Cornerstone for the Academy (2)
Afternoon. After skimming through the Imperial Newspaper, I packed my preparations for the trip to the Elf Forest and headed to my father's study.
"You look like you have something to say. About the Elf Forest—is there more I need to know?"
"I told you everything about the elves at dawn."
I laid out everything I knew about the elves to my father, just as it was.
The guardian of this era needs to know as well. It's fine to tell him. In fact, it's good that I don't have to repeat myself. This has the Platinum Mirror's permission.
"This visit isn't about the elves—it's about the academy."
"The academy..."
The academy.
"The empire has been laying the groundwork for the academy for a long time."
"When you were ten, there was that time a district in the capital was redeveloped and people got pushed out, right?"
"Morgania had already joined hands with the empire behind the scenes by then."
"So we've just squeezed in by placing one chair there ourselves."
The empire's first foothold, built over long years of effort to promote exchange with the kingdom. Under the banner of harmony for future generations, the empire had established a 'peace' image across the entire kingdom's populace.
"The public justification lies with the empire."
We had hitched a ride on the academy, but it was an unstoppable tide of fate.
"They extend a hand of peace first, and it's too rash to slap it away..."
"Already, starting from Seirene Port, too much money has flowed in."
"Yes. Just like how Iferia is showering massive supplies everywhere."
The empire viewed the academy as the core of the war.
"Father. The empire's exchange students are, bluntly put, all spies."
"......"
"They'll play pivotal roles in the kingdom-empire war later."
The war did break out.
"They'll subtly spread the differences between the empire and kingdom, propagating against the incompetent king."
"Not propagation—just stating facts, isn't it?"
"The kingdom nobles can't say what they want due to royal authority, but they spit it out refreshingly, and that becomes propaganda against Saint Geo."
A catalyst igniting open discontent with the incompetent king, once hushed up. No need to even compare to the terrifyingly competent Tersian imperial family.
"They'll imply indirectly: for Nostrum's people to be happy, Saint Geo must disappear."
"It's tempting. Even I'm swayed like this—imagine the people."
"Down with Saint Geo. Depose Saint Geo. Guillotine the incompetent king."
The war's justification was 'removing the incompetent king.'
"To put it crudely, 'If that bastard weren't there, we could live like empire citizens.' That's what everyone will think."
"True enough. True, and that's what makes it scary."
The empire citizens' lives, gradually spreading through the empire's students.
"Even the goods coming in from the canyon outlets—among us Gibraltars, plenty want to emulate the empire and its culture."
Magitech engineering, alchemy, mechanical advancements bringing convenience—these had become objects of envy and aspiration for many commoners. And Gibraltar was enjoying them a bit ahead of schedule right now.
"In Seirene, thalers are already in use. Gold for small trades, but forward-thinkers are stockpiling thalers in warehouses."
"No interest from banks or anything."
"Even a few percent interest—they're convinced it'll multiply in two or three years. Thaler trading."
The time when people's minds begin to open: Isn't living under the empire better?
"If the empire starts the war, they'll say they're only removing the incompetent king."
And without tormenting or plundering the people while doing so.
"They'll attach letters to the exchange students promising not to touch nobles' status, assets, or lives."
"Entering alone for the sake of academy friends and their territories and folk."
"Yes. They'll see it as their mission. With the resolve to reform these barbaric kingdom folk."
At the forefront were the academy exchange students.
"Three years. Enough time to make friends, surpassing 500 years of enmity, no?"
"Studying together at the academy naturally breeds best friends."
"The empire will send only those easy to befriend."
The empire's exchange students forged ties with kingdom nobles who would become key figures, persuading high ranks by putting these students at the front.
"Like sending Grand Princess Astasia von Tersian to enchant Grey Gibraltar—they're probably debating which exchange student to assign per noble house right now."
"......"
Just as the empire deployed Astasia von Tersian for a 1:1 mark on me, every exchange student had their persuasion target.
"Take, say, the heir of Marquis Roland's house. An outgoing, sturdy guy... like Sir Carlos."
"Wouldn't clash with Pelwood Marquis's heir's temperament?"
"He might change personality overnight to catch up to an admired friend."
"Hm."
Father hadn't grasped it yet, but that was normal. Current Pelwood Roland looked like a frail boy.
"Someone like Sir Carlos—cares only about muscle training, nothing else."
"That's who they send. Some will know they're spies, but maybe one or two out of ten."
This was the empire's terror.
"Ones who genuinely tour the kingdom, make friends, and when war breaks—stake their lives for those friends, approaching the gates as peace envoys."
"...They might die."
"They will. Six or seven out of ten will die before their friends. By their fathers, the titled nobles."
It happened often.
'So many stories of empire friends from the academy murdered by their own fathers.'
Roommates bickering daily, then approaching as peace envoys with white flags—only for those flags to soak in blood, wrapping corpses as shrouds.
I was a slight exception—
Margrave. Though he's dead beyond even recovering the body, how about a memorial? Once a year at least.
On someone's suggestion, joint memorials for them were held annually in the canyon. Academy alumni gathered to share stories each time.
"...Many will die. But those deaths might let the empire conquer the kingdom."
"That's..."
"Assuming Gibraltar opens the gates for the empire."
"Hm."
All assumptions rested on Gibraltar becoming the empire's ally.
"Even Gibraltar sided with the empire— you should too. That's the most persuasive justification."
"Yes."
Strongest on the continent. Father was reliable as an ally, but most terrifying as an enemy.
"Gibraltar sided with the empire. Seeing Father or me move with imperial troops—gates will open without persuasion."
