Chapter 32

There were countless clubs at the Academy.

From the simplest—like reading, tea, or theater—to the largest, like fencing, horseback riding, or magical research.

The Academy encouraged student socialization and learning, and as long as the activities weren’t too strange, almost every club received approval.

Thanks to this, hundreds of clubs had formed, but the best of them all remained the Yacht Club.

It was said that only the top 5% of the Academy could join, and that entry required an invitation from an internal member.

It was the club every student dreamed of.

The reason was simple: members of the Yacht Club were recognized not only at the Academy but throughout the Empire.

Academic, regional, or blood ties—these connections were powerful in any world, and the Yacht Club was the best stage for forging them.

‘Hmm…’

The enormous luxury yacht, which would serve as the event’s venue, was moored at the dock.

Masked members began boarding the ship one by one.

Fernan sat waiting for Luina.

The Yacht Club’s rules stated that you had to enter with your partner, the one who had invited you.

‘Soon, this whole place will be swarming with monsters.’

As he felt the sea breeze and reflected on the future, Luina approached.

“Didn’t you say you went dress shopping with Bella Hoenne?”

“Yes, I went.”

“Then why are you wearing the knight order’s uniform?”

It wasn’t a huge issue—knights sometimes attended parties in official uniform—but this time she was here not as Knight Luina, but Student Luina.

While all the other women wore dresses, her uniform would certainly draw attention.

“…Those frilly clothes just aren’t for me… Besides, what if we end up fighting? I wouldn’t be ready for anything in a dress…”

Luina murmured her excuse, nervous. Though, in truth, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Fighting in a dress would be difficult.

“…Nah, it’s fine. Not a serious breach of etiquette. Everyone knows who you are, dress or not.”

Even though the theme of the party was a masquerade ball, those masks didn’t hide much. After spending so much time together at the Academy, recognizing each other was inevitable.

“So, what exactly do I need to do?”

“Have fun.”

“Huh?”

“Just enjoy the ball. The Yacht Club is primarily a social space. Until I give the signal, just act normal.”

“…Understood.”

“Have you ever been to a ball?”

Luina hesitated before shaking her head.

“My family’s situation wasn’t great, so I didn’t have time for parties.”

“My mistake… I’m sorry.”

Though it’s said a noble family can last three years after ruin, Fernan never imagined Luina, descendant of a marquis, had never attended a single party.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I had no opportunities—I just chose not to go.”

“I figured as much.”

Yes, it couldn’t be that she never had the chance.

Fernan, convinced, adjusted his clothes and glanced around. That’s when he spotted other guests.

“I’m a bit nervous… it’s my first party.”

“Don’t worry, people are the same everywhere.”

Under their masks, two brown-eyed men stood out. One had neatly styled bluish-black hair; the other, gleaming blond. Fernan recognized them instantly.

‘Valoshi Bienderk and Aint Armian.’

Even masked, each person had their own presence, their own voice.

“They’re already here?”

A third masked figure joined them.

‘Alkan Chayson?’

A slim man with gray hair and blue eyes. Second-in-command of the third-year Knight Department and one of Ludger’s closest.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Aint Armian.”

“I know. Is there anyone at the Academy who doesn’t? Delighted, I’m Alkan Chayson.”

One of those charming types who were usually quite popular.

‘Was he the one who gave him the invitation? Then, Ludger?’

Aint had been at the Yacht Club when he was attacked by cultists.

Since those men had already infiltrated as yacht staff, everything was clearly premeditated.

That meant the problem began with the invitation.

“Let’s go in.”

“Yes.”

“Understood, senior.”

That’s why, when Valoshi suggested he join, Fernan had already suspected something.

Valoshi Bienderk was a clear ally of Aint—there’s no way he’d work with cultists to trap him.

If the issue was just who handed him the invitation, that made sense—but if Ludger was behind it, that was harder to believe.

‘Ludger isn’t dumb enough to side with the corrupt, is he?’

Even if demons had disappeared, the Empire was still founded on their eradication.

Demons remained the mortal enemy, and for the prince to get involved with the corrupt was madness.

‘Still too early to judge.’

Maybe Alkan Chayson had his own plans, maybe Ludger didn’t even know those men were corrupt, or maybe it was just coincidence.

‘Or Ludger plans something solely against Aint.’

Or perhaps some cultist in the shadows was nudging Ludger into making those decisions.

Fernan considered every possibility. Whatever the truth, now was not the time to make a call.

“Why are you staring so much…? Ah, Senior Alkan, right?”

Luina noticed his gaze.

“And the other two are Aint Armian and Valoshi Bienderk? Looks like Alkan sent them the invitation.”

“You recognize them quickly.”

