Chapter 156

Chapter 156.

Upon my return to Hazen, the very first thing I attended to, having finally secured the Thousand Origin Art thesis from Parun, was paying a visit to Senior Teheman, our chief librarian.

“You took your time getting back. Did your affairs conclude successfully?”

“They did, thank you for your kind consideration.”

I offered my regrets for exceeding the intended schedule before detailing my upcoming journey to Brando, requesting his leave.

To my relief, Senior Teheman showed no irritation and even offered his blessings for my venture to Brando.

Naturally, it came with a catch.

“I gathered these reference materials just in case, and it seems they will finally find a purpose.”

“These are…”

He produced a stack of parchment roughly as thick as the span of my hand.

As I stared blankly, a self-satisfied expression spread across Senior Teheman’s features.

“Since I cannot permit you to remove Lafiter’s original volumes from the premises, I selected a choice few and compiled a summary. It falls short of the source texts, but surely it outclasses having nothing at all, does it not?”

The sheer meticulousness of the man was terrifying.

“Be advised, there will be a brief examination waiting for you upon your return. I expect you to digest the material thoroughly, neglecting no part of it.”

“I am moved to tears.”

“From sheer delight?”

“…Precisely.”

And just like that, I found myself weighed down by unrequested holiday assignments.

Following that encounter, I utilized the communication crystal Demian had provided to establish contact with the Brando household.

Perplexingly, it was Ransi who answered rather than Demian, and her response indicated that she would personally travel to Hazen.

Consequently, for the subsequent days, I remained secluded within my quarters, evading the gaze of Shine while relentlessly consuming Senior Teheman’s assigned reading as I waited.

“Nngh.”

In preparation for my appointment with Ransi, I took a seat in a quiet Hazen coffee shop and lengthened my tight muscles.

With a few moments remaining before our scheduled hour, I unfurled Senior Teheman’s condensed notes once more, immediately feeling a sharp ache throb behind my eyes.

‘He expects me to commit all of this to memory?’

I had dismissed it lightly because it was described as a mere abstract, which proved to be a catastrophic miscalculation.

Granted, the sheer volume was absurd for a compilation, yet I had rationalized that it would still be preferable to wading through dozens of full-length tomes.

The blank spaces represented parchment, while the dark ink clearly mirrored my bleak prospects.

Every solitary word was entirely recognizable on its own, but the manner in which they were chained together defied comprehension. It reached a point where I began questioning my own literacy.

“Phew.”

Taking a draught of my beverage, I was about to force my attention back onto the text when a voice cut through the air.

“Aster-nim, have you been waiting long?”

“Ah, Ransi…”

The name slipped out from muscle memory, causing my jaw to lock mid-sentence.

‘How did I address her previously?’

The memory eluded me.

In my internal monologue, I always regarded her simply as Ransi, but I had certainly never adopted such an informal tone aloud.

Yet attempting terms like “Miss Ransi,” “Lady Ransi,” or “Young Lady Ransi” felt incredibly unnatural on my tongue.

“Please use whatever form of address feels most natural to you.”

“Ah… understood.”

“In that case, I shall procure a beverage first.”

“Ah… of course.”

As formal honorifics spilled from my lips automatically, a thought struck me:

‘If choosing an honorific is this uncomfortable… perhaps I should simply avoid addressing her by name entirely?’

Indeed, omitting the title altogether would eliminate the awkwardness entirely.

By the time I settled the naming dilemma in my mind, Ransi had returned with her drink and occupied the seat directly across from me.

“Have you been faring well…”

“Allow me a moment to catch my breath. I have only just stepped through the warp gate. I beg your indulgence.”

“Ah… certainly.”

A tense quiet settled between us.

It endured only briefly before Ransi broke the silence.

“If you are inquiring after my well-being… indeed, I have been managing well enough.”

“Ah… glad to hear it.”

“And what of your own well-being, Aster-nim?”

“It has been fine.”

“That brings me comfort. However, the purpose of my visit today involves a matter requiring your understanding, Aster-nim.”

“…?”

Ransi adjusted her posture, straightening her back.

Her shift in demeanor caused me to tilt my head inquisitively, and it wasn’t long before she unveiled the issue.

“In regards to your enrollment at the Academy, a particular subordinate household has voiced objections.”

At this stage of the game?

Months had already rolled by since my matriculation into the institution.

Furthermore, there hadn’t been the slightest murmur of discontent back then.

Granted, even if an uproar had occurred, I would have lacked the means to discover it—yet if the friction had been that severe, Gamo Bianca would never have authorized my entry into the Academy to begin with.

‘Regardless of how much potential I might exhibit, she wouldn’t instigate internal strife merely to champion my cause.’

