The dazzling lights, the mountain-like piles of rare delicacies, and luxurious alcohols surrounding them.
And the people filling the banquet hall were all dressed in extravagant clothing, so much so that anyone could tell they were no ordinary folk.
They wore all sorts of adornments, and were gathered in groups, quietly engaging in conversation with those they knew.
No matter how many times I look, this is a place far removed from my tastes.
However, can one really live a life doing only what they want? In the end, to achieve a greater purpose, there are times when you have to lick the enemy’s toes.
Now, this is one of those moments.
“Anis, wait here for a moment.”
“Yes, Captain.”
I left my coat with Anis and, with a sense of resolve, walked boldly to the center of the banquet hall.
***
“Ah, my. A distinguished guest has arrived. I apologize for the late greeting, Lord Rudius. Or should I say, the esteemed protector of the academy, Headmaster Rudius?”
As expected, the bait was taken.
The man who staggered toward me, with lips so shiny they looked oiled and a protruding belly that he couldn’t even hide, was approaching me like a clumsy villain in some fantasy drama, ready to be sliced in half by the protagonist.
I was about to furrow my brow but quickly adjusted my expression.
Although I’m not closely acquainted with many of the nobles from other families, if I didn’t know this man’s name, I’d be a spy.
Gernik Hachen.
He was one of the most famous figures among the three dukes and four marquises, collectively known as the Seven Materials of the Empire.
He was renowned for his ability to amass wealth and resources like no one else.
Some even call him the true alchemist of this era.
From his face, he looked like a third-rate villain, but I had heard of his notorious reputation.
“I didn’t know Marquis Hachen had arrived. I saw you about five years ago at the imperial palace.”
“That’s right. I remember you were in the Special Forces back then. Compared to that time, you seem to have become quite amiable.”
His first reply was quite gentle, but the way he subtly switched from formal speech to a more casual tone bothered me.
Still, given his age and social standing, he was clearly above me, so I let it slide.
After all, I needed to sway this man, and it wasn’t the right time to raise my voice.
“A person changes over time, don’t they?”
“Change, you say? That’s a good way of putting it. But Lord Rudius, as the saying goes, a person who changes too quickly is doomed to die. Just like policies or the laws of the world, rapid changes lead to downfall. Don’t you agree?”
Just as I expected.
It seems like he’s already getting to the point.
What a hasty person.
I knew he would be trying to criticize the reform proposal I had recently presented to the emperor.
That proposal was to open the academy’s education to commoners.
In most of the common academy novels I’ve read, commoners and nobles usually receive education together, and conflicts arising from this difference in status often become a central plotline.
Outwardly, they claim that students at the academy are all treated equally, regardless of status, but in reality, professors frequently discriminate between nobles and commoners.
Moreover, in some cases, when the protagonist is a commoner, he fight against the unfairness of the academy using their abilities, eventually beating the noble students and rising to the top.
However, the current Trivia Academy was strictly for nobles only.
So, when I suddenly proposed admitting commoners, it was no surprise that other nobles, hearing this from the emperor, would immediately protest.
Anyone who expected a positive response from them was an idiot.
Even I, who proposed it, didn’t expect the nobles to suddenly rise and support me by saying, “Yes, commoners should have equal rights to education!”
To them, the difference in treatment between nobles and commoners was as natural as the sun rising in the east.
“I assume you’re talking about the issue I brought up with His Majesty, regarding etiquette?”
“Ah, you’re quick to get to the point. That’s good. Since the opportunity has presented itself, may I ask why you’ve proposed it?”
Not only was Gernik staring at me intently, but the sharp gazes of the others in the room were also stabbing into my back.
It seemed like Gernik, being the most senior and socially powerful person present, was trying to take the lead in suppressing me with his words.
However, since I had already anticipated this situation, I welcomed it.
The fact that he took the lead meant that if I could persuade him, I wouldn’t need to put as much effort into convincing the other nobles.