Local nobles did open gates upon hearing the news. Before those who didn't judge by rumors alone, I showed my face personally, and quite a few opened then.
"Good. You've spoken of this academy several times before."
Father pulled out a stack of papers from a desk drawer.
"Like laying a major premise for war, you set one for the academy too."
Not parchment, but crisp, thin paper imported from the empire—a thick bundle.
"In the case you're not entering as a student."
"Yes."
"...The academy is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You're really not attending?"
"Yes."
Not me entering the academy as a student.
"I plan to support it."
"Support?"
"With money."
"...Specifically how?"
"That's a surprise gift for later. Right now, who to send to the academy matters."
Grey Gibraltar doesn't enroll in the academy as a student.
But someone from Gibraltar must.
"Send Noir, Father."
"......"
"Isn't he perfect? The brother going to the academy in place of his incompetent elder."
"Doesn't that clash with this plan?"
Father drew out a plan from a red folder in the papers.
"Can't call him incompetent."
"Militarily, perhaps not. But no matter how excellent administratively, in this kingdom, the sword trumps law."
"...Understood."
The papers Father pulled already bore his red seal. Pre-approved plan.
"A pity. Feels like you're always undermining your own evaluations."
"It's fine."
He asked again out of regret.
"Good. Then let's pinpoint the biggest issue in your plan."
Father held up two fingers.
"The academy's official opening is in two years, March. When you turn seventeen."
"Yes. Graduate at twenty, adulthood."
The academy starts in March, ends the following February—a one-year term.
"Naria Geo Nostrum enters first-year at seventeen, and Grand Princess Astasia von Tersian comes as a seventeen-year-old first-year exchange student."
"Yes."
"Funded by imperial capital, the academy is strictly grade-based."
Father took a blank paper, scrawling large with a quill: 'Currently 15, in two years 17.'
"No chance for non-seventeens."
"Yes."
"Noir is three years younger than you."
"So he'd be fourteen then."
"...A contradiction, no? Or what are you thinking?"
"Naturally, a groundbreaking exception shattering the contradiction—and the average privilege mindset of Nostrum nobles."
I formed a circle with my fingers.
"Special Admission System."
"......"
"Age doesn't matter. For anyone eager to learn, form special classes."
I listed words beside Father's paper.
"Status. Age. Parents' occupation. Origin. Hometown."
In short, 'indiscriminate.' Or 'equality.'
"Transcending all that, select solely by 'talent' via special exams. Limit to 10% of total enrollment."
"...Money's a talent too?"
"Talent of good parents. Talent of wealthy house."
A common empire saying, one even Hapsburg von Tersian wouldn't deny.
"All humans are born unequal. A frequent Imperial Newspaper editorial."
"Talent, huh. Bitter reality."
"But reality."
No one starts from the same line.
"Noir Gibraltar passes special admission first solely on the Gibraltar name."
"...Ha."
Father let out a hollow laugh.
"The special admission system doesn't even exist yet?"
"That's why we can craft it meticulously."
"Creating such a system just to enroll Noir instead of you?"
"Hide the needle in the haystack or not—need some justification."
Properly divvy privileges and favors to avoid backlash.
"And it ties closely to Nostrum's universal ideology."
"...Hero supremacy?"
"Yes. Opportunity open to all. Who knows? A commoner might knock and emerge a hero."
"If a hero arises, and an imperial spy exchange student befriends and lures to the empire?"
"Even then, at least no loyalty oath to Saint Geo Nostrum."
"......"
Father rubbed his chin, twisting his lips.
"Special admission. Better than expected. But hand such talents to the empire on a platter?"
"No. For that, Gibraltar invests massively. A sort of stake."
"Stake?"
"Yes, Father. The orphanage kids—more useful than thought, right?"
"Bringing up the orphanage suddenly—you planning to use them at the academy?"
"That's part, but also perceptual."
Father had one realization from the orphanage.
"Investing in human resources may seem valueless for years, but directing for returns makes it highly efficient."
"Noir's guard... Dark Knights reserve trainees. And Ethan Sezar."
Currently, outside, Noir and thirteen knight candidates sweated, rolling on the ground.
"Results?"
"Noir hit intermediate knight entry right after you left. The other thirteen match low knight at your peers' ages."
"Ethan Sezar?"
"Hides it, but he's intermediate."
Father pulled a report from the drawer.
"I get daily updates on knight candidates; orphanage kids from Director Merrily. You know best..."
"More talents than expected. Or rather, we unearthed them somehow."
One hundred canyon kids.
"Even those with zero visible talent—we found 'selfish kid who annoys others just by existing' as a talent."
"That's stretching 'talent'..."
"Sometimes incompetence is talent, Father."
Becoming the enemy helps allies greatly at times.
"Father, I dare propose. For the new academy, Gibraltar claims this position."
I flipped the paper dense with writing, inking one word on the back.
Canyon Scholarship.
"......"
"Thanks to the orphanage, Gibraltar built an image as philanthropic patrons raising poor, struggling kids. Time to expand it."
Outreach expansion.
"The poor struggling with studies. Top scorers. Model behavior. Those with two generations above as Nostrum soldiers, active or retired. Roughly those—semester scholarships."
I didn't know who heroes were, but.
"Yes, justification. Pick scholars, then fit any excuse for plaques, certificates, pocket money."
Talented traitors aplenty. Cheap to use when needed, disposable rags after—weak to strong, betrayers par excellence.
"Gibraltar will produce 'Canyon Scholars.'"