6th Rank at his age—might well be versed in aristocratic conversation. He could simply read heartbeats and movements to divine intent, or various nobles and royals might have approached him.
But Milia was a different story. 3rd Rank—certainly high, yet from another angle, barely 3rd Rank.
'Honestly, Ranks below 5th don't carry that much weight.'
Wasn't Beatrice herself listed as 5th Rank on paper? But if asked whether she truly possessed abilities on par with a 5th Rank like Chloe Pisti, the answer was obviously no.
There was a reason the 6th Rank had a clear threshold—the presence or absence of Sword Aura or Rigid Energy. For royalty and high nobles, lying about being 5th Rank was practically a convention.
So much so that gossips circulated a joke that across the continent, the most abundant Ranks after 1st and 2nd were 5th Rank. Anyone with a modicum of power frequently lied about being 4th or 5th Rank on paper.
'At any rate.'
Setting that aside, Milia possessed an intuition unsuited to her commoner status and Rank. The techniques she demonstrated—far too refined for a commoner 3rd Rank mage, as though systematically taught—were further proof.
Thus, the conclusion Beatrice reached was:
'A noble concealing her identity. Or if not, certainly no commoner.'
Looked at that way, the invitation to join the Student Council also became somewhat suggestive. Had she truly been approached for her abilities?
Expertly concealing her many questions, Beatrice ate a bite of sculpted cake with a radiant smile.
"Let's get along from now on."
"Yes...!"
The reason she wanted to befriend such a suspicious student was simple.
Beatrice's current objective was—
"If we're friends, may I ask one thing?"
"O-Of course!"
"I've heard that Student Council invitations are issued by summoning students directly to the Council chamber. That students who haven't been 'invited' in such a manner cannot enter."
"Yes... that is how it works..."
"I'd like to hear about what happened then."
—getting into the Student Council.
And according to circulating rumor, a junior of the Finance Director's, someone he still knew personally—
"The Student Council President."
"...!!"
"I'm curious what kind of person she is."
—meeting the Student Council President.
That was the first step of the plan Beatrice had devised: Operation Acquire Adam Caines.
*
"..."
"Finance Director? Why are you suddenly shivering like that... have you caught a cold?"
"Hmph. A cold like that wouldn't matter if he'd trained properly."
"First Guard Unit Commander, shut your mouth."
"...Yes ma'am."
"In any case, Finance Director? If you feel a chill, hold my hand. I'll channel some ki into you."
"No, I'm fine. It isn't a cold."
Something.
I had a profoundly ominous feeling. It was truly nothing more than a feeling, which made it all the more disquieting.
What on earth was causing it?
'Has Beatrice started demolishing buildings again? Did a magic-department lab explode? Has some unexpected expense arisen? Or maybe the protagonist bastard? If not him, is it that damn junior of mine?'
There were so many possible sources that it was actually confusing.
But agonizing over it wasn't going to uncover whatever was giving me the creeps.
So I just ignored it like I always did and looked at the Chairwoman, who was wearing a worried expression.
More to the point, why did she keep glancing at the nape of my neck?
"My body's fine, no need to concern yourself. Shall we go in?"
"Alright. First Guard Unit Commander?"
"Yes!"
"Guard this VIP room securely until the Finance Director and I emerge. After that, well—feel free to talk with that Julius fellow however you like."
"Thank you!"
I wondered why a fellow 7th Rank was so thrilled his helmet was practically rattling off, but Sir Julius occupied a different stratum even among 7th Ranks.
The position of Royal Knight Commander meant directly guarding the royal family, particularly the king. For a knight, there was no post more honorable.
Ten years ago, dozens of 7th Ranks had gathered for a tournament to select the Royal Knight Commander, and the one who had won without a single scratch was none other than Sir Julius.
The problem was that those who ascended from 7th to 8th Rank were not merely scarce—they were nearly nonexistent. As a result, the 7th Rank was considered the tier with the largest internal chasm, combining grizzled veterans who had lingered there for decades with newcomers who had just reached it.
And among all 7th Ranks, Sir Julius was known as one of those closest to 8th Rank.
One could argue he was a potential future Margrave or Chairwoman.
'The Chairwoman called him a pushover, but surely not really.'
He only acted like a pushover before the Chairwoman and the Margrave. In truth, he might have an entirely different character.
At any rate, I had never seen him in the game, which kept me somewhat on edge as I entered the VIP room.
And inside—
"Nunim! It has truly been too long! Allow me, Julius, to offer a bow to Nunim——"
"Sit down, Julius."
Thwack!
"Khuheok!? B-But toward my master's Nunim, how could I possibly...!"
