“Do you know about the inheritance method of the Cromwell family?”

“Yeah, roughly. It’s not the usual primogeniture system, but an evaluation system where they choose among the adult children of the family head through assessment. They say it’s a family tradition.”

“That’s right, you know well. Sid’s older brother, who graduated from here, was the top of his class at Sienia for all three years. So don’t you think Sid must be feeling anxious? Rumors say Sid and his brother don’t get along at all.”

“Ah.”

Nigel Ars replied lifelessly.

Even if an asshole had a backstory, they were still just an asshole with a backstory.

After finishing their meal, Nigel Ars and Allen Evans decided to walk in the backyard until classes started.

However, the previously cheerful atmosphere suddenly turned cold as soon as Nigel Ars appeared.

“Wow~ Allen. Looks like I’m a celebrity. Everywhere I go, students look at me like I’m Sid Cromwell?”

There were many students glaring at her from all around. Most of them had emblems with a snake and pen, symbols of wisdom, engraved on their chests.

“Um… the Politics Department tends to have a lot of pride in their grades. Most of the students are nobles too.”

Allen Evans cautiously began, gauging Nigel Ars’s reaction.

“Ah, I see.”

‘Is it because they’re young? They’re wasting energy on such pointless things.’

Nigel Ars, who had never once been an adult, replied without changing her expression.

“Don’t worry, Nigel. Once they know what a good person you are, they’ll all stop soon!”

Allen Evans patted Nigel Ars’s back comfortingly.

“Right, Allen. I should show them just how good of a person I am, like you said.”

“Yeah! That’s a great idea!”

Allen Evans smiled brightly, not knowing that the standards for a good person in Nigel Ars’s mind and his own were as far apart as the ends of Sienia.

“Oh, right. Allen, do you know Teller and Orlend?”

“Huh?? How do you know the names of our teachers?”

“No, I just guessed.”

As expected. Even those with honor or power can’t beat those with money.

Nigel Ars happily raised the corners of her mouth and walked to the classroom with light steps.

“Nigel, wait for me!”

The first class at Sienia was the History of Arenium, a common course for first-year students.

Sienia’s classes were largely divided into common courses and department courses (or elective courses).

Outside of common courses that all students of the same year took regardless of department, students had to fill their time with department courses of their choice.

At Sienia, common courses were designed not just to gain knowledge necessary for the year, but to mingle with students from other departments and gain diverse experiences and learnings, emphasizing the most important value of ‘cooperation’.

Because Sienia allowed one chance to change departments only in the first semester of the first year, the entire first semester of the first year consisted of common courses.

Of course, regardless of the intention behind common courses, the students naturally divided into three groups by department and sat huddled together.

The innermost part of the classroom was for the Magic Department, the middle for the Politics Department, and the outer area for the Swordsmanship Department.

“Oh, Noah, you’re here?”

“Yes.”

At this moment, when Noah Beselion, a famous figure in the Swordsmanship Department, passed by the Swordsmanship area and sat in the Magic Department’s area, the faces of several Swordsmanship Department students darkened.

“How was your special meeting with the Dean?”

“It was ordinary. He was a nice person.”

“Did he congratulate you on your admission and tell you to study hard from now on?”

“Ah, and he also asked about my reason for attending the academy.”

“What did you answer?”

At Nigel Ars’s question, Noah Beselion and Nigel Ars’s gazes met in midair. Noah Beselion’s eyes wavered for a moment.

“Well…”

Dong. Dong.

At that moment, the bell signaling the hour began to ring.

Creak.

When the last chime was about to sound, the classroom door opened and a stern-looking man wearing glasses appeared.

It was Cledian, the professor in charge of first-year Politics Department students.

“It’s Bell…”

At this time, a whisper was heard from the middle section where the Politics Department students sat.

“Bell?”

“Yeah, he always comes in when there’s one bell left, so we call him Bell. My sister, who’s a graduate, said he’s never broken this rule.”

The students who heard the whisper giggled.

“And… unless there’s something special, they say he never ends class early or gives break time, so he teaches all day long. That’s why he’s Bell.”

“…Even the first class?”

“Yeah. My sister said he’d keep teaching even if monsters invaded the academy.”

The bright faces of the students quickly darkened.

As if to prove those words, Cledian immediately opened the textbook.

“The entrance ceremony was enough, so we’ll skip self-introductions. Still, since it’s the first day, we won’t cover the textbook and instead have a simple time to communicate.”

‘Oh…!’

‘He seems like a nice person?’

‘As expected, rumors tend to be exaggerated.’

The students quietly exchanged glances.

