The Academy Slave Instructor
The Academy Slave Instructor
“So Miss Mia is still fuming and hasn’t accepted Instructor Aslan’s apology yet.”
Philia chuckled softly. “I would’ve been furious too, you know.”
Aria gave a small smile in response to Zeroa’s remark.
Zeroa secretly clenched his fists. He was thrilled that his story had landed perfectly.
Aria was the most popular student at the academy, but her overwhelming popularity meant almost no one dared to approach her.
Even though she had been a new student for quite some time, there was still not a single classmate she had befriended.
After the fanatic group had dragged away the first-year who had boldly tried to get close to her with nothing but sheer stubbornness, everyone else had grown wary of doing the same.
Incidentally, the very next day after being taken away by the fans, that new student had become an enthusiastic fan and joined their ranks.
Because of this, Aria found herself genuinely enjoying Zeroa’s stories about Mia every single time he mentioned her.
Zeroa, in turn, loved her reactions so much that their conversations had become almost entirely centered on Mia lately.
“I’d really like to meet Miss Mia someday.”
“Come over to Instructor Rai’s place anytime—I’m always with her.”
Therla, the stoic knight who stood watch around Aria as if she were invisible to the rest of the world, shook her head at Zeroa’s words.
She had been watching this love story unfold for a year and a half now, and seeing those two so hopelessly stuck made her want to eat a million sweet potatoes just to drown the frustration.
Honestly, watching someone as completely ordinary as Zeroa made it impossible to understand why Aria would spend time with him.
Yet the men who did try to get close either gave up immediately or were snatched away by the fanatics before they could even move.
Therla, a fully armored knight who secretly obsessed over romance novels, wanted nothing more than for Zeroa to be bolder and claim his chance.
She had been dying to see Aria blush, grab her cheeks in embarrassment, twist her body cutely, prepare a handmade meal, or write a love letter—and instead she was stuck watching Aria fumble through every stage of the process.
Because of Duke Andres’s overprotective nature, Aria was stuck in this awkward limbo: too shy to pursue anyone, yet unable to let go of the one person who might actually be worth it.
The thought of the academy’s—or rather, the entire empire’s—topmost lady gossiping about some other woman was enough to make Therla’s blood boil.
‘I’d rather get beheaded than keep my mouth shut! A man without backbone, a man without backbone!’
If that ever actually happened, she would be dragged before the Duke for at least ten years of punishment, but Therla was so frustrated she wanted to scream until her throat bled.
Zeroa, completely unaware of her internal monologue, continued with a slightly dejected expression.
“Ah, the marching training is in three days, so I probably won’t be back until then. Mia has to come back safely, right?”
“I’ll make sure he returns safely,” Aria replied, her eyes shining with determination.
‘Uwaaaaaaaaah!’
On the quiet academy street, lit by flickering streetlamps, the two of them sat on a bench as an unapproachable couple.
They were chatting about some other girl—the one person they both knew wasn’t there—while Therla, who looked perfectly calm on the surface, was screaming a mixed chorus of panic and jealousy inside her head.
Normally Zeroa led the conversation and Aria answered, so long silences fell between them more often than not.
Zeroa was not exactly a great talker either, so when silence hit, he would panic and his brain would spin for what to say next, while Aria would quietly eat the snacks she had brought and stay lost in thought.
‘Race, race, race! What now? Tomorrow is the race!’
Therla sent a desperate telepathic scream toward Zeroa, but he never received it.
“Ah! So tomorrow really is the race. Time flies, doesn’t it?”
Zeroa finally picked up on her frantic hint and started talking about the Saint Philaretos Equestrian Tournament.
Aria’s eyes sparkled with genuine interest—the longest she had spent casually interacting with any academy students since she had arrived.
Training side by side in sweat and exhaustion had been great, and even the short chats with Cuthbert or other students had been enjoyable.
After spending so much time training together, Aria nodded with expectation.
“Yes, everyone has been working so hard.”
“It’s true. It must be exhausting and busy right now, and none of them have skipped even a single session.”
‘Eeeeee!!!!’
