Chapter 11
The wand adorned with transparent cubic crystals was an item issued to second-year students of the Magic Department.
This meant the person who had picked up the handkerchief in Ian's place was a second-year magic student.
An unspoken rule dictated that upperclassmen did not interfere in inter-department clashes during the orientation period.
Yet the figure before them had fearlessly retrieved the handkerchief regardless.
“I asked you a question. Do you intend to disrupt Sonokin’s sacred duel? Even as an upperclassman, I won’t forgive you!”
“Sacred duel?”
The mysterious figure finally spoke, startling Ian.
The voice, clear and deliberate, belonged to a woman. Only then did Ian notice the small frame concealed beneath the cloak.
“How amusing. To attach such sacred pretensions to something so trivial.”
She removed her hood.
Lemon-gold hair cascaded outward. Though Ian couldn’t properly see her face from behind, the crowd’s reaction was telling. The drab hood’s removal created an illusion of the world itself brightening.
“Who is she?”
“An absolute beauty!”
“Since when did Sonokin have someone like this?”
Only then did Ian piece together her identity.
If his assumptions were correct, this was the so-called genius of the Magic Department:
An eccentric who chose theoretical studies despite her prodigious talent,
The continent’s most renowned beauty,
Yet a tragic noble born into a vassal state’s count family, shackled by her origins.
“Isera Heburaim.”
The name slipped from someone’s lips, instantly shifting Helios’s demeanor.
“Well now! If it isn’t Lady Isera of House Heburaim! The rumors of your beauty scarcely do you justice. I’d hoped to share a dance upon our proper introduction, but never imagined our meeting would come so soon.”
Helios smirked as he tucked the handkerchief into his coat, effortlessly dissolving the duel.
“Might I have the honor of kissing your noble hand?”
He bent his arm in an exaggerated bow, but Isera did not extend hers. Helios rose with strained composure.
“How... embarrassing. I’d heard of your frosty reputation, but this exceeds expectation.”
“Do you grasp the meaning of staying in one’s lane?”
“Hahaha! Perhaps! But I am Sonokin’s prince—is that not qualification enough?”
His words carried the subtle weight of her vassal status, yet Isera’s glacial expression remained unshaken.
House Heburaim owed no allegiance to Sonokin Kingdom. They were counts of neighboring Rolland, now reduced to a vassal state with an uncertain future. Here she stood, striving within Sonokin’s Royal Academy.
“His Majesty will soon arrive. How disappointed he would be to learn his cherished son tarnishes both Academy regulations and the Sun King’s legacy.”
“Are you threatening me now?”
“I am enforcing rules.”
Isera did not relent. Mystical azure light began swirling around her wand—a display of such formidable magic that it baffled observers why she’d chosen theoretical pursuits.
“Leave at once, or I will report your misconduct. Surely you don’t wish for disciplinary proceedings before orientation?”
“Do you think I came here willingly?”
“Why would I care? Your life holds no interest for me.”
Helios’s face contorted briefly before settling into a covetous smile. He bowed again.
“We’ll meet again soon, Lady Isera. Next time in more... private accommodations.”
She let his vulgar remark slide off like water. As Helios turned with his entourage, the confrontation ended in stalemate.
Then Isera shifted her gaze to Ian.
He felt the full weight of her icy stare for the first time.
“Thank you... Senior.”
Though she didn’t wait for his bow, Ian inclined his head again. The blue light around her wand vanished as if it had never been. Hood restored, she walked away, student eyes trailing her like moths.
Yet today’s protagonist remained Ian. Magic Department freshmen swarmed him—including roommates Milo and Edel.
“You suicidal bastard! We thought you were done for!”
“Thank the stars you’re safe!”
Though they’d met mere hours ago, they already felt like lifelong comrades. Ian chuckled.
“You saw everything?”
“Now I understand ‘scared to death’!” Milo spat. “When that handkerchief flew—and you tried grabbing it?! Is your head ornamental?! Do words enter through your ass?!”