“Of course, all of today’s class content will be reflected in the exam. Keep this in mind.”

‘…He really is Bell.’

‘He’s Bell indeed.’

The students, hope completely faded from their eyes, hurriedly took out notebooks and writing utensils and placed them on their desks.

“Then, let’s start with a simple question. What year did our empire sign a peace treaty with the Kingdom of Krena, and what was the motive?”

‘Simple, my foot.’

‘Ugh! We have to listen to this for two hours on the first day?’

It was then.

“Ah, yes. Two people… These new students seem promising. The one who raised their hand first, answer please.”

Cledian said, pushing up his glasses.

The student who raised their hand first, or rather, Nigel Ars, lowered her hand and stood up, gladly receiving Cromwell’s glaring gaze.

“The year our empire signed a peace treaty with the Kingdom of Krena was 1622, and the emperor at that time was Emperor Edwin, the great-great-grandfather of our current Emperor.”

“No need for further explanation. Then, what was the motive?”

Cledian said.

“The invasion of magical beasts was the catalyst. The Kingdom of Krena has mostly fertile plains, which is advantageous for agriculture but a fatal weakness when it comes to repelling magical beasts. Therefore, through this alliance, our empire provides military support, while the Kingdom of Krena grants our empire most-favored-nation treatment, which continues to this day.”

Cledian gently raised the corners of his mouth.

“Good. What’s your name, student?”

“Nigel Ars from the Magic Department.”

“Ah, the rumored perfect scorer. No wonder our department’s students were making such a fuss. Our new students will need to be on their toes.”

“Thank you.”

Nigel Ars nodded once to Cledian and sat down.

“Nigel, are you an encyclopedia? You just sounded like our teachers.”

Noah Beselion also gave Nigel Ars a round of applause.

“…And the Politics Department students look like they’re about to breathe fire.”

Allen Evans whispered, glancing around.

“Did something happen with the Politics Department? How could fellow freshmen…”

“No, it’s fine. Let them be.”

Nigel Ars chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the warm, attentive gazes from the Politics Department students on the right.

For the next two hours, Cledian’s questions and the sound of pens scratching on paper continued without pause. Among them, Nigel Ars was undoubtedly the one who received the most attention from Cledian.

Dong. Dong.

‘Finally…!’

‘The next class has to be better than this…’

The bell rang, saving the students.

Nigel Ars and her companions joined the rush of students streaming out the door.

“Nigel. Can we talk for a moment?”

It was Cledian’s voice, dry yet gentle, impossible to ignore.

Nigel Ars immediately stopped and stepped out of the line.

“Have you considered transferring to our Politics Department? It seems quite a shame to use your eloquence and exceptional knowledge only for magic.”

Cledian said with a smile, quite affectionately.

“I appreciate your words, but I have no intention of transferring.”

“Don’t be so quick to decide. Think it over carefully during this semester. Politics is a beautiful discipline.”

“Yes.”

Nigel Ars nodded once and left the classroom.

“There she comes.”

“Where, where? Ah, there she is!”

A familiar black head of hair was visible among the students. Allen Evans and Noah Beselion raised their hands high and waved.

“What did the professor say?”

“Nothing much. We’ll be late for the next class, let’s go.”

“…Oh! R-right. …We should go.”

As if the question wasn’t meant to be answered, Allen Evans didn’t ask again.

Instead, he walked awkwardly down the corridor, creaking as if avoiding landmines.

“…What’s wrong with him? Is he sick?”

Nigel Ars stepped close to Noah Beselion and whispered.

Nigel Ars’s black hair almost touched Noah Beselion’s face. Noah Beselion leaned back slightly as he answered.

“…He’s worried about the next class.”

“What? What do you mean… Oh.”

The next class was an introduction to basic swordsmanship.

Allen Evans’s thin arms and legs seemed to wobble even more lifelessly than usual today.

“He was worrying about the swordsmanship class until he finally fell asleep in the dormitory last night.”

Noah Beselion leaned slightly towards Nigel Ars and spoke in a low voice.

“He didn’t say anything yesterday. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He said he wanted to look good in front of his first friend.”

“Huh…”

A laugh escaped involuntarily at the ridiculous reason.

“Ah, Allen asked to keep this a secret, so I’d appreciate it if you could oblige.”

Nigel Ars nodded perfunctorily and spoke again.

“Does he usually exercise…?”

“He said he’s never done any exercise other than breathing when I asked him yesterday.”

Right, he wouldn’t have. That body couldn’t possibly be one that exercises.

Oblivious to Allen Evans’s anxious heart, time flowed mercilessly onward.