episode_0007

Strolling leisurely through the sunlit campus of the academy, you could encounter all sorts of people.

A newly enrolled freshman girl who had just started her studies, and the ambitious young son of an orc chieftain from a distant land chatting with her.

A drunken dwarf already wasted by noon, and a demon professor scolding such behavior with sharp words.

Furry couples sneaking off to the park for secret rendezvous, a dragonkin peeking at them, a merfolk dipping their feet in a small lake—humans from all walks of life, and even elderly elf students over a hundred years old were not uncommon here.

This was Schponheim Academy.

A garden of splendor that gathered those with ambition and qualifications, regardless of lineage, allowing each to bear their own fruit.

And I had been admitted to a place within this garden reserved only for the most elite of the elite.

The lecture hall for Introduction to Military Strategy, a course offered by the Department of Military Studies.

“…”

Count Byeongyeong had mentioned having something to attend to in the morning and had left ahead, but now that I thought about it, I wasn’t exactly the sociable type.

So, I found myself at a loss in this awkward situation, bombarded by gazes filled with curiosity, wariness, and interest—eyes of all shapes and sizes, some even with vertical pupils, staring at me with various intentions.

Of course, the reason was obvious: the students.

Though Professor Bisbaden had confidently assured me that no one would see my admission as preferential treatment, since when did professors and students ever see eye to eye?

Professors, perched high in their ivory towers, often forgot the struggles of us mere mortals below. A lesson I’d learned all too well in my past life.

So, I braced myself, and just as expected, a stern-looking man—one of the senior students—approached me.

A quick glance told me he was at least a head taller than me.

To my tense self, he spoke:

“Um… This is the lecture hall for Introduction to Military Strategy today.”

“…Ah.”

Come to think of it, news of my transfer wouldn’t have been immediately announced to everyone, right?

‘Maybe they were just curious because they didn’t recognize me…?’

Well, this wasn’t a world with instant messaging. Rumors like that wouldn’t spread in just a few days.

Feeling blood rush to my face, my words came out faster than intended.

“Ah, no. I’m Baron Werner von Hebel from Ruticia. I’ve been admitted to the Department of Military Studies on Professor Bisbaden’s recommendation.”

“Oh…! Ah, the one who did the mock battle with Her Highness the Imperial Princess?”

“Yes…! Pleased to meet you!”

It was a relief that someone recognized me just by my name. I genuinely thought so.

“Ah, so it’s you! I didn’t recognize you! Nice to meet you! You transferred departments?”

“Wait, that’s possible here?”

“I heard there was a senior who did that once. Though, more people transfer out of this department than in…”

Somehow, the students began exchanging ominous-sounding remarks. I was just glad their attitudes weren’t hostile.

All the carefully prepared countermeasures I’d thought up against hazing would probably go unused… Well, no complaints here.

“Sorry I’m late. I should’ve introduced you all earlier.”

When Count Byeongyeong finally arrived, everyone politely greeted him and swarmed around. It seemed none of them outranked him, which might explain their slightly awkward friendliness.

Well, except for this person.

The crowd, gathered to see the new face, parted like the Red Sea, and a pale hand slipped through to rest on the desk.

Neat nails, long arms, straight shoulders, a slender neck, and platinum blonde hair cascading past her ears.

And piercing, pale violet eyes that reflected the gazes of others.

Her name was Charlotte Laura von Ahenmetis. The Imperial Princess.

She opened her mouth and spoke in a slow, languid tone I’d never heard before.

“This seat isn’t taken, is it?”

Not that she waited for an answer before sitting down.

Of course, even if someone had left their belongings to claim it, she probably knew the owner wouldn’t be returning anytime soon.

“O-Of course not…?”

Now that I thought about it, why had I let my guard down when she was obviously going to be here? I quickly scooted aside to make room.

‘Damn it. I should’ve taken a corner seat.’

Now I was sandwiched between the Count on my left and the Princess on my right—suddenly surrounded by the two highest-ranking people in the lecture hall. Well, one of them was on my side, but still…!

‘Her hair… She didn’t tie it up today.’

Amidst it all, I noticed the Princess’s slightly upturned lips as she leaned forward to adjust her belongings.

“Ah, were you all introducing yourselves? Sorry if I interrupted. Everyone?”

“No, we were just chatting. Though, you claimed that seat rather naturally, didn’t you?”

A particularly short, prickly-looking youth—one who seemed oddly young—spoke in a tone that didn’t match his appearance. His ears were slightly pointed, and his eyebrows and hair were unusually thick, suggesting elven blood.

Now that I thought about it, he might’ve been among the spectators last time.

“Of course, Ludwig-nim. After all, I was the one who invited him here. Isn’t that right?”

The Princess glanced at me, then widened her large eyes in an exaggerated manner—a stark contrast to her earlier reaction toward the short youth.

“Uh…”

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. Because, well… I’d just said I came on Professor Bisbaden’s recommendation.

Not that it was a lie, but if they thought I was just embarrassed and covering for her, things might get noisy…!

Sure enough, a chatty student piped up.

“Ah, just now, Baron Hebel said it was the Professor—”

“A-Ah! That’s right! I did say I’d think about it! Truly, an honor for my house for generations to come…!”

“Of course, of course. I put in the effort, after all. Someone like Baron Hebel shouldn’t miss such an opportunity. You made the right choice!”

And so, I managed to bulldoze through with nonsense…!

Though, from the looks of the crowd—especially the short youth in front of me—I could practically hear their thoughts: ‘What the hell is going on here?’