“The true objective of my journey today, Aster-nim, is to apprise you of these developments and, concurrently…”

While I was occupied analyzing this bizarre turn of events from every conceivable angle, Ransi’s voice pulled me back.

“Would you entertain the idea of deferring your trip to the principal estate for the time being?”

First, I remained motionless, deliberately sorting through the components of the situation.

It wasn’t particularly alarming so much as it was utterly preposterous.

My initial query arose.

“Does it carry any logical weight for a subordinate house to interfere in an institutional matter regarding the Academy?”

A vassal house remained a vassal house.

They might wield a minor degree of influence within Brando, but challenging the decrees of Lady Gamo was an act that simply did not take place.

Only then did Ransi begin to dissect the underlying reality of the matter.

To summarize briefly, the situation stood as follows.

“On paper, you are presently designated as a sponsored dependent of Brando, Aster-nim.”

Yet, unlike a standard dependent who commits to serving the Brando lineage upon completing their education, I carried no reciprocal responsibilities whatsoever.

To put it another way, the arrangement existed solely on a foundation of benevolence.

“Were you aware? The Academy records similarly classify you as a dependent under Brando’s patronage, Aster-nim. Consequently, the moment the academic period concluded, your performance evaluation was delivered directly to the estate.”

“And that yields…?”

An indistinct wave of anxiety washed over me.

‘A performance evaluation? Ah… those are a reality.’

The thought had completely slipped my mind.

Yet, hold on. My academic standing wasn’t poor enough to trigger a genuine crisis… right?

Ransi immediately validated my rising apprehension.

“You neglected to present yourself for the practical close-quarters martial assessment. Furthermore, your record indicates several unexcused absences.”

“…”

“Additionally, the evaluation forwarded to a dependent’s benefactor contains extensive observations withheld from the pupil—details regarding your dedication to your coursework. Furthermore…”

I swallowed hard.

“The altercation involving the second heir of House Dolanpe was documented meticulously. That carried substantial negative weight.”

“Which implies…”

“Indeed. Several senior members of the primary estate expressed reservations concerning your academic discipline, Aster-nim. Most notably regarding the friction centered on the second heir of House Dolanpe.”

Essentially, I had handed them the perfect weapon on a silver platter.

Having articulated that point, Ransi paused to moisten her throat with her beverage before maintaining her composed delivery.

Regrettably, the complication didn’t conclude there.

“I withheld this previously to spare you needless anxiety, but additional observations have been raised regarding your personal decorum, Aster-nim.”

There was more to come?

As I stared at her in sheer skepticism, Ransi dispassionately enumerated the infractions, large and small.

“Young Master Demian began utilizing profanity upon his arrival back at the primary residence.”

“Come now, he has reached an age where an occasional oath is hardly unprecedented…”

“Granted. Yet the critical detail is that he abstained from such language previously. ‘Curse it,’ ‘infernal hell,’ ‘what in creation,’ and identical phrases—he has adopted a remarkably colorful array of vulgarities as regular punctuation.”

Upon witnessing this transformation, the caretaker responsible for Demian’s upbringing since infancy reportedly lost consciousness on the spot.

‘…What?’

He had never exhibited such tendencies within the confines of the Academy.

“Naturally, I do not hold the view that this development rests entirely upon your shoulders, Aster-nim. When peers of a similar age associate, they frequently absorb negative habits. It is, in a sense, predictable. On the other hand.”

…Still more?

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘Blood, Sweat and Tears’?”

“Blood… sweat… tears?”

“Perhaps it would clarify matters if I referenced the draconic monument? The structure adorned with countless individual scales, engineered to discharge actual combustion from its maw.”

“…Ah.”

The moment the draconic monument was invoked, the recollection flooded back instantaneously.

But wait a moment.

“Was that designated as Version One? Or Version Two?”

“It constituted Version Two originally, but when the aquatic reservoir intended as Version One faced cancellation, the draconic monument assumed the primary designation.”

That individual had certainly elevated his ambitions—no, now was not the moment for such thoughts.

The numeric sequence lacked relevance at present.

“What is the issue concerning that project…?”

“I intended to shield you from this documentation, but… grant me a brief moment.”

Ransi’s fingers plunged into her dimensional storage vessel, emerging shortly thereafter with a compilation of parchments.

She navigated to the rear of the bundle and extended it toward me.

“This represents…”

“The finalized financial allocation for Blood, Sweat and Tears Version One. It bears the explicit authorization of Lady Gamo herself.”

“…”

Units, tens, hundreds…

I initiated a tally of the numerical digits detailed within the financial ledger, only to halt and give my head a brief, dismissive shake.

