The Dawn of White Spring (1)
[Unified Calendar Year 97, March 1st. 7 AM. Orosol Academy Great Hall 'Hall of the Sun' waiting room.]
"Move it, move it! Double-check the procession route!"
"Make sure the schedule's perfect! One slip-up and we're all dead!"
The academy staff in their uniforms—sharp black suits—scurried about in a frenzy. They positioned one person like a mannequin, forcing them through motions as if rehearsing the entire inauguration ceremony, with attendants shadowing every step.
"Ha."
In the waiting room, overlooking the central hall and the podium beyond, a black-haired woman—Carmen Morgania—let out a weary sigh.
"I told you to get some sleep early."
"How could I on a night like this?"
Behind Queen Carmen, an elderly man in platinum robes—Winchester Grand Duke—chuckled heartily and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Grand Duke."
"It's fine. Thanks to Caroline lately, my mana is overflowing."
"And your vitality isn't overflowing in the same way?"
"Ahem."
Whoosh.
White mana flowed from Winchester Grand Duke's shoulder, seeping into Carmen's body.
"Hooo...."
Carmen breathed deeply, as if soaking in warm water.
"This stuff... yeah, it's definitely addictive. Do all masters have stamina like this?"
"It's the blessing of mana, Your Majesty."
"The blessing of mana...."
Carmen picked up a potion vial from the table.
"Huh? You're drinking that too? Didn't you hate it?"
"Every time I drink one, it's like giving pocket money to my son. Gotta do it often. I hate the woman, but...."
"Heh heh...."
Carmen downed the potion emblazoned with the flashy 'Caroline' label in one gulp.
"Haaa. Once this entrance ceremony's over, I'm heading back to the palace for a nap. Haven't slept properly for days because of it."
"The dropouts caused a real uproar."
"If you hadn't physically dragged them out, they'd still be lying in front of the council even now."
Carmen, having chugged the Caroline, nodded toward the parchment list on the desk beside her.
"Not every noble gets in, and descendants of heroes don't automatically belong at Orosol. The only ones who enter Orosol are...."
"Those with real talent."
"Exactly. Talent. And an eye for the times."
Carmen's gaze shifted to another list beside the main roster.
"We announced over a year ago that 'Imperial Language' would be one of the exam subjects, but we can't admit idiots who didn't bother studying it."
"They probably never imagined it. That failing just Imperial Language would knock them out."
Balanced selection of 200. No age limit meant more applicants than expected, but an unforeseen—foreseen—variable led to massive dropouts.
"Count Agrit complained that his eldest son scored 400 across five subjects but failed due to zero on Imperial Language. Ridiculous, right?"
"Imperial Language was basic enough for a ten-year-old to pass after a year with the beginner's book. We even distributed them via the Empire ahead of time."
"Does the pride of a Nostrum noble who can't learn 'Imperial Language' not factor into the scores?"
"You're the one who personally rejected them and stamped the notices."
"Haha. True enough. I handled it myself."
Imperial exchange students: just 10. In the grandest, most magnificent academy—even on the capital's outskirts—how could ignorance of Imperial Language bar entry? Absurd!
"The kingdom provided the land, the Empire bought it up and built from the ground. Tsk tsk. Tens of billions went into it; that shuts them up."
"Right. Initial capital alone was hundreds of billions... haa."
From the academy operators' view, it was obvious, but dropouts didn't care.
"Whatever. Tell the whiners to try again next year. Wasting time on them is pointless."
"That's public opinion talking."
"Not the majority. The tide in the kingdom now is...."
"Pro-Empire faction. Or imperialists."
Morgania's mother and daughter shared a wry smile.
"Count Seirene's already lost his mind over the sweet honey water the Empire sends."
"Really? Lately in the capital, everyone's been badmouthing Gibraltar instead."
"Gibraltar? Why?"
"Even if others don't know, shouldn't Gibraltar at least keep its heir out of this academy?"
"Ha—ha—ha—!!"
Winchester Grand Duke's laughter echoed not just through the waiting room but the entire great hall.
"Those rats who can't squeak to our faces dare?!"
"My, you react even stronger to Gibraltar slander than Morgania insults?"
"Of course. The old Gibraltar, maybe, but now? Different story."
Winchester grinned and patted Carmen's back.
"Right. You've been chatting with the count via image crystal a lot lately?"
"Oh, just agreed to be the kids' godmother."
"For a godmother, your gripes about that woman have eased up quite a bit."
"...Less 'eased' and more 'accepted over time.'"
Carmen fiddled with the empty Caroline vial.
"If my chest had been a bit bigger when I was young...."
"...Ahem."
"Anyway. Should've made this sooner if I knew. Can't go back in time, though."
"True, but...."
Winchester unabashedly eyed Carmen's dress—from shoulders to the boldly exposed cleavage.
"...Do as you like."
"Obviously. My kids are seventeen; a queen needs this much elegance in her dress."
