Reunion, However... (3)
The next day, the incident in the basement passed over surprisingly quietly. There was no actual damage to the dormitory building, and the first-year commoner freshmen who had gathered there left the scene without taking any further action. They just hoped they wouldn't be summoned by their seniors again—and their wish was granted.
We'd beaten Humpton half to death, but sadly, he never had any real friends to begin with, so no one cared about his injuries. No one was blabbing about what happened, so everyone just gossiped that Humpton must've done something stupid again and gotten his ass kicked.
The only potential worry was his lack of minions, but they seemed to have decided to keep their mouths shut too. Whether Humpton had quickly tied up loose ends or they'd been too terrified by the sight of me pounding on him, I couldn't say.
"Hey, did you feel that earthquake last night?"
"Huh? What happened?"
"The ground just started shaking all of a sudden."
"Even an earthquake leaves this building unscathed. Denebergen lives up to its name."
Thanks to that, the commotion seemed to fade away quietly. Of course, a few sharp students might've noticed that one of Denebergen's famous Seven Mysteries, the Door That Never Opens, had actually opened. But peeking inside wouldn't yield anything.
Because I took it all.
I tucked the dagger I'd grabbed yesterday into my pocket and sank into thought. Yustina's appearance was still hard to accept, and racking my brain wouldn't solve it right now. The only certainty was that someone had anticipated my arrival and left the dagger there. Its identity wasn't fully clear, but there were suspects.
Was Yustina trying to find me with this?
But there were still countless questions. The ancient script on the door was probably aimed straight at me—Yustina knew I could read it. Yet even a dragon couldn't predict I'd enroll at Denebergen Academy. Or had she known in advance that I'd reincarnate?
...No clue.
The more I thought, the more riddles piled up. As I frowned, debating whether to replay my memories again, someone knocked on my door.
"Young Master!"
I opened it to find Charlotte greeting me with a vibrant, bright smile—unlike yesterday. It was such a familiar scene that for a moment, I felt like I was back at the Lehinar estate, not Denebergen Academy.
She started to say something the instant she saw me, but I cut in first.
"Feeling better?"
"Pardon?"
"You got hurt yesterday."
Charlotte tilted her head slightly and forced her energy up a notch.
"I-I'm fine! Young Master, I'm tough by nature! A good night's sleep and I'm all better!"
"Really?"
True to her word, she looked perfectly fine on the outside. No bruises, no signs of fatigue. Having seen that body slam firsthand, I couldn't fathom how she recovered so effortlessly.
"And I was able to help yesterday—that's reward enough."
"Saying that just makes me feel guiltier."
"Ah, ahaha! I'm a Lehinar family servant. Do with me as you please, Young Master!"
I nodded ambiguously, a mix of emotions swirling. Our family's servants took pride in serving the Lehinars, but Charlotte was on another level. It wasn't lip service; she acted like a tool or piece of furniture, ready for anything in service to us. Admirable, yet burdensome—and I'd grown so accustomed that I sometimes took her devotion for granted.
The person always by your side is the most precious.
I reaffirmed the lesson from my past life.
"Oh, right, Young Master. I forgot what I came to say the moment I saw you. How could I!"
"What is it?"
Perhaps noticing the gloom on my face, she flashed a wide smile to lighten the mood.
"Classes start for us today!"
As my sister Luisa had said, Denebergen Academy's curriculum was remarkably solid and systematic. The unique part was that students could tailor their learning path however they wanted.
It was divided broadly into the Magic Department and Combat Department, but Magic didn't mean only magic classes, nor Combat only combat. More like fused education.
"Ugh, is this really the best schedule? Maybe I should've asked the young miss for advice..."
"No, stop. If you ask my sister, your timetable will be packed with combat classes."
Some students balanced magic and combat lectures; others, like Luisa, filled theirs entirely with one side. Plus, the liberal arts courses had intriguing titles, making it feel like picking treats at a feast.
Charlotte and I both belonged to the Magic Department but mixed in combat and magic classes for our schedules. Thus, our first glorious class at Denebergen was Basic Magic, exclusive to first-years.
