While I was perplexed by Mircel’s letter, the outside became noisy. It was probably Makdal and Ricks causing trouble again. I frowned and opened the door. Surprisingly, it wasn’t them but Limberton and Rockefeller, with Rockefeller shouting at Limberton.
“You’ve got some nerve, Limberton Bel Delsi, trying to send this letter to Lady Lulen.”
Rockefeller was reading aloud a letter, presumably written by Limberton, in a monotonous voice as if reciting from a book.
“Mom, this place is crazy. Please take me away immediately. The professors don’t care if students die. I’m digging a tunnel, so please send even a single horse. Limberton.”
People in the hallway came out, stifling laughter at the spectacle.
“Oh, look, there are watermarks. Did you cry while writing this?”
“N-no, it’s not that, Professor.”
“I warned you already. All letters about the academy are subject to censorship.”
“P-please, just this once…”
Limberton was begging with his hands clasped together. Rockefeller, showing no sign of sympathy, pulled out another letter from his pocket and started reading it, this time with added commentary.“Hmm, ‘It’s too cold here. I need the scarf mom made for me. I should have stayed home as mom said. Why did I go to the dungeon? This one’s outright revealing everything.”
Rockefeller then cast a ‘Curse of Restraint’ on Limberton with his raised staff.
“Aaaaah!”
Limberton collapsed to the floor, foaming at the mouth. Watching this, I deduced the reason for Rockefeller’s visit. It was absurd for the top-ranked professor to personally come just to punish someone for breaching censorship. There was only one possible purpose.
“How have you been? Hersel Ben Tenest.”
He came to pick a fight with me.
“Do you have any business with me?”
I asked sharply, and Rockefeller approached with a smirk. His trembling lips and the vein bulging on his forehead made it obvious that his smile was forced. Why was he acting like this?
Hot… Could it be…
“Ah, I just wanted to talk about Mircel Ben Tenest—”
“Not interested.”
I cut him off and slammed the door shut.
Bang!
As expected, my bad feeling was right. The professors had read Mircel’s letter through their censorship. They must have urgently informed Rockefeller, causing him to come here. Even just Mircel expressing a desire to come here was enough to set off alarms. Considering Mircel is the top recruitment target for other academies and even the royal family, it’s no wonder the professors were on edge. R̃Ã𐌽ȫ฿ƐS
“No matter how talented the kid is, bringing such a young child here is insane…”
I blocked my ears and tried to sleep, ignoring Rockefeller’s persistent knocking until he gave up.
Knock, knock, knock!
“Hersel Ben Tenest! I need to talk to you for a moment!”
Keep knocking, I won’t open the door.
Although Rockefeller’s hour-long knocking disturbed my sleep, I managed to protect Mircel from these child abusers. What was the mistress doing while the kid was causing such trouble?
***
“I told you it wouldn’t work.”
These days, it’s normal for Mircel to reject everything.
Aol sighed deeply as he watched Ahille.
“The boy’s stubbornness is just like yours. Plus, he’s also like me, always wanting to do what he’s told not to. You know this well.”
Caught in the middle, Aol was just frustrated. His wife was cold, and Mircel had been sulking, making excuses to avoid training. Occasionally, they would glare at him like cats from both sides. For the sake of peace, he needed to find a compromise.
“Besides, even if he’s still a child, he has two older brothers, so there’s no need to worry too much.”
“Here, he has his parents, so there’s even less to worry about.”
“If you keep refusing, he might rebel.”
“Didn’t Hersel also go astray because the Grand Duke spoiled him too much?”
“That boy was strange from the start.”
The energy-draining argument continued. Ahille, tired of the meaningless conversation, let her shoulders slump. She must have been exhausted, too. Despite her efforts to cheer Mircel up, she only received sullen responses in return.
“At this rate, our relationship with Mircel might be ruined forever. Think carefully.”
Eventually, Ahille sighed deeply and seemed to give in.
“They say parents can’t win against their children. I never thought I’d experience it myself.”
Aol smiled inwardly at her positive response.
“But there’s a condition.”
“Condition?”
“If Mircel wants to come home, make arrangements for him to return immediately. You can handle that, right?”
Aol nodded. Although Frost Heart had no formal expulsion procedure, if the student was Mircel, it was a different story. If the academy refused the condition, he could just cancel the whole thing. If they changed their mind after admission, he could lead his knights to make trophies of Arkandrik and the professors in the basement.
‘Not that I’d mind filling the empty space left by the monster bird.’
But Ahille’s demands didn’t end there.
“Once a month, let Mircel visit home, and send a personal maid. Also, I think Erucel should have a maid too.”
“Ahem, Erucel said he didn’t need one.”
“Forcing a maid on a child who doesn’t want one is not right, right?”
Suddenly, the mistress seemed to have a bright idea and widened her eyes.
“And please stop keeping those creepy things in the basement. It’s not good to live above such things. It doesn’t look good to visiting guests either.”
Stop collecting trophies? Aol was about to say something when Ahille preemptively called out.
“Mircel? I know you’re eavesdropping. Come here.”
“Yes, mom.”
Mircel peeked out from behind the wall and ran to Ahille, hugging her. She stroked his head and looked at Aol.
“Your father has given up his precious hobby for you. What do you say?”
“Thank you, dad.”
Mircel looked up at him with expectant eyes. Reluctantly, Aol squeezed out words he didn’t mean.
“…Alright. I’ll do that.”
Aol’s eyebrows twitched as he looked at Ahille and Mircel, who exchanged knowing glances.
