Chapter 251

Chapter 251 – Huh? Why Me?

After utilizing a Mana Shower to completely scrub down Lucifer’s frame, I dedicated some hours to instructing him in various arcane methods before making my way to our designated gathering location.

The moment I laid out the plan for our self-reliance initiative, Lucifer blinked rapidly, his expression shifting to pure skepticism at the notion of cultivating tubers across such a wide, desolate expanse.

“Are you saying crops will truly develop in this barren soil?”

“Absolutely. Just observe. Consider this an educational moment. Mind you, this whole endeavor would be entirely out of reach if not for Riheim sunbae and Myselrn sunbae. Though, naturally, the most remarkable element of this equation is myself.”

“……”

What was the meaning of that expression?

A wave of scorn suddenly replaced the reverence that had filled his gaze only a second before.

Did this boy require some physical correction to mend his attitude?

Right as I was clenching and releasing my hand, wrestling with my internal aggravation, Myselrn sunbae’s voice cut through the air toward me.

“Move it along. Our schedule is tight.”

“What’s the rush?”

“You didn’t catch the news? The grand duke’s… rather, Riheim’s pupil is entering the academy. We have an immense amount of preparation waiting for us once we finish here.”

Ah, that was right. Obern was joining the ranks of the academy freshmen, wasn’t he?

‘Which means he is officially my junior now.’

As that realization settled in, Myselrn sunbae’s voice sounded right next to my ear once more.

“On that note, you…”

“Drop it.”

“Haha, alright, I’ll stop. Still, isn’t it quite something? Your junior status has evolved into a real leadership role. Riheim’s pupil seems to hold you in high regard. I imagine he’s ecstatic…”

Seizing upon the moment, Myselrn sunbae persisted in mocking me with a sly smirk playing on his face.

What an irritation.

I let his words enter one ear and pass right out the other while transitioning over toward Riheim sunbae, who caught sight of me at that precise moment.

“Ah, you’ve arrived.”

“Yes, sunbae.”

Riheim sunbae offered a gentle grin.

Indeed, this embodied the true poise of an experienced sorcerer…

“The heavily occupied tower leader honors us with his presence. Quite a privilege. Because my pupil’s upperclassman is appearing, the boy has been rushing around verifying the spell arrays across this field all morning, running his elderly mentor ragged.”

“……”

“Haha, I’m not uttering this for your benefit. Merely conversing. Do you spot him over there? Obern is signaling to you with such joy… Is the Tower Lord’s arm too heavy to lift? Oh, I wouldn’t presume to command you to gesture back. What right does an old man have to dictate terms to the hidden savior of the Second Black-White Slums, the great Tower Lord? Haha.”

“……”

This fellow certainly knew how to drag out a grudge.

With great reluctance, I offered a brief wave in Obern’s direction.

“Put some actual vigor into that gesture.”

“……Ah, fine.”

I gave a more energetic wave back to Obern. The swifter he responded, the quicker I could move things along.

Regardless, following that spirited encounter with Obern.

“Let us commence, Riheim.”

“Are your arrangements finalized?”

“My portion was completed an eternity ago. The delay lies with you.”

“Mm. Understood.”

Riheim sunbae beckoned Obern from across the field, then addressed the Svetlana organization member standing nearby.

“Over here.”

The operative came forward hauling a large bag filled with seed potatoes meant for cultivation. Yet it wasn’t a solitary load.

Tons of additional personnel trooped out behind him carrying identical bundles.

A portion of them arrived with empty hands—the laborers designated for the collection phase once the crops matured.

Consequently, with several hundred individuals assembled—comprising not only Svetlana’s crew but also reinforcements pulled from neighboring sectors…

“Commence.”

Riheim sunbae gave the order to initiate the operation.

Myselrn sunbae commanded Fury to distribute the seed potatoes across the expanse. Immediately after, magical energy began to pulsate through the atmosphere.

Vzzzz—

A massive protective enchantment manifested.

The climate transformed, the soil shifted and vibrated with newfound vitality. Heavy storm clouds rapidly saturated the enclosed space with rainfall, and winds rich with life began to blow.

In the center of this display,

I activated my circle, steering the ambient magical currents.

Moments later—

Snap, crackle…!

Vibrant green foliage began breaking through the frozen winter terrain.

As the massive landscape became blanketed in creeping flora, my circle spinning at its absolute capacity, a sudden realization washed over me.

…It genuinely felt as though the stains of violence on my palms were being cleansed away.

In that very instant, the motivation driving Riheim sunbae and Myselrn sunbae to commit themselves to this work became clear to me.

And with that, our break reached its conclusion.

Seated within a grand carriage bearing the distinctive emblem of the imperial family.

Bellrose, the third princess representing the Aderian Empire, was deeply engrossed in a dense volume of magical scholarship.