"Ugh, I really suck at fighting... I'm worried about combat class days."
"That's why we learn. Don't stress. Focus on the magic class starting soon."
"Right. Let's grab seats quick. Young Master must be looking forward to combat more, huh?"
"Me? Eh..."
Contrary to Charlotte's guess, I had little expectation for combat lectures. Even after 500 years, how much could hand-to-hand fighting have advanced? I hadn't tested it yet, but with stamina, I could take most professors. If some revolutionary technique had emerged, I'd just learn it and level up—no big deal.
"I'm more excited for magic, actually."
"Really?"
"Learning what you don't know is more fun than repeating what you're good at."
Magic lectures personally thrilled me. 500 years ago, magic held immense prestige. Mages were still respected today, but back then, they were treated like divine proxies—reserved for talented high nobles.
Now, magic infused everyday life via magitech gadgets and magic scrolls.
The world has changed.
In my past life, I was an orphan street rat. A normal city kid until a pig of a noble took my mother, leading to my father's death and my solitude. Without Uncle Philbert, I'd have starved on the streets.
But now, talent trumped birthright; academies and mage towers vied for prospects regardless of status. Proof: about 40% of this lecture hall's students were commoners. Charlotte, with her innate magic aptitude, was one.
That's why magic made me feel the world's shift most acutely.
"Oh! Deneb, you're already here?"
"Yozef. Where've you been?"
"Just the bathroom. Perfect, empty seat."
"Yeah. Sit here."
Meanwhile, as other seats filled up, the one to my left stayed vacant. We'd arrived early for prime spots, yet freshmen avoided this area. I couldn't pinpoint why, but my sharp instincts told me they were subtly shunning the seat beside me.
Because I'm close to Yozef? Nah, that doesn't make sense.
No rational reason came to mind—it was baffling. Maybe just my imagination. Yozef arriving late actually worked out, letting him take it.
"Hmm, wait a sec, Deneb."
"What?"
"Something feels off. About the seat next to you."
"My left seat?"
Yozef rushed over like he would sit, then halted before it, staring intently at the chair with a serious expression. What kind of show was this? But he seemed genuinely earnest. Had someone left a stain?
"Looks fine on the surface, but something..."
"Then this one shall take it. If it's no imposition."
As Yozef hesitated, a white-haired girl appeared from behind, shoved him aside, and plopped down. Yozef, Charlotte, and I all blinked in surprise.
Part of it was her claiming the avoided seat; part was snatching it mid-hesitation. But mainly...
She's beautiful.
She captivated everyone with her looks alone. Hair white as winter snowdrifts, skin pure and translucent. Large eyes evoking a serene lake, framed by long lashes that lent her an air of mystery.
Moderate beauty might spark jealousy or crushes. But here, girls instinctively sensed her otherworldly nature; boys knew she was beyond them. I felt much the same, with one addition.
...She looks just like her.
Chills prickled my arms. The child Yustina from 500-year-old memories. The adult Yustina's back in the Trial of Terror. Even her archaic speech matched, despite one word.
Of course, Yustina could polymorph freely, so human form was malleable...
"Why stare so intently? Has this one bewitched thee?"
Oh no—I'd been gawking rudely without realizing. Feeling like I'd committed a grave sin, I turned forward. But even as Yozef scratched his head and sat elsewhere, I kept glancing at the white-haired girl.
Safe now?
Then, sneaking another peek—Eek...! The girl who'd scolded my staring was now craning her neck, fixating on my face. Not subtly—blatantly, analyzing every feature like a laser from her eyes.
"Hmmmmmm..."
The Yustina-lookalike narrowed her eyes, dissecting my face with an incomprehensible groan. As she lifted from her seat, leaning close enough to kiss my cheek, I couldn't hold back.
"Um... do you... need to ask something?"
"Hmph."
She said nothing, just returned to her seat and crossed her arms.
"...?"
"Young Master...?"
Perplexed by her antics, Charlotte and I exchanged glances and tilted our heads. Charlotte seemed spooked by the odd behavior; for me, it was different.
All my senses screamed she was no ordinary girl—emergency alert.
Yustina...?
My heart pounded wildly.