Chapter 147

After obtaining the immense treasure left behind by the First Emperor and following Aint’s breakthrough in his battle against the chimera, the Academy overcame another minor obstacle: the midterm exams of the first semester.

Fernan didn’t worry too much about grades. For him, the only thing that mattered was not getting expelled from the Ravidus Hall.

The problem was that his partner in the duo was too strong.

【First place in the third-year midterm exams, Knight Department: Luina Bercheff】

【Second place in the third-year midterm exams, Magic Department: Fernan Pellenberg】

Not all classes were paired, but the most important ones were. Thanks to that influence, Fernan ended up scoring higher than expected, achieving second place in magic thanks to his outstanding note-taking ability.

【First place in the third-year midterm exams, Magic Department: Carlo Deneb】

Carlo Deneb took first place. During the winter break, his prowess had risen dramatically, as if he had sharpened his sword in secret.

“I hope he hasn’t turned corrupt.”

Fernan shook his head. Suspecting anyone who showed growth was becoming a disease. Carlo had always been talented; he had only fallen behind temporarily against Fernan, who had the advantage of Luina as his partner.

“In any case, students of the Academy growing stronger is a good thing.”

Even if they were “just” students, in reality they were outstanding prodigies from across the continent. They were the future of the Empire and the continent itself; their progress meant the misfortune of demons.

【First place in the second-year midterm exams, Knight Department: Aint Armian】

Aint also stood out as a prominent presence. After absorbing all of the First Emperor’s arrangements and fighting Andromalius and other magical beasts, he had shown astonishing growth. After breaking through in his battle with the chimera, he became unmatched among the second-year knights.

In the Knight Department, Aint Armian was viewed with the same respect as Jace Vines in the Magic Department.

【The tragedy that struck Bercheff, will the wall remain firm?】

【The north would have fallen a hundred times over without Bercheff…】

【The corrupt begin to stir; a continental response is urgently needed】

【The natural enemy of demons takes first place in the Academy】

The newspapers highlighted the invasion of Kimaris, spreading fear and emphasizing the need for a continental alliance.

“It turned out well.”

“Yes, His Excellency made sure of it.”

Amid it all, Aint’s figure stood out subtly. All of it was the work of the Pellenbergs. Fernan was slowly weaving the board.

“There’s a rumor that Timon Baertz had a breakthrough thanks to Aint.”

“A breakthrough?”

“Yes. They say he broke through after a duel with him.”

“A duel?”

Fernan frowned. Were they referring to the time he knocked him unconscious on purpose to check if he was a corrupt?

‘And being pushed to the limit gave him a revelation?’

It wasn’t impossible. For Timon, Aint was far too superior, and obtaining insight after clashing with someone that strong wasn’t uncommon.

“That’s why he gave him a thank-you gift and now holds him in high regard.”

“A guy who should have turned corrupt ends up a follower of Aint? What if it’s a ploy?”

“But Aint himself checked him, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did.”

That only deepened the doubt. Maybe Abel’s appearance had shifted the direction entirely. Or maybe Abel was just an addition, and Timon simply hadn’t fallen yet.

“For now, it’s best to keep him close to Aint. If he changes, Aint will notice right away. If not, he’ll be a useful servant.”

“And Ludger? How has he reacted?”

“He must have heard the rumors, but he hasn’t done anything.”

“He must be losing his mind.”

Since his failed assassination attempt on Aint, Ludger had remained silent. And with Aint staying quiet, he must be going mad.

“We’ll leave him be for now. And…”

Fernan gently tapped the table.

Since he obtained the First Emperor’s treasure, there had been no more prophetic visions. The world had changed too much for further revelations to be of much help.

For now, the continent was relatively at peace. Perhaps because Kimaris had died in Bercheff and the corrupt were hiding, or maybe due to the wave of hunts for the corrupt in several regions.

The Academy had also returned to a near-normal state, like before the prophecy.

“With peace and new students, it’s time to reopen the Masked Club.”

The club hadn’t disappeared, but Fernan had been too busy to participate.

“This time we’ll celebrate in style.”

“I’ll prepare everything.”

“Send new invitations to Senior Gismond and the top first-year students.”

“Yes.”

Peace wouldn’t last forever, but for now it was time to return to the essence of the Academy—a place of fellowship where the future powers of the continent forged their relationships.

***

“…What am I supposed to do?”

Bella Hoenne looked bewildered at the sudden request.

“I want you to choose clothes. For Aint Armian.”

“And why should I do that?”

“I saw you picked well for Luina. You have a sense of fashion, unlike me and my circle.”

Bella shook her head.

“Don’t come at me with nonsense, Fernan. The Hoenne have always been neutral.”

“This isn’t a scheme. Think carefully, Bella Hoenne. Look at the state of the continent now.”

“And you say it’s not a scheme!”

Bella shouted. She knew it too—the continent was stirring more and more, and Aint Armian’s name was beginning to echo. The gap with Schwaben was still wide, but with demons multiplying, that wall no longer seemed insurmountable.

The power left by the First Emperor, Aint’s special strength against demons, his tacit alliance with Fernan, and his recent closeness with Luina.

‘And Aria Fridian has been with them from the beginning.’

