July 6, the Capital, St. Nora Sigil Academy
The early morning sunshine spilled across the streets of the Capital, Lucian, coating the ancient city in a layer of gold.
In front of the magnificent, gilded gates of St. Nora Sigil Academy, a crowd of young men and women dressed in brand-new uniforms had already gathered.
Allen stood before these gates—a sight he knew all too well—and watched the freshmen.
Their faces still held a hint of puerility, and their eyes sparkled with either longing or anxiety for the future.
He took a deep breath —
“Solomon! I have returned!”
For many “exam-grinders from small towns” who had struggled through the sea of test-oriented education, even years after becoming members of the workforce, they would occasionally be jolted awake by nightmares of returning to the college entrance exam hall.
For Allen, this Sigil Academy, which implemented elite noble education to its extreme while simultaneously leaving students to their own devices in a manner bordering on neglect, was an equally indelible nightmare from his memories of the cycle of reincarnation.
The reason was simple — within this seemingly glorious ivory tower, the number of deaths he had experienced nearly equaled half the total number of his reincarnations.
If Allen ever gained the power to hurl meteors through the universe, his first target would likely be this academy that had brought him endless painful memories.
Standing beside him, Marianne keenly captured the complex, shifting expressions on Allen’s face.
Knowing that Allen carried the memories of countless painful cycles, a surge of pity welled up in her heart.
She gently took Allen’s hand and spoke in an unprecedentedly tender voice. “Allen, do not worry. I am here.”
Allen was used to Marianne’s image as a yandere maid, so seeing her in a standard academy uniform was a completely different experience.
The well-tailored black uniform jacket perfectly outlined the girl’s developing figure, and the white shirt underneath featured a collar tied with a deep blue silk ribbon in an exquisite knot.
Below the classic checkered skirt was a pair of straight, fair legs encased in black thigh-high socks.
Her neat, short black hair shimmered with a healthy luster in the morning light, and her crimson eyes appeared exceptionally clear and bright. The girl radiated a pure, energetic aura.
She looked exactly like an honor student with a hint of mystery stepped right out of a pure-love school manga.
“Sob… sob…”
Looking at Marianne like this, Allen was momentarily overcome with emotion, and his eyes actually grew moist.
Seeing her master “crying” while looking at her, Marianne was first startled, but then a small sense of pride and sweetness rose in her heart.
The uniform had only been delivered to the estate yesterday, and she had worried whether it would fit properly or look good enough.
Now, it seemed the effect was unexpectedly excellent.
‘Yeah, this outfit really does suit me!’
Marianne was secretly rejoicing, planning to take this opportunity to say a few more intimate words to consolidate her “battle results,” when she heard Allen choke out:
“Sigh, just thinking about the scene of you and Livia both wearing these uniforms, walking side by side down the academy’s tree-lined paths… I feel like my life is so complete that I have no regrets. This is definitely a precious CG that didn’t even exist in the original game! Thinking about it that way, this hateful hell doesn’t seem quite so unpleasant anymore.”
“…”
Hearing Allen’s nonsensical words, Marianne was instantly speechless.
The bit of pride and girlish sentiment that had just risen was extinguished by a bucket of cold water.
“Sigh… this guy is hopeless.”
Marianne sighed in her heart.
She had already given up on correcting Allen’s deeply ingrained, distorted tastes.
Just then, a high-energy voice suddenly rang out. “Hey, you guys are already here!”
The two looked toward the sound to see the hotheaded idiot approaching.
Hugo usually had a casual, unrestrained appearance, and his style of dress rarely had anything to do with “noble etiquette.”
However, after changing into the crisp academy uniform today, his entire temperament had improved significantly.
If he previously looked more like a sun-drenched, chivalric knight, he now truly possessed the air of a count’s son — provided he didn’t open his mouth.
Feeling their gazes, Hugo proudly flipped his hair — which his step-mother, Lady Louise, had specifically spent a lot of time styling for him this morning.
“Well? Handsome, right?”
Allen looked him over a few times and deliberately used a disgusted tone. “If you weren’t so full of yourself, I…”
“Might actually admit you have some modicum of handsomeness. But as for now… I can only say you are still far behind me.”
That said, once Allen put on the uniform himself, his temperament underwent a subtle change.
Perhaps out of a habit formed through countless past cycles, he subconsciously withdrew all his edges.
He looked exceptionally ordinary, even lacking presence, like a “mob” character that could be found anywhere in a background.
He would disappear the moment he blended into a crowd.
Especially standing next to the radiant Marianne, most people’s eyes were drawn to her, and almost no one noticed Allen, despite his intimacy with her.
This “low presence mode” was something Allen had deliberately trained in the past for the sake of survival, intended to turn him into “air” to avoid various death flags.
Unfortunately, the effect… well, it was better than nothing, but the cursed cycles had never spared him once.
“Exactly! Allen is the handsomest!” Marianne immediately echoed him unconditionally.