“It’s a simple matter. For the greater good, I believe it’s the right path, even if it brings criticism in the short term.”
“Ah, let me hear what you have to say.”
Thankfully, he wasn’t intending to shut his ears to my words.
As Gernik nodded, I opened my mouth.
At this point, I was confident in my ability to convince him.
“Do you happen to know that the academy is currently operating under an unjust system, Marquis?”
“Are you referring to the discriminatory treatment based on ability?”
“That’s right.”
Indeed.
The Trivia Academy, like those I had seen in various web novels, primarily discriminates against students based on their abilities.
To put it bluntly, the top students are provided with comfortable dorms, abundant food, and numerous privileges.
Meanwhile, the lower-ranked students are treated so poorly that there are jokes about them living in shack-like villages.
“…Well, I guess that’s to be expected. My own son suffered greatly there.”
Gernik, avoiding my gaze, coughed awkwardly and nodded.
I never would have expected his son to be a student at the Trivia Academy.
Given the way he talked about his suffering, it seemed like his abilities weren’t remarkable.
Regardless, this made the conversation even easier.
I deliberately raised my voice, clenched my fists tightly, and growled like an enraged animal.
“Isn’t it laughable? We, the nobles, are supposed to govern and place commoners beneath us. Yet, at the academy, we nobles are tearing each other apart, excluding each other simply because of small differences in ability. It’s a ridiculous farce, don’t you think?”
“…Lord Rudius, are you suggesting?”
At last, Gernik seemed to realize what I was trying to say.
His eyes widened as he stared at me, his expression one of disbelief, as if thinking, “I’m crazy, but is this even possible?”
If his thoughts were going the way I wanted, then naturally, that’s what he’d be thinking.
I was about to say something that even a third-rate villain might say.
Even though I didn’t mean a word of it, I was about to speak it for the sake of persuading him.
“Yes. Even if commoners are allowed to enter the academy, how can they possibly reach the standards of the already established academy, with its elevated status and professors’ expectations? They’ll inevitably be placed at the very bottom.”
“That’s true.”
“And as for the nobles who will enter later, they’ll just have to go about their school life, looking down at those lower-ranked students. There will be no need for needless fighting or conflicts among the noble students, and there will be no excessive competition to stir up.”
Like a stage actor, I dramatically spread my arms wide as I spoke.
At that moment, my gaze met Anis’s, who stood far behind Gernick.
Since she already knew my plan, she looked at me with a sympathetic gaze, as if to say, “You must be struggling with something that doesn’t suit your nature.” Then, she shook her head.
At least someone recognizes my efforts.
That makes me feel a little better, though it’s still a bit embarrassing.
***
“So, you’re trying to kill two birds with one stone. On the surface, you pretend to grant commoners the same educational rights as nobles to gain public favor, while in reality, you use them as a cautionary example to reinforce the pride of noble-born students?”
“Exactly.”
Perhaps finding my words reasonable, Gernick, who had been stroking his chin in thought, began nodding.
When I clapped my hands on my knees and exaggeratedly agreed with him, a faint smile formed on his lips.
It didn’t seem like he smiled because he liked my proposal.
Rather, it felt like he was acknowledging me just a little, as if saying, “You’re not so bad after all.”
***
“Hah… I may have misjudged you.”
“Misjudged? What do you mean by that?”
“When I heard that Lord Nazbal adopted you despite your commoner origins, I assumed you still harbored the mindset of your former status. I also assumed that this reform plan stemmed from that sentiment.”
Lord Nazbal—my adoptive father—was the current head of House Rudius.
In other words, Gernick had assumed that, because I was originally a commoner, I would naturally advocate for reforms favoring them.
Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
Not that I created this reform plan because of my background, though.
I simply wanted to fulfill my teacher’s one and only wish from his youth.
Still, that teacher of mine was a commoner too, and it was likely because of his origins that he had such a wish.
So, Gernick’s assumption wasn’t entirely incorrect.
But for now, I had to firmly deny it.