That already made three potential backers among the seven electoral votes.

And on top of that, that damned “saint” Fernan was friends with—just thinking about it made Bella grind her teeth.

“I understand what you’re saying. But there’s one thing—all of you are heirs, not heads of houses.”

“And why not consider that this reflects the will of the patriarchs themselves?”

“What?”

“No, rather—my will.”

Bella clenched her teeth. Punching that smiling, cynical face would be such a relief.

“…Fine.”

In the end, she accepted. A good merchant knew how to keep a foot in both camps if necessary. If Aint ever ascended to the throne, rejecting him now would be an unforgivable mistake.

Besides, Hoenne was heavily reliant on Pellenberg in trade. She could always use pressure as an excuse.

“Excellent choice. Ah, I forgot to mention—it’s not just for Aint. There are three in total.”

“Three? Who else?”

“One is your friend.”

“Luina, of course. I always chose her clothes myself.”

Bella nodded calmly; she had already planned to buy Luina dresses anyway.

“And the last… is that sanctimonious guy who only wears a robe.”

“…Jace? That bastard!?”

Bella exploded.

“You hate him that much?”

“Of course! How could I forget—he tried to kill me!”

“But you didn’t die.”

“I almost did!”

“I was there too. So was Luina. You weren’t going to die.”

“But he tried to!”

“Because at the time you were corrupted.”

Bella screamed in indignation.

“The miasma invaded me without me noticing—that doesn’t make me a corrupt!”

“Be that as it may, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Wait, no, Jace is—!”

Fernan disappeared before she could stop him.

The door opened again.

“…I didn’t say I accepted!”

But there they were—Luina, Aint, and Jace.

Bella swallowed hard. She didn’t have the nerve to insult, to his face, the very man who reminded her of that nightmare.

“Bella, could you help us?”

“Hello, Senior.”

“A pleasure to see you again, Senior.”

‘Damn you, Fernan, greedy worm!’

Bella went back to hating him with all her soul.

***

“…So today’s the day.”

She let out a sigh without meaning to.

The day she wished would never come had arrived.

From a social club to a Yacht Club, and finally transformed into the Masked Club—the Academy’s greatest society.

Officially, it was led by Ludger, but in truth, it was Fernan.

The reason was simple—it was a club Fernan had built with his own money.

“Aint Armian will be there too.”

Fernan had decided to expand the stage.

What did that mean?

That he wanted to etch Aint Armian clearly into everyone’s memory.

“That Fernan… why on earth is he supporting Aint Armian so much?”

Did he really believe Aint Armian could become emperor, that House Armian could be reborn?

“That’s impossible.”

Even if the continent fell into chaos and the demons kept descending, it made no difference.

Schwaben had worked for a long time to cement the throne.

They had even recently tried to change the Empire’s name to “Schwaben,” and though it failed, their efforts to secure the crown permanently continued.

Stealing Armian’s secret swordsmanship was part of those plans.

“…But Fernan has no way of knowing that.”

Even if he was a Pellenberg, how could he know that the First Prince of Schwaben was secretly learning the lost swordsmanship of Armian?

“This could work to my advantage.”

If the time came and she revealed that information, would Fernan still stand by Aint?

The only advantage Armian had over Schwaben was being recognized as the natural enemy of demons thanks to his secret swordsmanship.

“Pellenberg would never take that kind of risk.”

Of the seven prince-electors, Pellenberg was the most calculating in terms of profit.

If he judged there was no future, he would switch sides without hesitation.

Ludger then decided to attend the Masked Club.

If he were absent, it was obvious Aint would become the center of attention, and he couldn’t allow that to happen right before his eyes.

With the help of his maids, he put on a splendid formal suit, donned a mask that covered half his face, and boarded the carriage.

The masquerade ball was being held at the grand mansion owned by the Golden Turtle Company.

The banquet hall of the mansion was so spacious it could host dozens of students along with their guests.

Since it was a masked ball, the entrance of each guest was not announced, unlike in other events.

But a mask couldn’t hide the overwhelming presence of Ludger.

As soon as he entered, the soft music came to a halt, and all eyes turned to him.

A circle soon formed around him.

“Your Highness. It’s been a while…”

“Your Highness, I…”

‘I did well to come. I shouldn’t have secluded myself for so long.’

As always, it was in social gatherings that Ludger felt most alive.

It was the power—the confirmation that he still had influence—that brought him such pleasure.

‘No matter how much Aint Armian starts to make a name for himself, I—’

At that moment.

Creak—

The door opened.

Those nearby instinctively turned to look.

And once their eyes locked on the entrance, they couldn’t look away.

“What is it? Why are they all…?”

The others also followed the gazes, their faces fixed on the entrance.

More and more people turned to stare in that direction.

“What’s going on? Who is…?”

Ludger turned his head too.

There were two people.

A man with dazzling golden hair and an elf with soft crimson hair.

The masks could not hide the natural majesty they exuded.

But it wasn’t them that was capturing everyone’s attention.

It was precisely—

The white bird resting on the man’s shoulder.

“Four wings…?”

“…It can’t be.”

Damn it.

Ludger couldn’t help but curse, though no one around him noticed.

“…Saintbird?”

Ludger’s jaw dropped to its limit.