"Staying still is how you help."
"...Yes."
What the hell?
Did a large middle-aged man I presumed to be Sir Julius just try to bow and get kicked by the Chairwoman? It was genuinely too fast to see.
No, more than that—
It was honestly more astonishing that he was fine after taking a kick from the Chairwoman.
"Ha... well. I suppose this meeting isn't exactly for pleasant reasons. I was far too rude, Nunim."
"Your junior must have told you plenty. As Royal Knight Commander, you should carry some gravitas."
"Haha! But what can one do about one's nature? His Highness himself told me that keeping my mouth shut in official settings suffices!"
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I'm aware! Haha! More importantly, the person beside you—could it be...?"
"Sir Julius, greetings. I am the Finance Director of Grandis Academy——"
"Erm, well. Nunim."
"What now?"
"This friend looks barely past twenty at a glance. You really must consider your own age, Nunim..."
Oh no.
Wow.
She's weighing whether to throw a punch right now, isn't she?
At this rate, we were going to get ourselves a Kraken Mk2, so I quickly interposed myself between them.
"Forgive the delayed introduction. I am Adam Caines, Finance Director of Grandis Academy."
"Mm. Sir Julius, Royal Knight Commander. My manner of speech is a touch flippant—I come from rather humble origins, so I ask your understanding."
He'd seen my surname and assumed I was a noble? I'd just borrowed the name from an economist offhand because I was headed into administration anyway.
It was a useful misunderstanding, so I let it pass without correction.
"I've heard you are a disciple of His Excellency Margrave Claudia. You must have much to reminisce about with the Chairwoman, but given the nature of the matter, I ask your forbearance."
"Not at all. I suppose seeing Nunim after so long has overexcited me. More than that, Finance Director—isn't the work difficult?"
"Pardon?"
"I mean, it can't be easy working under Nunim. Back when I traveled with my master, she said that besides hitting people, she knew absolutely nothing else..."
"I can hear everything, Julius."
"Hey, if I'm right beside you, how wouldn't you? The words are meant for your ears, Nunim."
"...It's been a while. I should contact my junior."
"I have committed a grave error."
Watching this, I understood.
Sir Julius knew far more about the Chairwoman than I had imagined.
Incidents from her traveling days, things from before she founded the academy—aspects of the Chairwoman I knew nothing about.
But that wasn't what mattered right now.
"Apologies for interrupting your reunion again, but I've heard that Sir Julius also lacks much leisure. May we proceed directly to the main topic?"
"Ah, er. My apologies, Finance Director. I shall listen with the utmost seriousness. Please speak."
"I'll summarize briefly. Sir Julius's disciple, whom you personally knighted—Kaern Deste—violated regulations during the midterm exam and exercised force upon an island in the Luftragina Archipelago owned by the Chairwoman."
"...Foolish brat."
"This incident produced a crater over thirty meters in diameter on the island, uprooted at least twenty trees, and caused various other damages. Detailed accounts may be found in this report."
Sir Julius's expression grew severe as he examined the report I handed him.
The Chairwoman had graciously permitted the use of her private territory for the midterm exam, and this fool had broken the prohibition on force and inflicted significant damage on the island.
It was a matter that reflected on the reputation of Sir Julius, who had recognized and knighted Kaern Deste.
The kind of thing people could legitimately whisper about—what possessed him to knight trash like that?
"In accordance with this, Grandis Academy would request of Sir Julius..."
"Compensation, then. I understand. First, allow me to apologize for my disciple's idiotic conduct."
Thud.
The Royal Knight Commander lowered his head against the desk with enough force to produce a sound.
It seemed somewhat uncouth, but the sincerity behind it exceeded mere appearances.
"As Kaern Deste's master and the one who knighted him, I feel responsible. My most sincere apologies."
"..."
"Therefore, as an expression of atonement... I shall provide training to the students of Grandis Academy free of charge. What say you?"
"...What?"
So, to be clear—
The Royal Knight Commander, whose official duties were endless, the strongest 7th Rank swordsman, was offering to personally come to the academy and give lectures for free?
At this unexpected proposal, I quietly turned my gaze toward the Chairwoman. She appeared rather surprised as well, nodding at me.
Good, the Chairwoman was thinking the same thing.
"We don't need it."
"F-Finance Director?"
"Finance Director?"
"We desire a different form of reparation."
I mean, what use are lectures? In a game, it might trigger a protagonist growth event or something, but here it's pointless. It doesn't help the finances at all.
Something else instead.
"A different form... then..."
"Naturally, compensation in currency. A rough estimate is available here."
"..."
Money. Hand over the money.
What are you trying to settle with your body for?