“This is surely an error…”

“You recognize the extravagance of it. I find that reassuring. Yet according to the testimony of Young Master Demian, you were the individual responsible for drafting the blueprint for Blood, Sweat and Tears Version One, Aster-nim.”

Pardon me? Myself?

“I was informed that you composed the operational strategy for his benefit.”

“…”

With her prompting, the memory resurfaced.

I had incorporated every preposterous concept that crossed my mind, operating under the firm conviction that it stood zero chance of receiving authorization.

Hold on, wait a beat.

“However, that was intended as…”

“You presumed it would face rejection?”

“…Precisely.”

“Aster-nim, Young Master Demian represents the future lineage of Brando.”

With that solitary declaration, the entire scenario became coherent.

While I might have submitted the outline as a practical joke, the laborers tasked with manifest execution… alongside everyone else involved… had expended genuine blood, sweat, and tears.

“And Lady Gamo genuinely authorized it without revision?”

“Indeed. She bound herself to her pledge.”

“Regardless of any oath undertaken, how can such an outcome be considered remotely rational…”

“This is the House of Brando.”

The operating logic of a prominent dynasty differed fundamentally from my own perspective.

“Furthermore, it did not escape all fiscal oversight. The reservoir initiative was abandoned strictly due to cost constraints. Inceptionally, the monument faced cancellation as well, but you were the one who advocated for the preservation of the draconic structure, were you not, Aster-nim?”

“…”

“I confess to total bewilderment. The monument demanded expenditures exceeding the construction of the reservoir itself.”

At this juncture, I found myself entirely depleted of arguments.

My sole recourse was to drop my gaze, incapable of even uttering a basic expression of regret.

“Well, in truth, that aspect remains manageable. Specifically, financial projections indicate that erecting the monument within Brando’s central plaza will entice external travelers. Over an extended duration, the capital can be recovered. On the flip side…”

On the flip side?

“The initial sticker shock proved overwhelming. The bureaucratic staff panicked, going so far as to deliver a formal grievance to the senior council. The council, in turn, routed that grievance directly to Lady Gamo.”

“What…?”

“Do you wish to learn the contents of their message?”

Faced with the offer, I gave a silent, negative motion of my head.

“No.”

“A prudent determination.”

To the administrative core, Blood, Sweat and Tears Version One must have represented an absolute nightmare. They had only managed to extract a modicum of value from it through an incredibly charitable assessment.

Yet, hold on.

Even accepting all of that, it still lacked internal consistency for “a subordinate house” to weaponize my Academy admission as a point of contention.

“Then why is it a vassal house leading the charge…?”

In response to my inquiry, Ransi briefly shut her eyes.

“It does not represent an ordinary subordinate lineage.”

“In that case…?”

I pushed for clarification gently, but she merely offered a faint, negative gesture.

“It exceeds my authority to elaborate further on that topic.”

What? A subordinate house was simply a subordinate house. What could possibly differentiate this one from the norm?

My thoughts stalled at that boundary.

Then Ransi unclosed her eyes, resuming her narrative in a measured cadence.

“Regardless, the subordinate family is capitalizing on those events as a convenient justification to create difficulties for you, Aster-nim. Rest assured, all of this will be straightened out in due course.”

“By what means…”

I severed my own sentence.

Even to my own ears, that constituted an unintelligent query.

Short of the primary patriarch, Lady Gamo’s word carried total dominion. She possessed the capacity to crush an administrative uprising through sheer exercise of authority if she so chose.

Regardless of how “distinctive” this specific subordinate family might be, that reality remained immutable.

It simply demanded a brief window of time to resolve the friction seamlessly.

In any event.

“Should you journey to Brando at this juncture, the representatives of that subordinate house would subject you to relentless scrutiny on any imaginable pretext. Naturally, they would stop short of overtly offending a guest of Young Master Demian, but…”

“One must credit those aristocratic bastards—their methods are incredibly underhanded.”

“…?”

Ah. An involuntary lapse in decorum.

“Ahem. That is to say, there exist myriad subtle methods to undermine a person’s standing.”

“Indeed. For that reason, I advise that you defer your arrival until the representatives of that house have departed. Or until the friction settles.”

“Which translates to…”

“At the very earliest, following the conclusion of the seasonal recess.”

Absorbing her words, a particular phrase frequently uttered by Demian suddenly flashed through my consciousness.

“Nonsense.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

“Demian characterizes a dynamic of this nature as ‘pure nonsense.'”

“What exactly does that imply…”

Observing Ransi display a rare flash of bewilderment, I declared my intentions with conviction.

“I shall proceed. To Brando.”

Righteousness is forged within the crucible of antagonism.

“The factions of malice?”

I refused to yield.

Not a chance in this world.