Seeing Aria’s eyes glimmer with anticipation, Therla pumped her fist inside her helmet and let out a silent cheer.
She had applied for the escort duty specifically to watch that expression, and she had trained until she vomited blood just to beat all the other competitors.
Both of them turned to look at her, but Therla quickly straightened her face into something more dignified and solemn.
“Is there something you need, Miss?”
“...No. It’s nothing.”
The two of them exchanged puzzled glances and turned away again, resuming their conversation.
Stories about Cuthbert’s ridiculous antics or other students’ compliments became the center of their chat.
Aria, slightly excited, spoke up more actively than usual, and Zeroa naturally responded to every word.
They talked for far longer than usual that day, and their conversation never once stopped until they finally had to separate so Aria could prepare for the race the next day.
Therla, watching them from the shadows, traced her finger down her nose with a satisfied smile.
***
Saint Philaretos.
The official name of the academy’s equestrian tournament.
It sounded grand, but in reality it meant nothing.
At the very beginning, when the tournament was first held, the Philaretos family had donated the most money, and the academy principal had simply named the event after them to flatter the noble house.
It was an event from the academy’s early days, and the Philaretos family had long since disappeared, yet the name still lived on through the tournament.
“Rai-kang! Here you are!”
Cesset waved enthusiastically as she rushed over to Rai.
“What? How did you even know?”
“How do you even ask that? Just look at you! Sunglasses and a beard? Did you go to some mask dance party?”
Rai’s appearance with sunglasses and a beard looked suspicious at first glance.
The Saint Philaretos was one of the few events at the academy that was open to the outside world.
Even when it was open, only students and those connected to them could enter, so it was never truly public.
Normally it was families visiting to see how their children had grown and chatting with instructors.
Among the families, there were even some who knew Rai—such as Cesset’s grandfather—so he had been forced to wear a disguise.
Since his assigned instructor couldn’t leave her post, Rai couldn’t openly change into a woman or alter his appearance, and had no choice but to show up looking like this.
“The beard? It’s natural-looking, isn’t it?”
“The hair-growth tonic I bought the other day was… wait, wait, the beard is falling off!”
She swatted Rai’s arm away as he tried to grab his beard and straightened his clothes.
Cesset pressed herself close and whispered, “So, who did you bet on?”
It didn’t matter if Rai had done something suspicious or not—that was not Cesset’s concern.
Her only interest was predicting the winner for the bet.
“Short race: Diana. Mid-distance: Delia. Team battle: Team C. The rest I didn’t bet on because they were too close.”
“Oh my god. You bet on Team C for the team event?”
She was the instructor for Team A yet still betting on Team C’s victory. And the 10-person small-scale mounted combat event was one she herself would be supervising.
Despite her disappointment, Cesset’s mind was already spinning calculations again.
“What about Team D?”
“That kid probably has no chance of winning.”
“Ehehe—after just a little over a month of practice? Does that even make sense? They’re not the only ones who trained hard. That’s that, and this is this. Business is cold, you know.”
Even Cesset hadn’t expected Team C to win the team event.
She had been constantly comparing the teams’ strength while preparing, so her prediction was especially reliable.
‘Why the hell are all those freaks entering the team event?’
She hadn’t expected them to win either.
After checking the other teams’ strength for the tournament, she had realized how far ahead they were in skill.
Take Team C, for example—they had Violet. Team D had Sozeta.
Both of the Millennium Geniuses were in the small team.
Even if Violet couldn’t ride well because she was a sword idiot, Sozeta was an excellent rider, so Cesset had bet on Team D’s victory early on.
No matter how well you strategized, if those two showed up in the front lines swinging their swords, at least four people would have to be taken out. The gap was simply too large.
Team A was average at best and had no realistic chance of winning, especially without Aria.
“Team C’s strategy was ruthless. They used Violet to the absolute maximum.”
“Really? I didn’t get to see what she does during practice.”
“You’ll understand when you watch.”
After a moment of thought, Cesset placed her bet anyway.
Of course, she had bet on Team C for the small team event.
While they were discussing the bet, Zeroa stood frozen, unable to move or speak.