In a setting like the school, Allen had requested that she downplay their master-servant dynamic and even tone down the “little sister” label.
Marianne was naturally happy to comply.
Allen plotted in his heart that he absolutely had to let Livia see Marianne in this student outfit.
However, after scanning the crowd several times, he still failed to find that familiar figure.
“Where did Livia go?”
As a top freshman who had achieved historically high scores, it was impossible for her, the original protagonist, to miss the entrance exam.
Even though she could enroll based on her status as a Crestbearer and her strength without taking the exam, doing so would likely mean the special treatment and plot events meant for the protagonist would be greatly diminished.
“Tch, you two simply don’t know how to appreciate style.”
Hugo expressed his disdain for the master and servant’s coordinated banter.
He looked around at the young nobles whose eyes carried a look of “clear stupidity” and who were full of expectation for academy life. He couldn’t help but complain:
“I don’t know why, but I feel like the three of us don’t fit in with these guys at all.”
“Because for us, we could actually skip this entire academy stage,” Allen said, speaking from experience.
“Unfortunately, this main story quest cannot be skipped. After all, skipping the plot is equivalent to skipping life.”
The three of them had already experienced many things, so their mindsets naturally couldn’t go back.
For Marianne, this was the start of a brand-new life and an opportunity to change her fate.
For Hugo… it seemed like nothing had changed?
In the original work, he was an idiot in the academy, and he was still an idiot now.
However, at least he could now be considered a “comrade” with revolutionary awareness.
He felt an instinctive trace of disgust toward an academy designed to consolidate the rule of feudal nobles.
“Speaking of which, how are your preparations for the exam?” Allen changed the subject.
“I have no problems,” Marianne answered with great confidence.
She had put a lot of hard work into studying recently.
Allen nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Just take the exam properly and perform as you normally would.”
Although St. Nora Sigil Academy was a noble institution established by the King to weaken the Church’s influence and strengthen central authority, it also recruited a portion of commoner “special admission students.”
These special admission students often became eyes and ears planted by the King in various industries and even within the civil service system to better monitor social dynamics.
Usually, nobles would pay a sum of money to tuck their personal servants or trusted aides into the special admission slots to make it easier to order them around on campus.
Allen had done the same, but what he paid was not money, but rather a portion of his manuscripts for the Crest Encyclopedia, which he had compiled based on the setting guides of the original Starlit Romance.
Crestology was a prominent field of study in this world. After all, a noble’s Sigil was not only a family symbol but also a manifestation of bloodline power.
Crested Nobles, in order to maintain an advantage in their struggles, had always been tight-lipped about the secrets of their Sigils.
The King’s heavy support for Crestology research was largely to find the weaknesses of these Crested Nobles.
Someone like Allen, who possessed near-omniscient knowledge of various Sigils’ abilities, weaknesses, and even power levels, was a rarity in this world.
Although his Crest Encyclopedia was unfinished, its value was immeasurable.
After receiving this “generous gift,” let alone slotting in a maid, Principal Gregoire would probably have seriously considered it even if Allen had wanted to become a Professor of Crestology right after graduation.
This was precisely the fundamental reason why Marianne could so quickly enroll as a special admission student.
Although Allen knew the exam contents like the back of his hand, he didn’t intend to give Marianne and Hugo the answers directly.
Firstly, the exam content might change.
Secondly, scoring too high would easily draw suspicion, especially for a straightforward person like Hugo, who might not even master the basic maneuver of intentionally getting a few questions wrong.
One should know that in past cycles, Allen was a master of grade control.
His results were always stable in the middle of the pack, completely unremarkable.
He actually had the ability to outscore Livia.
While Livia’s academic scores were also top-tier, her overall ranking was bolstered more by her astonishing martial arts bonus.
However, performing too well and standing out brought a hundred harms and not a single benefit to the past Allen. It was simply unnecessary.
Striving for first place in everything was the mindset of a “grinder,” not a survival strategy.
Allen rolled his eyes at Hugo. “What about you?”
“Heh heh,” Hugo chuckled foolishly.
“Heh heh my foot!” Allen said crossly.
“It’s fine,” Hugo waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I’ve checked. The two of us will definitely be assigned to the same class.”
He had already looked into the academy’s unspoken rules.
Allen’s previous scare about the “worst dormitories being comparable to slums” might be true, but the claim that “classes, dorms, and treatment are decided by entrance exam results” was largely exaggerated.
The academy’s regular noble classes were divided into six grades, from A to F, with treatment and status decreasing accordingly.
Theoretically, students were sorted by exam scores, but in reality… those who knew, knew.
In the end, how could a noble academy function without comparing fathers and resources?
The best slots in Class A and Class B had long been reserved for the children of major powerful families.
A son of a Viscount like Allen, who was also “Robe Nobility,” was born a rank lower than the “Sword-Bearing Nobles.”
