I Re-enrolled

I re-enrolled.

The dormitory was empty.

Everyone had probably gone off to lectures.

A four-person room, huh.

For all that Arcana Academy was the empire's undisputed premier educational institution, Gimel Dormitory — the lowest rung of the ladder — was little better than a pigsty.

Then again, students without powerful backing or talent were always treated like leftovers at Arcana Academy. That was a truth I'd learned bone-deep during my year of study here in the past.

Tsk.

I clicked my tongue and unpacked my things onto an unclaimed bed. All I owned was some cash and a spare uniform.

The name tag on the uniform was embroidered with the affiliation Special Task Force and the codename Solo.

A relic of the past — something I'd never wear or use again.

"What? Dischaaaaarge?!"

Even now, the captain's shriek still rang in my ears — the one she'd let out when I told her I was mustering out after a full two years of service. Those sharp, foxlike eyes of hers had gone round as saucers; I could still picture exactly how stunned she'd been.

"You're going back to the Academy? Why the hell would you return to that fucking place?!"

I felt bad for the captain, but I had my reasons.

If I didn't want to die, I had to go back to the Academy and graduate.

What kind of rigged bullshit was this? I'd been in this world for years without a single thing happening, and then out of nowhere a status window just pops up? And without even stats or skills as a consolation prize?

Give me a break.

As you might have guessed, I'm not from this world. I used to be an ordinary young man living in twenty-first-century South Korea — until the day I blacked out and woke up as the son of a destitute noble house.

Jade Netherpike.

That was my real name before I operated as Solo of the Special Task Force, and the name I'd have to use again from now on.

And as I said, the Netherpikes were a destitute family. More precisely, a ruined house that barely even counted as nobility. But they still ruled a territory, so under the principle of primogeniture I was treated like a useless burden. Left as I was, either my so-called elder brother would kill me or I'd have to leave of my own accord — which is why I chose the Academy.

Wrong choice.

As the saying goes, there's no paradise waiting where you run. This place was hell for me — bad enough that I found myself missing the days of eating cold leftovers under hostile stares back at the family estate.

The Academy clung ruthlessly to pure meritocracy. And the problem, as I already mentioned, was that I had zero special privileges. Naturally, as the son of a destitute noble house, I had neither the talent to blossom nor the money to paper over my shortcomings.

Spending my freshman year under relentless contempt and persecution was the inevitable result. Eventually, convinced I couldn't survive the remaining three years and graduate in one piece, I enlisted.

Well. Running away from the place I'd already run to — but at least my lot improved compared to before.

Improved… right?

Yeah. It definitely improved.

My posting in the north was cold enough to freeze your bones, but at least there I could earn my own keep, and — though I never asked for it — I even earned some recognition from the people around me. A large part of that was thanks to the captain, who for reasons unknown scooped up a talentless, unremarkable guy like me and dragged me into the Special Task Force.

And so I spent my days ranging across the battlefield alongside the captain and a handful of Special Task Force comrades.

One thing, though — don't get the wrong idea. When I say we ranged across the battlefield, I don't mean we tore through enemy lines like some legendary war god. Given the nature of our missions, we didn't operate on the front lines. We weren't supposed to.

Most of what we did was intelligence work — counter-espionage, reconnaissance, that sort of thing. Stick your neck out carelessly and you'd end up dead in a ditch. Sounds incredibly dangerous when put that way, but as you can see, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm still here with all my limbs attached. That, too, was largely thanks to the captain's absurd competence.

Anyway. The grueling war eventually ended in our side's victory, and by a stroke of luck I'd managed to complete my full term of service. So I submitted my discharge papers right away.

In a world where dying before you even hit the halfway mark of your service was the norm, two years of duty got you a lifelong pension. That had been the plan from the start.

Which is why I clawed and scraped to stay alive no matter what.

For some reason the captain wanted to keep me even after the war ended, but after repeated persuasion she finally granted my discharge. A few conditions got tacked on during the negotiations, but nothing I needed to worry about right away.

At any rate, with my discharge secured, I thought all that remained was a quiet life somewhere in the peaceful countryside…

…only for this notification to drop on me out of nowhere.

And so I put my peaceful retirement on hold and came here. Hey — I still have to live, don't I?

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Once I'd finished unpacking, I headed straight for the principal's office. She'd summoned me for a meeting before I officially re-enrolled.

"Welcome, Jade."

The new principal who'd taken office in the two years I'd been gone looked, at a glance, like a short girl who wouldn't even reach my shoulder. Maybe that was why the formal speech didn't feel awkward at all coming from her.

"Did you know you're the first person who hasn't been surprised upon seeing me?"

"…I've witnessed more than my share of strange things on the front lines."

