The teacher of Berlen Language 3 was Voltair, a diplomat by origin, whose main subject at the academy was international politics.
He glanced at the two freshmen in his classroom but pretended not to know them.
Neris Trued didn’t care about Voltair’s attitude at all. But Megara, flashing a few fantastic smiles to attract attention, gradually changed her expression as if shocked by his indifference.
Finally, when Voltair handed out a rather long Berlen text to the students, Megara began to converse with Mahuradi Enim with a cold face.
“Do you hate him?”
Ren looked at the text a little, then, seeming bored, rested his chin on the desk and asked Neris. The language used was not Berlen, the language being taught, but a sacred language used by clergy.
“This person?”
Neris responded in the same sacred language.
“I don’t know.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed into a halfmoon shape. He found it amusing that a child would answer in sacred language right away.
He had learned sacred language since childhood due to the uniqueness of his home environment, but most nobles are considered educated if they memorize a couple of sacred passages.
From the first time he saw her, Neris was different from the other freshmen.
She knew what even the upperclassmen should know, and even what the upperclassmen didn’t know. But there was no showing off, as one would expect for someone so smart at her age. It wasn’t showing off; it was really that she was so good.
“Why does he hate you?”
Don’t ask, or say something. Neris was incredulous.
“I told you, ‘I don’t know.'”
“Hmm.”
Ren did not ask further when Neris snapped at him but continued to look at her. Neris ignored him and read the text.
After a moment, Voltair issued learning instructions to the students in Berlen and then suddenly asked in the imperial language after seeing the students perform to some extent.
“Does anyone want to tell me what the first instruction I gave meant?”
Several upperclassmen raised their hands. Voltair pointed to one of the boys.
“Arthur Pendland.”
Neris knew Arthur Pendland well. His father was a foreign minister, and his mother was a Berlen noble, so after graduation, he was expected to be active on the front lines of Great Berlen diplomacy.
Arthur answered cleverly.
“You asked us to summarize the text you provided.”
Voltair did not tell Arthur whether he was right or wrong but turned his stern gaze.
“Then let’s hear each of your answers. Who wants to go first?”
Again, several upperclassmen raised their hands, more than before. Voltair chose the lowest hand.
“Megara Likeandros.”
Megara seemed to regain some confidence at the fact that Voltair knew her name. She spoke in a feigned modest voice.
“Livingston Kinzei tried to improve Galia’s windmill but failed due to lack of funds and was killed by the local residents.”
There was no change in Voltair’s stiff face. He took his gaze off Megara and asked Neris in Berlen.
“Do you think so too?”
Most students were admiring Megara for what they thought was a perfect answer, so they were not interested in how Neris would respond.
But Ren’s eyes sharpened, and Neris answered shortly in soft Berlen.
“Maybe.”
It was not a good answer.
If she agreed, she should have accepted cleanly, and if it was wrong, she should have offered a different answer. Most students in the classroom were old enough not to blatantly show their displeasure, but they clearly thought Neris was strange.
The showing off was so bad that indeed, the jealousy was to the point that eyes narrowed, a thought that spread to more than half of the students around that time.
“So your answer is?”
Duke Voltaire reacted as usual, without any other reaction. Neris Trued met Duke Voltaire’s stern face with her gaze and spoke calmly.
“Ambassador Livingston, dispatched to Gallia, used popularity policy to improve relations with the locals, but there were limitations to support from his home country, and he was assassinated when the allocated budget ran out.”
“You’re wrong!”
Mahuradi Ennim shouted involuntarily, but some in the classroom were nodding their heads. Megara’s glare became menacing.
Duke Voltaire slightly pulled his chin.
“Neris Trued. What was the first instruction I gave?”
“You told me to briefly explain the story in the text you gave.”
“Is Arthur Pendlandt’s answer different from yours?”
“It is different.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you, Duke Voltaire, are a diplomat.”
In the imperial language, the word ‘summarize’ means to speak only limited content within the text. However, the words ‘explain the story’ in the text meant that logically inferable information was allowed. There was no distinction between these two expressions in Berlenian.
Both answers would have meant the same in ordinary circumstances, but Neris focused on the vocabulary Duke Voltaire used.
The vocabulary used by Duke Voltaire belonged to the words that need to be particularly distinguished in Berlenian when used in diplomatic situations, so it must have been used deliberately.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
