Aelio Public Magic Academy was established by the Royal Family of the Kingdom of Lotus, and it was so lavish that it looked more like the residence of some great noble than a school.
Walking anywhere inside the Academy, one could feel the extravagant atmosphere pressing in from all directions.
The ground was paved with smooth, neat stone bricks, and the gardens boasted dozens of varieties of flowers.
At the heart of the Academy stood a rather large Fountain, powered by magic.
In the center of the pool was a Statue—not particularly tall, but exquisitely crafted.
Every inch of its skin’s texture was clear, and its pose was so vivid it seemed almost lifelike.
The only odd thing was that the Statue’s face was blurred, indistinct; only the gentle curves of the entire sculpture allowed one to tell that it depicted a woman.
In this world, only the faces of the gods among mortals remained shrouded in obscurity.
That’s right, this Statue was of the Goddess of Magic.
Unlike the Church, which forbade statues of the gods from appearing anywhere but churches to prevent the goddess’s holiness and purity from being defiled by ill-intentioned people, the Goddess of Magic, one of the Five Principal Gods, had no exclusive Church of her own.
Anyone with magical talent and a heart yearning for magic could have a statue of the goddess.
In fact, it had been proven that such devotion did not increase one’s magical talent, yet mortals always revered the generous goddess all the more.
Three girls, together with the other students, entered the academic building and then arrived at their own classroom.
The classroom was spacious, tiered like an auditorium, so even those sitting in the last row could see the teacher on the platform clearly.
Yet even so, one’s seat in the classroom still determined one’s standing among the students.
Incidentally, academies in this world were a bit different from the schools Hill had attended in her previous life.
Students were grouped by classroom, and instead of being named with simple numbers, classes were named after their supervising teachers.
Hill’s class was under the care of a Sequence II Mage—a gray-haired old man, whose speech was precise and behavior thoroughly noble.
His name was Inkes, and so this classroom was called the Classroom of Inkes.
Students would remain here until graduation, learning all sorts of knowledge.
Upon entering the class, many greeted Hill and her companions with friendly smiles, followed by some flowery but formulaic compliments.
Helena’s liveliness and charm, Ottis’s grace and elegance, and Hill…well, judging by looks alone, she was like an angel fallen to the mortal realm, but her circumstances drew much pity.
It was terribly impolite to express sympathy for others in public, for that might be mistaken as looking down on them, so the well-bred students present refrained from such displays and treated Hill as always.
Hill was used to this, having long since seen through the truth behind those smiling faces.
After taking her seat, Hill remembered the day’s schedule, and her expression changed slightly.
Damn! Elven Language class first thing in the morning!
Elven Language was a compulsory subject at every magic academy, since the southern Elven Empire was one of the world’s most powerful nations, and Elven Language was recognized worldwide as the most elegant and anciently mysterious language.
Nearly all human nobles took pride in being able to speak fluent Elven Language.
At high society tea parties or balls, one would be shocked to find that almost no one spoke in the common tongue.
Each year’s outstanding graduates were often those able to fluently deliver speeches in Elven Language before the Headmaster and honored Guests.
But unfortunately, Hill had always been mediocre in magical talent—and utterly hopeless in language skills.
Every time, every single time!
Whether in the past or as she was now, Hill’s grades in Elven Language were beyond words.
Let’s put it this way: At Aelio Public Magic Academy, S was the highest grade in most courses, F the lowest—failing.
Hill’s Elven Language grades lingered perpetually between F and E, as if she was trapped in some kind of ‘no-XX-no-escape’ labyrinth.
It was truly despairing!
And now, Hill was even more desperate—she hadn’t finished this week’s Elven Language homework!
In her panic, her gaze landed on a certain ‘savior’—a girl whose Elven Language grades were nearly always A, and sometimes even reached a perfect S.
Yes, that’s right.
Miss Ottis, whose magical talent was as average as ever—though the goddess had closed one door for her, she’d left open a window.
Ottis’s aptitude for Elven Language was famous throughout the Academy; even the strict old mage Inkes frequently praised her, saying Ottis was a “born elf,” a child blessed by the nonexistent “goddess of elegance.”
“I, the clever, beautiful, quick-witted, lovable, and kind Miss Ottis.”
The one who spoke was not Hill, but Helena, who had excellent magical talent yet was hopeless at Elven Language.
This adorable girl was practically draped across Ottis, the impressive peaks of her chest—so unlike her peers, and of such awe-inspiring magnitude—rubbing against Ottis’s arm.
Seeing this, and wishing to spare her own palms from Inkes’s dreadful ruler, Hill copied Helena’s actions and hugged Ottis’s other arm.
But, with the barren lands upon her own chest, so sparse even the Goddess of Abundance might shake her head and wonder if she’d missed a spot during her ascension, she couldn’t compare to Helena’s jaw-dropping spectacle.
Still, it was enough.
After all, as a noble-born girl as pure as Ottis, how could she withstand such teasing?
Unable to resist her friends’ pleas, Ottis pulled out her homework book and placed it on the desk, saying feebly, “I knew you’d do this. Go ahead and copy, but be careful not to let Teacher Inkes catch you.”
“Yay!” Helena’s cheeks looked flushed.
No matter how bold her earlier actions, they were possible only between friends.
With permission obtained, she immediately stopped her embarrassing antics.
Hill, on the other hand, was much bolder.
Taking advantage of the fact that nearly everyone in the classroom was absorbed in their own assignments, Hill quietly and gently leaned toward Ottis.
A noble girl raised in luxury, every part of her body looked as delicately crafted as a doll.
Guided by a deep-seated longing, Hill brought her somewhat thin lips close to Ottis’s earlobe, and, seizing the moment, gently nipped it at lightning speed.
The coolness, the incomparable softness, and the faint tickle of her breath…
Ottis shivered all over, nearly collapsing in her seat, the unprecedented stimulation nearly bringing tears to her eyes and dissolving her carefully maintained composure in an instant.
“I like you the most, kind Ottis.”
Hill’s lips left these words before departing.
By the time Ottis turned around, angry and embarrassed, to demand an explanation, Hill was already busy with her pen, bent over copying Elven Language homework, paying no attention to Ottis’s shame and indignation.
The other students had not noticed the fleeting scene, each absorbed in their own affairs.
As if… nothing had happened at all?
Ottis’s cheeks burned fiercely.
Raised under strict noble discipline, when had she ever been so intimate with anyone?
But Hill…how did she become like this?
She’d always been so shy before—so self-abased after her family’s downfall that she barely spoke…
Ottis’s mind was in turmoil.
But thinking carefully, perhaps Hill had changed because the pressure was simply too great?
She’d heard that some people would become completely different after experiencing major upheaval; perhaps Hill was just such a case.
Over the past month, she had indeed witnessed this for herself.
With this thought, Ottis’s compassion only grew deeper.
The Hamilton Family’s undeserved misfortune had ended up being shouldered by a girl not yet of age.
【Destiny】 truly was a carriage driven by 【Disaster】, able to travel smoothly only on roads paved with 【Injustice】.
Damn those bloodkin, damn those vampires!
At that moment, the well-mannered, Elven Language-proficient Ottis inwardly hurled the harshest curses she could muster at the bloodkin.
But then…
“Achoo!”
Hill, who was diligently copying her homework, suddenly let out a huge sneeze.
Her Elven Language script, already messy, now sprawled crookedly across the page, leaving a decidedly inelegant mark on the desk.