The children of Dawn would learn how to manage a school here, and eventually, they would apply those lessons to governing a nation.
The first class at Saint Nora Academy would not take place in a classroom, but in the Student Council elections that were destined to be gloriously chaotic and spectacular.
“As for clubs…” Allen turned to Livia. “Do you think a ‘Sword Arts Club’ personally overseen by you would draw those combative sword-bearing nobles like moths to a flame? And a ‘Political Philosophy Reading Club’ headed by me—would it attract those robe nobles eager to make their mark in officialdom?”
Livia’s perception of Allen was being rewritten time and time again.
She had always been a warrior, but Allen seemed to know something about everything—astronomy, geography, every trade and every profession.
Livia yearned to keep pace with Allen, so she examined each of his reforms from a politician’s perspective, searching for hidden implications.
The clubs were, without question, part of Allen’s grand design.
A subtle smile curved Livia’s lips.
She understood now. The clubs were Allen’s instruments for dividing different classes and precisely cultivating talent loyal to his own camp.
He would use the Student Council to seize firm control of the entire student body’s power.
As each new concept was introduced, Gregoire’s enthusiasm was thoroughly ignited, and the discussion among the three grew ever more spirited.
From how to use collective honor to promote class integration, to how to strengthen students’ independence through practical assessments, to how to establish management rules for the Student Council and clubs.
A brand new, vibrant, and dynamic blueprint for the academy—born from the collision of their ideas—gradually transformed from a vague notion into something clear and concrete, almost tangible.
Gregoire gazed at the two young people before him with deep satisfaction, his heart brimming with emotion.
They saw more than he did, and saw further.
He had thought himself the helmsman walking at the forefront of the times.
Now he realized he was merely the one who had held the final gate of the harbor open for the great ship about to set sail.
“Heroes have always emerged from youth,” indeed. The old saying never lied.
“Sir Allen,” Gregoire stroked his beard, speaking cheerfully, “regarding this Student Council you speak of—the first president should be none other than yourself! As the top scorer in the entrance examination and the architect of this entire reform plan, you deserve it wholeheartedly!”
“No, no, absolutely not!” Allen shook his head like a rattle-drum, his face a mask of resistance.
“Please find someone else more qualified. I’m not being modest—I simply have too much on my plate already to bother with students’ trivial squabbles.”
He shifted the topic with practiced ease, directly pushing Livia forward.
“I think Livia would be perfect! First, with her bearing, everyone can tell she’d keep things under control. Second, her strength speaks for itself—any fool who dares cause trouble would find one punch from her more effective than a hundred lectures. Efficient! Worry-free!”
Livia shot him a glance and replied with a smile: “But I didn’t participate in the entrance examination. Wouldn’t it be difficult for me to command respect?”
“What’s so hard about that?” Allen said with complete confidence. “With a face like yours, just stand on that stage—who would dare not vote for you? Who wouldn’t want to see a beautiful young lady president watching over them every day to ensure they study hard?”
“I have no interest in being a decorative figurehead.” Livia’s gaze was clear, as if she had seen through everything already.
“And besides… no matter how you twist and turn it, in the end you’ll be the one pulling the strings of the Student Council anyway. Why add unnecessary steps?”
This man was simply lazy, trying to foist all the troublesome work onto her.
Livia had already mentally accepted that the two of them would both be at the core of the Student Council in the future, completely forgetting that moments ago they had been discussing how the Council would be determined by elections, not appointments.
“Speaking of which, Miss Livia,” Gregoire asked with concern, “your absence from the entrance examination—is there some difficulty behind it?”
“Oh, Livia was busy preparing for her duel with me at the time—off eliminating evil and dispensing justice.” Allen cut in first, explaining in a teasing tone. “After all, compared to empty titles, she prefers proving herself through actions.”
Livia shot Allen a subtle glare from the corner of her eye.
But his words made her ears burn inexplicably.
The chaotic memories from before the duel broke through her defenses uncontrollably.
Being eroded by the whispers of the Evil God, losing her senses, yet feeling strange and powerful desires toward Allen surging within her… that burning heat that nearly consumed her reason, that impulse to be possessed and destroyed by him…
Even now, recalling it made her cheeks flush.
That flutter in her heart… was it truly just the work of the Evil God?
“I see.”
Gregoire nodded in sudden understanding, then, as if remembering something, turned and retrieved a prepared letter from the drawer of his heavy desk, solemnly handing it to Livia.