Her striking, imperial crimson locks caught the rays of dawn, while her gaze remained fixed on the intricate concepts of sorcery.

Suddenly, a silhouette cast a shadow directly across from her position.

“……”

A warrior clad entirely in a dark tunic offered a silent, respectful nod.

Shortly after, Bellrose shut her text.

“What is the status of the intelligence I requested?”

“The confrontation along the boundaries between Lortel and Decullan is intense. The balance of power is too even to project a victor—the conflict seems destined to persist.”

“Who commands the respective forces?”

“For Lortel: the Four Swords, Three Swords, and the Young Patriarch. For Decullan: the recently elevated Seven Mage Holland alongside the third Seven Mage.”

A pair from the Ten Swords and a pair of Seven Mages…

“So they are refraining from an all-out engagement.”

“They possess too much mutual history.”

Undoubtedly.

The two lineages, enduring adversaries for generations, recognized better than anyone the capabilities of their opposition.

The warrior’s precise breakdown carried on.

By its conclusion, the third princess deduced that this conflict would not endure for an extended period.

Holding back their primary forces indicated that both factions stood prepared to disengage at a moment’s notice.

‘My imperial father cannot possibly be blind to these intentions.’

Once the resolve of both lineages had been tested, the throne would step in to negotiate a resolution shortly.

The crown would never permit a singular power to grow overly dominant under the banner of triumph.

The two aristocratic factions would reluctantly agree, putting on a show of displeasure.

“…We no longer need to distress ourselves over the conflict.”

“Correct. Your Highness is free to concentrate entirely on your transition to academy life.”

“The academy…”

Hearing the term, the third princess directed her gaze out the carriage pane.

A vast terrain rolled past outside—the boundaries of Hazen city were approaching rapidly.

What sort of environment would the academy prove to be?

She had stepped onto the grounds previously for the Pistinike Award event, yet the rhythm of everyday existence there remained difficult to envision.

Even so.

‘…I hope it proves entertaining.’

The imperial court had become utterly oppressive.

Particularly following the departure of her grandfather, the former ruler.

As anxiety shifted across the third princess’s features, the warrior offered another piece of information.

“Additionally, Your Highness. News obtained this morning during monitoring of the boundary lines…”

“Proceed.”

“The Young Patriarch of Decullan is transferring into the second-year Basic Class M3 for this term. Jenion is validating his prior achievements from Decullan’s independent institution.”

“M3…”

“The enrollment matches the previous year’s structure. Note that Blandoga’s Young Patriarch is situated within it.”

“Which section have I been assigned to?”

“M2, Your Highness.”

“Understood.”

The princess offered a simple nod, displaying minimal intrigue.

Regardless of his title as Decullan’s Young Patriarch, any individual of consequence understood he was merely the black sheep of his lineage.

‘…Dispatched as a mere pawn, without a doubt.’

Provided their courses failed to intersect, she possessed no investment in him.

Yet, a thought occurred to her.

“If the composition mirrors the first year, M3… who exactly was enrolled in M3?”

The third princess knit her brows as she reached for a fading recollection.

“My apologies? Aside from Blandoga’s Young Patriarch, there is no figure of note requiring Your Highness’s consideration. If pressed… perhaps Dinai’s offshoot, Furyon.”

“No, there was another individual. That… scholar who regularly associates with Blandoga’s Young Patriarch.”

The third princess fished out memories of her Pistinike conversation with Principal Schubertz.

He had shared a deep bond with her grandfather, the former ruler—marking him as one of the rare individuals she could speak with sincerely.

Without question, during that period…

• An intriguing individual resides there. You shall encounter him before long, Third Princess. He stands among the recognized recipients.

Indeed, that was the exchange.

She had paid close attention because his transfer was slated for the middle of the prior term, but imperial obligations had postponed his entry until the second year, causing her to lose track of it amidst the subsequent turmoil.

“Ah, the common-born youth named Zenby?”

“…Zenby? Zenby… no, that isn’t it.”

It wasn’t Zenby.

“Hold on…”

Third Princess Bellrose retrieved the correspondence she had maintained with Principal Schubertz throughout the preceding season.

The passages read with the familiarity of a casual dialogue between a young woman and her grandfather. She unfurled the most recent parchment, dispatched following the second-year placement verdicts.

“Ah, the name returns to me.”

“Who might that be…?”

When the warrior inquired with a curious look, the third princess simply dismissed it with a slight grin.

“It is of no consequence. Do not trouble yourself with it.”

“……As you wish.”

The warrior offered a low bow, his inquisitiveness satisfied.

The third princess watched him for a brief second before casting her eyes back down to the message.