“I’ve been observing. And even if I weren’t, who wouldn’t recognize those two even with a mask?”

And she was right.

Since the entrance ceremony, both Valoshi and Aint had been surrounded by rumors.

Seeing them board with the invitation, Fernan offered his hand to Luina.

“Let’s go. Should I call you ‘my lady’ now?”

Luina looked at him seriously.

“How cheesy. Is it necessary to hold my hand?”

“Aren’t we partners for this?”

It wasn’t mandatory to link arms as partners. Sometimes they did, but that wasn’t the case now.

Fernan mainly did it to make their relationship clear to others. Regardless, she and Aint were the two people he needed to build a strong relationship with.

‘I’ve invested a lot in this and built some trust.’

Now it was important to show that no one else should try getting too close.

“…Alright.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Luina took his hand. Together, they headed for the ship.

“Welcome, Young Master.”

A staff member of the Golden Turtle Guild, in charge of the yacht, bowed.

“Is everyone here?”

“Yes. The two new members just boarded.”

“Ludger arrived sooner than expected.”

He usually arrived late just to enjoy the spotlight, so this was unusual.

Fernan and Luina boarded the ship.

Inside, soft music played by a small orchestra filled the space. Chefs stood ready to serve fresh food, and masked attendants ensured guests lacked nothing.

Conversations faded as the new guests entered. The attention centered on Fernan and Luina—or at least, it should have.

But the music had stopped. The dishes stopped coming, and the staff stood aside, motionless.

“This is…”

“What an interesting scene.”

The students no longer looked at Fernan and Luina. All attention was fixed elsewhere.

There, just as Fernan had imagined, stood Aint and Ludger.

Armian and Schwaben.

Ludger, with a calm smile, observed his rival.

Aint, on the other hand, was tense, his eyes trembling ever so slightly.

The current and former imperial bloodlines faced off at last.

“There’s no competing with that.”

Not even entering with Luina, nor being the host, could top that clash between the current and former royal bloodlines.

***

“I won’t be able to take you into the banquet hall, Gardner.”

As the agreed hour approached, Aint, checking his attire, unbuckled the sword from his waist and laid it on the bed.

But he had no choice but to pick it back up immediately.

— Don’t worry.

— Remember I told you this sword contains mithril? Mithril not only accepts a soul—it’s also a metal with a wide range of uses.

For example, this.

— It can shrink in size.

The sword, which had previously been a bastard sword, suddenly turned into a small dagger.

In fact, it was so tiny that calling it a “dagger” almost felt unfair.

“Is this even possible?”

Fascinated, Aint kept running his fingers over the miniature weapon.

— Get a cord and wear it around your neck. If you use it as a necklace, no one will suspect a thing.

“That’s exactly what would make it suspicious.”

— Exactly. Either way, you might be about to face the bastard who betrayed the Armian family, so I can’t stay behind.

— I have to see it with my own eyes.

“Betrayer?”

— He was granted the title of elector prince, and yet he betrayed that honor by coveting the throne. How is that not a traitor?

“…Mmm.”

Aint scratched his cheek without saying a word. It was the First Emperor who had established the law that the throne would not be inherited, but chosen by the electors.

Aint chose not to bring that up.

Because, regardless of the reasoning or origins, it was true that the Schwaben family had taken the throne and paved the way for the fall of the Armians.

So from his point of view, he didn’t look on them kindly either.

“Anyway… what could be the real reason I was invited? They say the one who gave me the invitation is close to Ludger Schwaben.”

— And what’s strange about that? It’s probably one of these four options.

“Four?”

— First, Ludger Schwaben has his own agenda.

Second prince of the Empire, someone who clearly bears a grudge against Aint.

As a core member of the Yacht Club, it was highly likely he was behind it all.

— Second option, Fernan Pellenberg has his own plans.

The merchant who gave you the “Heart of the Saint bird” without hesitation, and who recently made a deal involving adamantite.

He was also part of the Yacht Club. In fact, it was said that his influence transformed a simple social club into the current Yacht Club.

— Third, Valoshi Bienderk has his own plans.

The heir of a great family who showed inexplicable kindness from the beginning. Neither Aint nor Gardner could grasp his true intentions.

“And the last one? Is there anyone else who has the authority to send invitations?”

— That Valoshi Bienderk is just insane.

The last option was half a joke.

Valoshi didn’t seem crazy, at least not based on what they’d seen so far. Still, it was clear he was hiding something.

And then, the conclusion appeared before him.

“At the Academy, we follow Academy rules. Here, we are all equals.”

— So it was the first one.

“But that only applies to students in the same year. Aint Armian, as your senior, I expect at least a minimum of courtesy, respect, and formality from a junior.”

He had arrived sooner than expected.