There were two possibilities. Either she was an unprecedented genius who'd risen to the principalship at that age, or she'd mastered transcendent magic that freed her from the constraints of lifespan.

"I suppose that makes sense. As you may already know, I am Muriel, Principal of Arcana Academy."

The principal — Muriel — swept her abundant blonde hair back from beneath her pointed wizard hat and chuckled softly. Hehe.

"I skimmed through your file before you arrived. Your record is truly impressive."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the entries that were presumably listed on the paper detailing my personal history began spilling out one after another.

"VIP assassination, intelligence gathering, facility destruction, hostage rescue, codebreaking…"

It was almost embarrassing to listen to. That was simply the kind of work the Special Task Force did — and more importantly—

"My commanding officer was exceptionally capable."

—because in practical terms, I hadn't done much of anything. Most of our missions had essentially been the captain's solo carry.

If this world were a novel someone had written, she would probably be the protagonist. She was that extraordinary. No — "extraordinary" didn't even cover it.

If you set aside how peculiar her personality is.

That was her one real flaw, I supposed.

Then she said it.

"Right. How has Octavia been?"

Octavia was the Special Task Force captain's real name. The number of people who knew it could be counted on one hand…

"You know the captain, ma'am?"

"Very well. Hehe. We're closer than you'd think."

"…Is that so?"

For someone supposedly close, the captain had never said a single word about her. From the start, the person who'd been trash-talking the Academy as a "fucking place" was the captain of the Special Task Force herself.

Which was exactly why I wasn't letting my guard down now.

Of course, I was well aware that the mage smiling harmlessly in front of me in the form of a young girl was so far above my level that someone like me barely registered as a speck. But habits don't die easily — especially ones honed for survival. Call it an occupational disease.

"In any case, I sincerely welcome you back to the Academy, Jade. Fortunately, there are plenty of deferred graduates and students who've been held back, so you should make friends in no time."

That particular concern didn't worry me in the slightest. I'd re-enrolled once before, in my previous life.

Come to think of it, this is the second time.

Doing this twice… it really fucking sucked.

Besides, what actually worried me was something else. "Plenty of deferred graduates and students who've been held back" meant graduating was a nightmare of difficulty.

But—

I survived the front lines. How much harder could this be?

It was doable. More than doable.

The Academy's curriculum was similar to a real-world university. Broadly speaking: majors and general education. Majors were subdivided according to each student's talent, and general education covered everything else.

"If you'd like to change your major, just make a personal request to the dean of whichever department. They'll arrange a test for you."

After reviewing my record, Muriel had advised that I take something other than my original major.

Swordsmanship really doesn't suit me, true enough.

In practice, swordsmanship was the major most no-talent students defaulted to. Unlike magic, which you couldn't even begin to learn without mana affinity, a sword only required that you be able to swing it. Of course, handling weapons still demanded aura talent. The close-combat masters I'd seen on the battlefield had all been monsters capable of reshaping heaven and earth with their aura…

There was a reason people said highly refined martial arts rivaled magic.

For now, I'd sit through the general education lectures I needed to attend immediately and figure out a new major later.

"Ugh, I'm so tired. I didn't sleep a wink last night because of the assignment."

"Why do they pile on so much work? It's insane."

"Shh, the professor will hear you."

The classroom scene — students chatting among themselves — looked almost absurdly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠peaceful to someone who'd been dancing along the edge of death until just recently. It also stirred a nostalgic ache. It was so similar to my university days in my previous life.

If I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had to name one clear difference, it would be the blatant class hierarchy and ranking system that existed here.

Clomp. Clomp.

A group of students entered the lecture hall, and the others warily cleared a path. Then another clique appeared, and another, and the rest scattered like shrimp caught between whales.

Roughly four factions. What they were divided by, I'd have to watch a little longer to figure out.

Well, it's obvious enough.

Talent or wealth, no doubt.

In a place this much like the wild, the stance I needed to take was only one: stay quiet. Be present without being noticed. To graduate safely, the best approach was to avoid drawing unnecessary attention — and that was something a Special Task Force veteran like me excelled at more than anyone.

So if I got tangled up in those faction wars—

?

A sudden presence made me whip my head around. The student who'd been about to speak to me flinched instead.

She was a beauty with platinum-blonde hair brighter than Muriel's — nearly silver — and blue eyes.

"…Yes?"

I kept it polite, at least. She might be one of those deferred graduates or held-back students Muriel had mentioned. High odds she was a noble, too.

But even though I'd dialed it back to avoid sounding too military, my voice still came out rather stiff. Judging by the way her face immediately twisted in irritation, she'd taken it poorly.

She snapped at me.

"This is my seat."

…Ah. Right.

I hadn't realized it was taken.