“U-um… excuse me…?”
Even after Zeroa spoke, the middle-aged man stared coldly at him, silently telling him to shut up.
The dignified eyes quietly silenced the timid Zeroa.
The man circled around him, scanning every inch of the area.
Zeroa glanced at the man with a blank expression as he approached and began inspecting him.
His clothes looked expensive, and the accessories were beautifully crafted. His neatly trimmed mustache was perfectly groomed, and his thick eyebrows suggested a stern personality.
Four guards surrounded him.
Zeroa could sense their overwhelming strength just from the way they stood there without any visible aura.
Among the people Zeroa had met in his short life, the strongest two were Rai and Bright.
Rai had shown him strength that defied belief with his own eyes.
Bright had demonstrated unbelievable magical power while chasing Rai.
Right below them were students like Violet or Sozeta, so Zeroa’s experience with true strong opponents was limited.
But these four people, just by standing there, placed them right below Rai and Bright.
Who were they to command such power? At the same time, Zeroa felt growing fear at why they were looking at him.
The middle-aged man carefully studied Zeroa.
He stared into his face as if glaring, then crouched down to lift his clothes and check underneath.
When he crouched with legs spread wide, Zeroa had even imagined it was Rai.
“Tsk. Rejected.”
The man frowned and shook his head.
Zeroa stood there, confused, until Aria suddenly came running over in panic.
Both the man and Zeroa looked at her with friendly smiles, but Aria, blushing fiercely, clung to the man.
“O-Oh, Aria, I… ah, ah? Why? Why, why are you doing this?”
Aria punched the man’s shoulder without a word and shoved him away.
Each time she pushed, the man was sent flying back like nothing.
Soon he was standing far from Zeroa again.
The four guards, apparently used to this, moved to keep their distance without changing expression.
While Zeroa stood there blankly watching the man and Aria separate, someone approached him and spoke.
“I’m sorry, Zeroa. He was looking for you so much.”
“Eh…? Uh… who was that…?”
“Oh my, did you not even introduce yourselves?”
The noblewoman covering her mouth looked surprised.
Zeroa recognized her instantly from her familiar dark blue-black hair that looked as if it could drink in the night sky.
Through Aria he knew exactly who she was.
“I am Iliana Shane Bricqueville. Please forgive my husband’s rudeness, Duke Andres Shane Bricqueville.”
Iliana curtsied and lifted her skirt slightly as she apologized.
When the academy’s top young lady’s mother bowed her head, Zeroa panicked and scrambled.
“Ah, no! Uh, I mean, Aria’s…”
“Yes, she is my daughter. Thank you for being so friendly with my little girl, Zeroa.”
“N-No, I just… I’m a commoner, so please speak casually with me…”
“Hey, kid! Get over here!”
Duke Andres shouted from behind, but Aria immediately covered his mouth and shoved him farther back.
“Ignore what he said. He’s just jealous that I’m friendly with Zeroa, who knows me well.”
“Y-Yes…”
No one in the empire would dare ignore a Duke’s jealousy, especially not the most powerful one among the few Dukes—the Bricqueville Duke.
His words could not be ignored even by the Emperor’s own children, so Zeroa had no chance of feeling at ease.
Iliana smiled as she watched Aria, still struggling to push her own father away, her face burning with embarrassment.
Her gaze toward Zeroa was neither dismissive nor cold.
Zeroa, lost in the warm and gentle look, forgot what he was supposed to say and simply stared back before suddenly snapping out of it and lowering his eyes.
“Zeroa.”
At the sound of her voice, Zeroa looked up like he had been hypnotized.
“Can I ask you one more favor?”
“Yes… it’s fine.”
“Please keep being friendly with my daughter from now on. I worried so much when I sent her to the academy because she didn’t know how to make friends. But I’m glad you’re here.”
“I-I’m just… we’re in the same class…”
Zeroa scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward.
From far away, Duke Andres’s voice boomed that he too had entered the academy and would be in the same class, but neither of them seemed to hear it.
Iliana smiled softly at the shy but kind-looking young man.