Being assigned to Class F would be considered lucky.
And Hugo’s family had just arrived in the Capital with no foundation; their only potential backer was the Laval House. Naturally, he could only go to Class F.
Incidentally, in the original work, Livia was also assigned to Class F initially due to her status as an illegitimate daughter, even though her scores were rank one.
The rules of the noble circle were just that realistic and unreasonable.
At the thought of likely having to spend day and night in the same class as Livia again, Allen felt a dull ache in his stomach.
In the last cycle, he had exhausted his efforts to ensure Livia had almost no impression of him.
Later, Livia had relied on her strength to promote to Class A, and things had improved.
“Sigh, the thought of being in the same class as an idiot like you makes me feel like my IQ is being dragged down.” Allen sighed, holding his forehead.
Just then, the academy’s heavy, ornate gates slowly swung open.
A white-haired old man with a kind face, surrounded by a group of well-dressed teachers, appeared before everyone.
He was the Principal, His Excellency Gregoire, who was also a powerful Crestbearer and a court advisor to the King.
“Welcome, young gentlemen and ladies, to St. Nora Sigil Academy!” Gregoire’s voice was loud and majestic.
“Here, you will learn how to become true nobles and how to shoulder the heavy responsibility of protecting and prospering the Lorraine Kingdom!”
He looked around at the young faces below, a trace of satisfaction flitting through his eyes.
“Today’s entrance exam will determine your starting point for the next three years of study at the academy. The subjects include the seven traditional liberal arts: grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music, as well as practical projects such as knightly skills, horsemanship, and archery.”
Hearing this, Hugo visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
For those of commoner origin or the children of Robe Nobility like Allen, academic scores were the top priority; practical projects were often abandoned or merely performed as a formality.
But for the descendants of Sword-Bearing Nobles like Hugo, academic subjects were fine as long as they could manage to write their names; the key lay entirely in their practical performance.
‘Academic subjects? I’ll leave that to fate. I don’t know them anyway. The focus is on the practical prep.’
Hugo had originally held such a mindset.
However, after receiving tutoring from Allen, he could at least manage to answer some of the questions.
Hugo’s willingness to take the exam seriously gave Allen a sense of relief.
Allen didn’t want Hugo to be just a brute. As a member of “Dawn’s Children,” Hugo naturally had to bear the heavy responsibility of toppling the Old World.
Hugo understood the importance of academic study; it was just that his foundation was too poor, so he could only…
Slowly make it up in his future studies.
In this cycle, Allen planned to do slightly better on the liberal arts part so that he could become a familiar face to the teachers later, which would make skipping class easier.
He intended to give up on the practical parts entirely.
A tall tree catches the wind; he had no desire to reveal his strength.
Midst the rustling sound of proctors distributing exam papers, Allen let out a bored yawn.
Within the vast examination hall, the scratching of quill pens across paper echoed.
The noble children were either writing furiously or scratching their heads in frustration. The atmosphere was solemn and tense.
Allen casually scanned the questions on the paper.
The grammar question required an analysis of the rhetorical devices and ideological connotations of a classical poem.
The rhetoric question centered on a discussion of “which is more important: loyalty or wisdom.”
The logic question was a variation of the classic “Liar’s Paradox.”
The arithmetic question involved complex ratio calculations.
The geometry question required proving a theorem regarding polygons inscribed in a circle.
The astronomy question asked for the calculation of planetary positions on a specific date.
The music question involved identifying the mode of a musical score and analyzing its harmonic progression…
As expected, it was the same old “seven arts,” just packaged differently.
To Allen, who had experienced countless cycles and had already thoroughly digested this knowledge, these questions were insultingly simple.
He could even take any one of these points and write a thesis long enough to make a court advisor nod in praise.
However, his goal this time wasn’t to shock the world, but to become a familiar face. The exam was something he would just deal with casually.
He picked up his pen unhurriedly. His handwriting was neat, and his pace was steady.
While solving the logic problem, he even had the spare mental energy to mock the childish paradox in his head.
As for the arithmetic, his mental calculation results were many times faster than the speed of his pen.
The entire process was as fluid as flowing water. Rather than an exam, it was more like a tedious calligraphy practice.
In less than one hour, while most people in the hall were still scratching their heads over the grammar questions on the first page, Allen had already completed every question.
He set down his quill, gently blew on the last drop of ink to dry it, and then stood up from his seat.
Instantly, the eyes of everyone in the room focused on him.
The proctor frowned and walked over, whispering, “Student, there is still plenty of time left. Why not check your work again?”
“No need, teacher.” Allen smiled politely and handed over the paper. “I have some other matters to attend to.”
Under the gazes of surprise, doubt, and even a hint of disdain (likely thinking he had either given up or was being arrogant), Allen became the first person to walk out of the examination hall.
He had no interest in staying inside to waste time with these future “pillars of the kingdom.”