“?!”
Seeing their exchanged looks, a feeling of unease crept over him. The suspicion that they might have been plotting this all along crossed his mind. Perhaps Ahille had always intended to send Mircel and saw this as an opportunity to get what she wanted. She might have made a secret agreement with Mircel, promising to send him if certain conditions were met, including making Aol stop his trophy collection.
‘No, surely it can’t be…’
***
Yesterday, I lost some sleep due to the black devil’s knocking. But surely, Mircel wouldn’t come here so young. Feeling relieved, I headed to the first-floor lobby for class. I was chatting with the two knights from the club when Limberton asked.
“Club? Is there one you want to join?”
“I don’t plan to join. I’m just looking to invest from a business perspective.”
“Invest?”
There are various clubs, from alchemy to clothing production, and many are essentially groups that generate profit from students. Due to the nature of their business, developing and producing items incurs significant costs, and many fail even when they launch products. For them, investment is something to welcome with open arms.
“If you invest money, you get dividends. It’s better than just sitting on the coins I’ve saved.”
“Oh… that sounds interesting.”
“If you’re interested, come with me after class. The quality of their goods is decent enough to be worth a look.”
For student-made items, the quality wasn’t too bad. The clubs passed down the knowledge from their seniors like a legacy, and the wisdom of their supervising professors was deeply ingrained.
Aslay, also interested, opened his Imperial language dictionary. His finger pointed to the word ‘investment.’
“Investment means earning.”
“That’s right, investment. It means you put in money to get more back.”
Then he pointed to the word ‘loss.’
“Loss means losing.”
“Correct. If you’re not careful, you can lose money. You have to be cautious when choosing where to invest.”
Aslay nodded in understanding. I felt a bit proud of him. Such a diligent student.
***
The club building was inside the fortress. The academy had dedicated two entire floors to club activities, and the scale was almost like a market. As soon as we entered the first floor, Limberton looked at the rows of signs and questioned.
“I came here once before, but why are there so many clothing clubs?”
“There are at least seven clothing production clubs.”
“Seven? How is that allowed?”
“The academy permits clubs with overlapping themes, especially those like clothing production that require few members.”
The minimum number of members needed to start a club was three. After clothing production, food-related clubs were likely the next most numerous.
“I want to get a suit made, but I don’t know which one to go to…”
As Limberton said this, the members of the clothing clubs’ eyes lit up. They looked at us like predators eyeing prey, silently pleading for us to choose their club. Limberton approached the booth with the most women.
“Hey, you three. New students?”
“Wow, look at the long legs on that blonde freshman. Mind if I take your measurements?”
Two women swarmed Limberton, who winked and made a crude joke.
“Can you take my measurements instead? Not that size, though. Haha!”
The women recoiled as if they’d seen a cockroach, eventually being replaced by a male member, causing Limberton to sigh deeply.
“I’ll take your measurements, shorty.”
“Yes…”
Since we were here to buy clothes, I decided to get Aslay fitted for a suit as well. I couldn’t have him walking around in animal skins forever.
“Aslay, you should get a suit too. If the environment changes, you need appropriate attire.”
“Hmm.”
Aslay nodded and took the measuring tape. He flinched at its unfamiliar texture, making the women laugh softly.
“Wow, look at those muscles.”
“Hey, you’re touching too much.”
Limberton’s eyes grew teary watching this scene. While the two got their suits fitted, I decided to find a club to invest in.
“I’ll be upstairs for a bit. See you later.”
Saying this, I climbed the stairs. The clothing of the people on the second floor looked expensive, even the fabrics. The booths were decorated with sophisticated wood and signs, almost blindingly bright. The second floor was for those with money, where poor students from Schlaphe couldn’t dream of going. But I had over 13,000 coins. I was the wealthiest first-year, having converted some of my coins into black coins worth 1,000 each.
Now, let’s invest.
…Let’s see, I have some ideas. The alchemy club? It has the lowest risk but also the smallest returns. Still, it’s the best choice.
Food clubs are too high-risk, high-reward. Trends change too quickly, and any hygiene issue could ruin them.
Clubs making school supplies or fancy items have moderate risk. There’s always a steady demand.
With so many clubs, it’s hard to remember where I invested each time I restarted at Frost Heart. The names are all similar, so I need to check them directly.
As I walked, reading the signs, I occasionally felt sharp gazes. Passersby chuckled at my attire, and the vendors seemed to hope I wouldn’t approach. It was understandable. With the freshmen having just arrived, my unfamiliar face and first-year status were obvious.
Naturally, they thought, ‘What’s a first-year doing here without money?’
Except for the Adella Hall students, who were already known as future big spenders by the club members.
Ignoring them, I continued until something caught my eye.
[Nille’s Alchemy Workshop]
It was a shop with windows, not just a booth. A premium spot. I was surprised to see the ice beast hide I had once captured hanging there.
Why is that here in an alchemy club?
Selly had told me she sold it to a textile club. As I looked on, a familiar face popped out.
“Welcome.”
My eyes widened in recognition. This was the very alchemy club I had invested in each time I started at Frost Heart. The most stable and highest-paying of all the alchemy clubs.
“Hmm? A freshman?”
She scrutinized my appearance, raising an eyebrow. I nodded in response.
Then she asked again.
“Which hall are you from?”
“Schlaphe.”
She smiled brightly but her words were harsh.
“Get lost.”
Clearly, she regarded me as one of those worthless Schlaphe scum. Little did she know how much money I had.
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