Carmen playfully traced the subtle valley above her sternum with a finger.
"How is it, Father? Bigger than Mother's now?"
"...Makes me admire that grandson who invented it all the more."
Winchester clucked his tongue at the empty vial.
"Who'd have thought a fatigue recovery potion would sell better thanks to its side effects."
"Count yourself lucky for such a grandson. Though... heh heh, he chose to be your grandson and son himself."
Carmen pointed through the waiting room window to the Gibraltar flag on the wall.
"Lately, it feels like Charlotte didn't just steal my husband—she took my son too. Makes me jealous. Sometimes I dream...."
The flag symbolizing the guardians of the canyon.
"Crimson as my husband, Grey as my son. Me as the Countess of Gibraltar."
"......Queen Carmen. Sorry, but—"
"I know. If that happened, Charlotte would've been queen for sure, and... hmm."
Carmen scratched her cheek with a faint smile.
"Noir Geo Nostrum. He'd be the prince. Naria's definitely my daughter."
"......."
"Grey and Naria as twins born in Gibraltar, Noir as Charlotte's son. Hmm, perfect recipe for ruining the kingdom."
"Raise them right, problem solved."
"Yeah. Raise them right."
Carmen rose.
"That's why we permitted and built this academy—to hope it leads the future well. So."
She gathered her dress at the sides and curtsied.
"I leave it to you. Chancellor Winchester."
"Ah. Of course."
Two days ago.
Winchester Morgania Grand Duke resigns as prime minister.
One day ago.
Winchester Morgania Grand Duke appointed chancellor of Orosol Academy.
For any event, what matters most varies by perspective.
Attendees hope it goes smoothly.
Sponsors seek massive profits.
Organizers pray for no incidents, a safe end.
In that sense, Orosol Academy's opening and entrance ceremony could be the most glorious—or dangerous—day in nearly thirty years.
"Never thought I'd live to see this."
Inside a carriage entering the academy's main gate.
"The imperial crown prince riding with Empire heavyweights, a spectacle for kingdom citizens."
Hapsburg von Tersian flashed a subtle smile at the crowds lining the path to the academy entrance, his tone mocking.
"A spectacle, sure. Gotta show off that handsome face to win over kingdom girls' support for the crown prince."
The burly man in a suit across from him—Claydoll Marquis—waved out the window as he replied.
"If good looks made the incompetent king capable?"
"I retract the statement."
Only their faces visible through the window. The carriage muffled their words outside.
"By the way, Your Highness. No need to meet your daughter?"
"Which of the five?"
"...'Imperial Princess' exempt?"
"Still just an imperial granddaughter."
Beside Claydoll Marquis, a white-haired, red-eyed woman in black dress muttered sarcastically.
"Our marquis lost his brains when his hair started falling out?"
"Hey, witch. Watch that loose tongue. Huh?"
"Oh my. Such killing intent. I'm a total idiot now—if you punch me, I die? Tone down the mana?"
"Batori. Enough snark."
"Yes, yes."
The white-haired red-eyed witch, Batori, placed a hand on her chest and bowed at the crown prince's mediation.
"Baldness isn't shameful."
"Crown Prince, you're not saying that because His Majesty's balding scares you?"
"Perish the thought."
"Heh heh.... Oh, right. Since I'm staying here awhile, mind if I do some research?"
Witch Batori reached out, slapping a hand atop Claydoll Marquis's head.
"You little...!"
"Hair growth potion!"
"......."
"What? I'm serious. If I develop it, people would pay ten million gold easy."
"......I'll let it slide once."
Claydoll Marquis brushed her hand away.
"Still, don't get caught researching weird stuff. If you're exposed or killed, it spells trouble for me—and His Highness."
"It's fine, fine. I soaked in the tub for three months to come here, buddy."
Batori grinned wide, pulling her lip corners up with two index fingers.
"Ta-da. Whaddya think?"
"Don't smile like that. Some clueless kingdom lad falls for you hard, then what?"
"I'd snag a soul and play."
"Ha...."
"What? His Highness is fine with it, right?"
"Naturally."
Hapsburg shrugged.
"A centuries-old virgin wants to taste the mortal realm? Why not...."
"Oh dear, what ever do you mean...?"
Batori's smile deepened.
"I'm Batori Erzebet, 32 this year, academy vice-chancellor and alchemy professor~?"
"You may fool others, but you speak your mind."
"So, what's on yours?"
"Did you skip a digit draining blood—or your conscience too?"
"......."
Claydoll Marquis smiled, fixing his gaze out the window, waving to kingdom citizens.
Entrance ceremony.
Imperial guests.
Hapsburg von Tersian, crown prince of the Empire.
Barbatos Claydoll, imperial marquis.
Vice-chancellor.
Batori Erzebet.
"...Young master. The suit is ready."
"Ah. Let's go then. Sir Robert."