“An old man’s memory wanders when he gets to talking. Miss Livia, this letter was entrusted to me by His Majesty to deliver to you personally.”
Livia pushed down the strange feeling in her chest and took the letter with curiosity.
The envelope’s seal bore King Louis XI’s distinctive personal stamp—an iris entwined with a crown, majestic and exquisite.
She broke the seal and unfolded the tough parchment within.
What met her eyes was a royal appointment written in solemn, dignified language.
“Hereby appoints Livia von Stern as Royal Special Investigator, effective immediately.”
Royal Special Investigator?
Livia continued reading, her heart growing increasingly shaken.
This position granted her the authority to directly arrest and interrogate any suspect, including dukes of the highest rank in the Kingdom.
No cumbersome judicial procedures required—accountable to the King alone.
What made her breath catch was the authority she was granted to convene the “Fire Tribunal.”
An ancient court reserved solely for crimes of heresy and treason, whose judgments were swift, severe, and without appeal.
This was no longer merely an investigator or a judge.
From this moment onward, she was the judgment and death that the King walked upon the earth.
This was a staggering power that would make the entire sword-bearing nobility tremble!
At the end of the letter, the King’s stern tone suddenly shifted, taking on the familiarity and teasing of an elder toward a younger generation.
“My dear hero, are you getting along well with your fiancé? If you decide to marry, I would be honored to personally officiate the ceremony. It would be my pleasure.”
Livia’s already warm cheeks turned scorching hot, nearly steaming.
She instinctively darted a quick glance at Allen, her heart pounding traitorously.
At the very end of the letter, there was one final line written solely for Allen, in hasty, playful script.
“My dear ‘God’s Messenger,’ are you satisfied with this blade of mine?”
These words drained the blush from Livia’s face in an instant, replaced by a pallor mixed with shock and understanding.
Allen… is the God’s Messenger?
She snapped her head up, those sapphire eyes fixed intently on Allen.
In that instant, every confusion, every puzzle clicked into place.
His knowledge and cunning far beyond his years, the terrifying power he displayed in the duel that crushed her own evil-god-blessed strength, those eyes that seemed to see through everything…
So that was it.
So that was how it was.
Allen stared at the King’s playful handwriting, his temples throbbing.
That old fox!
Granting Livia supreme authority, turning her into the sharpest blade against the sword-bearing nobility—this was undoubtedly a gesture of goodwill toward him and House Laval, a safeguard for his reforms.
But to expose his identity as the “God’s Messenger” so casually, right before Livia’s eyes, in such a manner…
What exactly was he trying to achieve?
The King knew perfectly well that even if he said nothing, someone as perceptive as Livia would eventually piece together the truth. But having the King himself reveal it changed everything.
A justice-obsessed zealot whose faith had just been shattered by the deception of the Evil God, left with a hollow void where her beliefs once stood—where would she turn to fill that emptiness?
And sure enough.
After a brief moment of stunned disorientation, Livia’s confusion rapidly gave way to a new kind of light in her eyes. In a voice bordering on ethereal, she whispered:
“Allen… it is indeed the Lord who guided us, through hardships and perils, across endless nightmares, to ultimately weave the threads of our fates together.”
“Those pains, those sorrows… they are the Lord’s trials and punishments for one who has committed sins like me…”
Seeing Livia immediately slip into her self-insertion mode, her gaze even carrying a hint of fanatical devotion, Allen felt a splitting headache coming on.
What the hell is this!
I treated you as a comrade, but you want to worship me as a god?
Livia had been the proud Ice Knight—and now her demeanor was utterly submissive, even somewhat… soft.
And it was he who had personally destroyed Livia’s pride, who had made her understand that she had merely been a puppet of the Evil God.
Now, that responsibility seemed to be rebounding on him in a way he never anticipated.
“Ahem.”
Gregoire very tactfully interrupted the strange atmosphere between the two.
“If the two of you wouldn’t mind, you might take a stroll around the campus and clear your heads. There will be plenty of opportunities to discuss everything else later.”
As the headmaster who understood the immense burdens these two children carried, Gregoire concluded in a kind tone:
“In my eyes, you are not heroes, nor are you ‘God’s Messengers.’ You are simply my students—children who still need the care of adults.”
“Sir Allen, the greatest insight you gave me today is this: the world belongs to us now, but it will surely belong to you in the future. This academy, under your reform plan, will become a home for all who study here. I firmly believe that.”