“Your assumption isn’t unreasonable. However, I now believe that noble blood runs through my veins.”
‘Yeah, right. If anything, all humans spill red blood when they die.’
If someone were actually bleeding blue, they wouldn’t be a noble—they’d be some kind of demon.
Even Vorgan, that lunatic, summoned underlings that bled black, not blue.
So, as far as I was concerned, no such thing as blue blood existed.
However, to Gernick, my ridiculous statement must have sounded quite pleasing.
“That’s right! Nobles are those who bleed blue, after all! It seems Lord Nazbal has done a fine job instilling in you the pride of nobility!”
Oh? Now I’m “you” instead of “you, sir”.
Well, I suppose that means he feels more familiar with me now.
I can take that as a positive sign.
“You, my friend, are a true noble of this era, one who genuinely cares for his fellow aristocrats! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before!”
Smack, smack.
As if we were old friends, Gernick suddenly clapped me on the back.
Watching his overly friendly display made my stomach churn, as if I’d eaten a lump of butter.
Instinctively, my eyes darted toward the champagne on the table.
“Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll take care of persuading them myself. Once they understand your grand vision, they’ll surely agree.”
“I appreciate your consideration, Lord Hasen.”
Well, at least all this trouble helped me get rid of some annoying tasks.
I should be grateful for that.
***
“…But now that I think about it, isn’t the original protagonist also a commoner?”
“No way this situation is going to lead to him enrolling in our academy, right?”
“Nah, that’s impossible. He’s from the Kingdom of Hildek, after all. Unlike us, they’ve always accepted commoners into their academies.”
‘Why would he go through the hassle of crossing the sea just to come here?’
***
At that same moment.
A girl who had been secretly eavesdropping on their conversation at the banquet lightly tossed her sky-blue hair.
Her name was Lize Krantz.
As the fourth princess of the Kingdom of Hildek, she had come along with her mother, who was visiting a friend.
Since she knew no one here, she had been wandering around—until she happened to overhear an interesting conversation.
‘What a fascinating excuse.’
While others listening to Abel might genuinely believe that he was reforming the academy for the sake of noble students, Lize could tell that her true intentions were the exact opposite.
After all, when Eldrid Academy in her own country first opened its doors to commoners, her father had used the same excuse as the previous King Krantz.
She had heard about it from him firsthand.
It was a completely unconvincing story.
If Abel truly wanted to run the academy for nobles, he would have maintained the current policies and sought another method to appease the commoners— perhaps by softening the merit-based discrimination system instead.
Yet, the fact that he specifically designed a plan to admit commoners meant one thing—he must have valued their inclusion.
That was undeniable.
Just like the former King Krantz.
In truth, Abel must be a noble who truly cares for and embraces commoners.
And that was exactly the lesson her father, Theodric, always preached.
‘What a liar.’
Lize had never imagined that such a word could sound so warm.
At the same time, she found herself growing more and more curious about the man stumbling around over there.
A man who walked a path strikingly similar to the greatest holy king in Hildek’s history.
A man who didn’t seem much older than her.
‘If my theory is correct, then what kind of academy would a man like that create?’
Lost in thought, Lize quietly approached her mother, who was engaged in conversation with others.
“Mother.”
“Hm? What is it, Lize? You must be bored, not knowing anyone here.”
“No, it’s not that….”
Shaking her head slightly to dismiss her mother’s assumption, Lize smiled gently before speaking.
“May I apply for admission to Trivia Academy?”
“Trivia Academy? Why?”
“You mentioned planning to send my sister there. I thought it would be better if she didn’t go alone.”
“If that’s the case, I don’t mind… but are you sure? You love cooking, and Eldrid Academy would be better for that.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Had Abel overheard this conversation, he would have been furious, demanding she cancel immediately.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
And so, Lize’s request was accepted.
Meanwhile, completely unaware that he had just roped in a princess as a new student, Abel slumped into his chair, letting out a deep sigh.
Lize, watching him, smiled once again.