The writing stated:

If I may offer counsel, maintain awareness regarding the individual known as Aster. He keeps company with Blandoga’s Young Patriarch, distinguished by muted gray locks and an unpleasant, goblin-like gaze—he is easily identified. I have ensured your schedules remain separate, but maintain your distance from this toxic individual.

His identity was Aster.

‘Aster, Aster…’

Following the passing of her grandfather the former emperor, Third Princess Bellrose had regarded Principal Schubertz with the reverence due to an elder family member.

Their respective titles required them to maintain decorum, yet her respect was entirely authentic.

Still.

What manner of individual could this person possibly be?

Schubertz wouldn’t bother mentioning his name if the boy were truly devoid of merit.

‘For Sir Schubertz to voice such warnings…’

Principal Schubertz remained unaware.

His written warning was destined to yield the exact opposite outcome.

The welcoming ceremony arrived at long last.

“Did your vacation treat you well?”

“It was pleasant, though my enjoyment ends at this exact moment.”

“For what reason?”

“The sight of your face.”

Amidst the throng of energized scholars reconnecting with peers after a long absence, I relocated my belongings with a completely neutral expression.

‘What brilliant mind concluded that reshuffling our quarters was necessary?’

Vacating the first-year residential halls to accommodate incoming novices. A massive inconvenience.

My cargo consisted merely of reference texts, an extra set of attire, and basic necessities—nothing overwhelming, yet incredibly tedious to transport.

Feeling far too unmotivated to utilize a pocket dimension, I dragged the items by hand. Near my side, the dialogue between Damian and Zenby droned on.

“Behold the upgraded Prototype Damian 2. An entirely different beast compared to our initial year.”

“Damian, the sole transformation is your physical stature.”

“That is precisely the victory. Certain individuals haven’t altered in the slightest.”

……That brat had managed to stretch out even further during the recess. Meanwhile, Zenby was finally showing signs of a growth spurt in his limbs.

As for me? I was the solitary figure remaining static. A definitive strike against my self-esteem.

‘Why is this happening? My development phase should be arriving.’

Following that frustrating realization, I rested within my unfamiliar second-year quarters, staring out past the glass pane.

To be completely honest, the previous term had yielded considerable value.

I had secured a highly capable assistant… rather, a companion named Evelyn to assist me, disrupted Decullan’s operations, and successfully acquired Lucifer to secure the prospects of the sorcery tower.

The dilemma?

‘…The upcoming months present the real obstacle.’

I determined that two specific varieties of capability were required.

Primary need: financial administration.

‘…Evelyn possesses that area covered.’

Secondary need: physical enforcement…

‘…As it happens, the academy grounds are a complicated venue for employing such measures.’

I required immediately available combat assets, not developing prospects.

Therefore, I decided to shelve the matter of physical enforcement.

What else did the institution require?

An obvious answer.

‘…Territory.’

Precisely, land.

One cannot claim the title of Tower Lord indefinitely without an actual structure to command.

Lucifer’s inquiry of “But where exactly is our tower?” had generated a thoroughly uncomfortable silence.

“The difficulty lies in…”

Establishing a sorcery stronghold wasn’t as simple as purchasing a plot of dirt.

It required formal notification to the crown and navigating bureaucratic channels—given it wasn’t a standard public archive.

What had Evelyn remarked on the matter?

• I lack insight regarding your ultimate objective, but it resembles an educational blueprint. You require terrain authorized specifically for institutional purposes. A difficult feat. Conventional academies demand extensive documentation for official validation, and… you are well aware of how the administrative offices favor financial incentives.

Hardly a straightforward path.

…Possessing elite backing would simplify the process, but what am I?

An independent operative. Devoid of ancestral lineages or pre-existing networks, working to forge academic alliances as we speak.

‘Lortel remains under the impression that I possess a functional stronghold.’

I held absolutely zero leverage on that front.

‘Hmph. Is there any academy youngster possessing administrative leverage? Formal documentation would suffice—Parun’s would operate effectively, yet I lack connections within that sphere as well.’

I suddenly found myself yearning for Henji’s ledger of accounts that I had previously reduced to ash.

A sudden rapping vibrated against the windowpane.

Thump! Thump thump!

A familiar visage, paired with an obnoxious glare.

“A morning delivery… No. 1?”

I received the brief message he held out.

Dispatched by my senior, the Principal.

……A long-delayed return to the sanctuary.

Within those walls, I received a wholly unanticipated resolution.

It turned out I was acquainted with an academy scholar possessing significant administrative backing.

The identity?

“The third princess is registering for courses this term.”

Precisely. The third princess.

“I requested your presence today to deliver a direct admonition… rather, my junior. Why are your eyes widened to such an extent?”

“Huh? Why me?”

I lacked any inkling of his meaning, but my senior, the Principal, was entirely mistaken.

Mainly because.

My gaze was far more listless and obscured than it had ever been.