So… stressful…

“Alright, alright. Sorry for the delay. Were you holding a welcome party for the new student?”

Then, Professor Bisbaden arrived amidst the chaos. His usual lion’s mane hairstyle today seemed less like an affectation and more like the mark of a sacred beast.

“We were just getting acquainted.”

“Then crowding around like this won’t do. Baron Hebel? Come up and introduce yourself properly. Everyone, take your seats.”

“Yes…!”

Phew, saved. Barely escaping the thin ice, I stepped forward with their understanding.

Though a faint “Hmm…” followed me from behind.

Academy lectures typically consisted of professors’ or teaching assistants’ readings and explanations, followed by student presentations and discussions.

With no multiple-choice exams, all these experiences and processes were directly tied to the final evaluations.

So, one might think that as long as you could talk your way through, you’d get a good grade—but nothing could be further from the truth.

The greatest challenge of oral exams at the academy was proving not only that you’d memorized everything but that you understood it completely.

In other words, if you tried to cover gaps in knowledge with empty rhetoric, the professors—masters of such tactics—would tear you apart with their own tongues.

In a way, it was harder than rote memorization. After all, these professors had spent years dealing with students trying to weasel their way through.

So, being recommended didn’t mean I could let my guard down. If anything, I had to study twice as hard as the regular students.

Fortunately, some parts were easier than expected.

“Let’s see. Baron Hebel, I assume you’ve reviewed what we covered in previous sessions?”

“The first session was on the definition of war and tactics, and the second covered case studies of wars the Empire has experienced.”

“Then, Baron Hebel, answer this: What are the five principles of war as outlined by Aretas?”

“Just cause, timing, terrain, leadership, and discipline. They are—”

Without just cause, war should not be waged.

Without considering the seasons, armies cannot be mobilized.

Without understanding terrain, one will inevitably march into disadvantage.

Without discerning talent, fools will lead armies.

Without discipline, soldiers cannot be commanded.

These were the teachings of Aretas in this world—fortunately, some military theories here closely resembled those from my world’s classical texts.

Namely, The Art of War.

Even across worlds, the greatest classics seemed to inspire similar ideas.

In any case, thanks to Sun Tzu—the OG of strategy—I could drastically cut down on memorization time for this course.

“Excellent. You’ve prepared well in such a short time. Now that we’ve confirmed your progress, let’s have today’s presenter come up. Who was it again?”

“Me. Ludwig von Denys.”

The short youth with the mismatched speech stood up. Denys…

‘A western family, wasn’t it?’

I didn’t know which branch Ludwig belonged to, but the highest-ranking member of House Denys was the “Duke of Neustria”—a peer of our very own Count Byeongyeong.

So, he must be a half-elf. The western families had many of those. That explained his unusual looks. Though a full head shorter than me, he had the kind of delicate features that could easily be mistaken for a girl’s.

In any case, he stepped forward and gave a brief presentation on the Empire’s military history—the previous session’s topic—while everyone else listened intently.

Tap, tap.

A pale finger rapped on the desk near my arm. It was the Princess.

A slip of papyrus was slid toward me, and Her Highness, as if to mock me, had already written on it with her quill.

『Bored.』

A quick glance confirmed she was indeed staring ahead with a bored expression.

Damn, is class boring for everyone? Given that these were still introductory topics—most of which overlapped with history books she’d likely read for years—I couldn’t help but relate.

Resting my chin on my hand, I wrote back on my own papyrus.

『You already know all this?』

『Yeah. Nothing’s as dull as repetition.』

I agreed. But as I did, a chilling realization made me shudder, and I turned my gaze to its source.

Professor Bisbaden was watching me. And seeing his eyes, I remembered why he’d recommended me in the first place.

‘A well-intentioned rival is the catalyst for improvement.’

In other words, if I just played along and indulged the Princess in her selective interests, my presence here would be meaningless.

I let my quill glide across the papyrus.

『You should still listen.』

『Why?』

‘The most dangerous state is thinking you already know,’ as the sages said.』

『How antiquated.』

『If you keep distracting me and I flunk out, we can’t do mock battles anymore.』

Pfft. A small laugh escaped her. That same mischievous giggle I’d heard before.

『Fine.』

By now, our papyrus was a mess of scribbles. I considered switching to a new sheet, but since the Princess left it as is, I did the same.

I didn’t want her to feel slighted.

“Sigh.”

The lecture ended, leaving me oddly queasy. Surprisingly, the Princess left immediately afterward, so I had no reason to linger.

“Ah, I’ll head out first. I’ve got combat training right after. You signed up with a different professor for that, right?”

“Yes… The one you’re taking seems more for those who already have martial arts training, so…”

Since the Department of Military Studies was, well, military-related, physical training was mandatory—much like in officer academies.

But as someone who couldn’t even swing a sword properly, joining a class full of people who’d trained since childhood was out of the question. Fortunately, there was a separate instructor for “hopeless cases” like me.

“See you later, then.”

“Don’t get hurt.”

After exchanging casual waves and parting ways, I found myself alone again. Just as I was about to leave, lost in thought—

“Hey.”

Once again, the world wouldn’t let me go unnoticed. At least this time, the voice was familiar…

“Come here, Baron.”

“…That’s not an honorific.”

“If you’re here, you should’ve reported to me first. Did I really have to come find you myself?”

Nope, not familiar at all.

The owner of that rude, inconsistent speech—mixing honorifics and plain speech at random—was none other than Erna Skillfingar Harpagri.

The Count’s fiancée.

And, without a doubt, the most terrifying person I’d met in this world so far.

Why?

Because she’s a total thug.