Despite the crassness, Ian found it oddly comforting. “I tried avoiding it too. Let’s head back first.”
Milo gulped water the moment they entered their dorm, slumping into a chair with relief.
“Phew... So Ian. You and Isera—old acquaintances?”
“Since when? Weren’t you the recluse?”
“Secretly harboring a crush? Ancient history! But rumors’ll shift after today. Saw the others’ faces?”
He had.
This wasn’t about appearances. Ian had upheld the Magic Department’s honor, proving individuals could defy even royal might—a nuance distinct from treason.
“Still, it was magnificent! Especially when you invoked the Sun King!” Edel’s cheeks flushed. Milo nodded beside him.
“Even I felt it! Someone with your guts’ll go far. Let’s stick together, friend!”
“I-I’d like that too...”
Ian felt the weight—one roommate too brash, the other unnervingly gentle.
No matter. It’s temporary.
After orientation’s magic aptitude tests, their interest would wane. Being dead last would be a mercy with his meager power.
Yet he wasn’t disheartened. The Academy would show him the path to greatness.
“Sudden request—I need your help post-orientation.”
“With what?”
“Brewing potions.”
Their eyes widened.
“Why make them? Just buy from shops.”
“A project with Professor Frost.”
“Professor Frost? The newly famous scholar?”
Edel’s exclamation earned twin glares. He covered his mouth.
“S-sorry! I mean... sorry.”
“Ease up, friend.”
Ian continued, “I’ve been researching potioncraft. With Academy facilities, I want to experiment.”
“Already meeting professors? Impressive hustle!”
“Just introductory visits.”
“Why potions? Enchantments are trendier.”
“Personal reasons.”
Not yet. He’d explain after stabilizing his venture and resolving matters with Hamel Merchants.
“I’m in!”
“Deciding so fast? It’ll be tedious.”
“You’ve got guts—that’s future success. Early investment!”
“Me too! My parents are healers—I’ve handled herbs since childhood.”
As expected—Edel’s reason for pursuing healing studies.
“How’d you enter through special admissions? Skip if uncomfortable.”
“Oh! I meant to ask!”
“My father... served as a military surgeon. Earned honors in the Sorol War.”
“The Sorol War?”
“Yes!”
The Sorol War—Sonokin’s conquest of neighboring Rolland. Isera herself hailed from Rolland’s nobility.
“Good. Let’s outline plans.”
Ian explained Professor Frost’s involvement, including her dorm visits.
“But double efficacy with basic ingredients? Impossible!”
“I know that.”
“S-sorry!”
“You’ve got a plan?”
Ian nodded toward alchemical devices at the room’s rear.
“Need modifications. I’ll explain post-orientation.”
“Exciting! What’ll you make?”
“First—rules.”
Ian locked eyes with Edel, who flinched.
“From now, 10,000 shillings fine each time you use honorifics. Fix it before Professor Frost arrives.”
“That’s a week’s allowance!”
“I’ll allow credit.”
“Cruel...”
Milo cackled as Edel slumped.
The Mana Speaker crackled to life:
― Academy entrance ceremony commencing shortly. All freshmen assemble at the Grand Hall immediately. Repeat—
The Grand Hall’s opulence overwhelmed—Sonokin Academy’s crown jewel, the only indoor space accommodating all students.
Roommate dispositions diverged here:
Milo, the boisterous charmer, scanned for attractive peers. Edel gaped at vaulted ceilings.
“Wow! It’s breathtaking!”
“10,000 shillings.”
“I—I was just muttering!”
“20,000.”
“...”
Milo laughed. “I’ll be rich!”
Ian surveyed the hall.
Security’s intense for the King’s visit.
Knights in gilded armor and royal mages formed an imposing cordon—more symbolic display than necessity, given Academy security.
Yet students eyed them with longing. Membership in royal orders brought familial glory.
“That bastard...”
“The one who stood up to the Prince?”
“Ian Oracle.”
Glowers came from Combat Department students. Ian ignored them, joining Magic freshmen.
