Before long, the first curriculum of the new semester ended, and regular classes began.
Students naturally fell into two groups, those who managed to balance their schedules with major-related courses that suited them, and those who couldn’t get into their preferred classes and reluctantly filled their schedules with general education courses.
Of course, some students secured the right major courses but still suffered due to extreme schedule fragmentation.
However, this wasn’t a particular problem for Rosaria.
The academy offered a vast array of majors. Even for magic alone, there were specialized areas like elemental magic, neutral magic, theoretical studies, and magical artifact crafting, among others.
These diverse fields were subdivided into countless options tailored to each student’s talent.
Beyond magic, there were fields like accounting, art, and business management. While it wasn’t quite as comprehensive as a modern university, the Empire’s efforts to foster various talents were evident in the multitude of options available.
Naturally, combat studies stood proudly as one of the academy’s main majors, and Rosaria’s major fell squarely into that category.
Unlike other subdivided fields of study, combat studies mostly combined all courses into a single track.
First-year students began with basic physical training and swordsmanship.
In the second year, they delved deeper into these skills, progressing toward a state of training that aimed for mastery and pushing the limits of human ability.
Even general education courses in the combat track often dealt with weapon specialization, such as swordsmanship, archery, and dagger techniques, or foundational military science.
These so-called “general” courses were essentially mandatory, making the combat track resemble a vocational program in many ways.
“Great… rolling around at home wasn’t enough. Now I’ll roll around here too…”
Standing in orderly lines with other students on the sunlit, neatly maintained training grounds, Rosaria muttered under her breath with a resigned expression.
A month earlier.
With Ariel’s help, Rosaria had gained a boost in her power, allowing her to finally participate in Gordon’s training sessions. From then on, her grueling training began in earnest.
And she tasted hell.
For an entire month, she endured Gordon’s brutal regime.
A former elite warrior who moved with the precision of an active soldier despite his age, and Dariann, a stamina monster, both pushed Rosaria to the limit. She spent her days rolling in the dirt, completely worn out.
During this time, Rosaria clung to the hope of leaving her estate and starting at the academy as soon as possible, just to escape the torment.
She was convinced that studying, no matter how tedious, would be better than this ordeal.
But reality hit her hard.
Rosaria’s major was business management, and when she attended her first major class, she realized just how out of her depth she was.
She could recall sitting in the lecture hall and watching the professor introduce themselves. Beyond that, however, she remembered nothing of the curriculum or the lecture—her mind simply went blank.
It was far too difficult.
In the original story, Rosaria was a noble, which allowed her to endure classes thanks to her background and prior education from her estate. She was also a native of this world.
However, the current Rosaria was a modern individual who had forgotten much of her 12 years of schooling during her time in the military. Transported to this new world, she was completely lost.
Her prior major knowledge was already hazy, so there was no way she could keep up with the curriculum of this world.
Looking into other curriculums yielded similar results. She wasn’t a genius like Felix or Freya; she was in the same league as Dariann.
Rosaria seriously considered picking a random major and breezing through without much effort. However, her conscience wouldn’t allow it.
So, in the end, Rosaria chose what she could manage,
“getting by with physical effort.”
At least she had learned some combat skills and weapon techniques from Gordon, so she figured she could keep up with those.
As Rosaria, having switched her major to combat studies, stood blankly in her spot with a bored expression, murmurs began to ripple around her.
“Hey, isn’t that the young lady?”
“Yeah… it is, right? That ‘Evergarden’?”
“But why is she here?”
Whisper, whisper.
‘I can hear you, you know… tch.’
They probably thought they were being discreet, but the obvious stares and audible murmuring grated on Rosaria’s nerves.
Still, their reactions were understandable to some extent.
Rosaria was a well-known figure at the academy…infamous, to be precise.
The Evergarden family was a count’s house, ranking just below a marquess, and among the five lower noble titles, it was the highest, excluding dukes, who were practically royalty due to their ties with the imperial family.
However, despite the family’s high status, Rosaria had built a reputation for being a troublemaker.
She led her own group of sycophants, bullied anyone who displeased her, and blatantly disregarded her studies, wreaking havoc wherever she went.
On top of that, her older brother Felix had secured a position as an honorary professor through bribes, further tarnishing the family’s image.
Naturally, Rosaria’s sudden switch to combat studies…a track she had previously looked down on—left many students astonished.
Adding to the confusion, there was a tacit culture at the academy that dismissed combat studies as inferior.
Most nobles in the academy, especially heirs or firstborns, pursued education to prepare for managing their estates or ascending to the imperial elite.
Magic, for instance, was highly respected, as even being capable of learning it was considered a rare talent.
Thus, the non-combat tracks were overwhelmingly dominated by nobles, with 80–90% of students in these programs coming from noble families.
In contrast, the combat studies track was composed of 70–80% commoners.
Many of these students were either aspiring to become exceptional knights or mercenaries to change their fortunes, or they were lesser nobles, often third or fourth sons without the right of succession, seeking to secure their futures.
Graduating from the combat studies track at the academy meant starting at a silver rank
in the mercenary guild, a credential that was highly regarded. Some even managed to become knights for higher-ranking nobles if luck was on their side.
As a result, the two groups rarely got along. Non-combat students dismissed combat students as lowly brutes, while combat students derided non-combat students as arrogant snobs.
Given this context, it was no surprise that Rosaria, a notorious noblewoman from the Evergarden family, suddenly joining the combat track caused quite a stir.
“Alright, is everyone here?”
Just as the whispers among the students began to grow louder, a man approached, his heavy footsteps thudding against the dirt ground.
He scanned the group of students before addressing them.
“Welcome, everyone. I am Gutton, and I’ll be teaching the basics of weaponry this semester.”
This was none other than Professor Gutton, whom Rosaria had first met during her initial homeroom session at the academy. As her assigned professor, he would also be leading this course.
“Now, while I’m sure many of you have already reviewed the curriculum, let me summarize.
In this class, you’ll explore different weapons, find the ones that suit you best or pique your interest, improve your proficiency, and engage in actual sparring sessions to refine your skills.”
“Even so, don’t get too nervous. The emergency team stationed at this academy is top-notch. I mean, even if your arm gets blown clean off, as long as treatment is quick, they can reattach it. Haha!!”
“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like a joke at all.”
Standing before the students, he had swapped the stiff, formal outfit he wore during homeroom for a sleeveless shirt better suited for movement.
He cracked a boisterous joke and let out a hearty laugh, but none of the students could bring themselves to laugh along.
“Well then, before we get into the main lesson, are there any questions?”
With a casual tone, he asked if anyone had questions before the lesson began.
At that moment—
“Professor, I have a question.”
A student sitting in the very front row raised his hand high and spoke up.
His tanned skin, likely the result of frequent exposure to the sun, combined with his dark brown hair, a bandage-like strip on his nose, and arms wrapped in layers of bandages, made it clear to anyone, This kid’s a fighter.
“Alright… your name?”
“Retin, sir.”
“Okay, Retin. Go ahead.”
“It is truly an indescribable honor for me to attend your class, Professor. You are my very goal in life, having grown up hearing about your heroic exploits from my father.”
“…Hmph. Flattery’s not going to get you anything, kid. Get to the point.”
Though Retin’s respectful admiration annoyed the professor enough to make him dig his finger in his ear, the corner of his lips betrayed him by twitching upward.
“However, I must say there’s someone here who doesn’t belong in this glorious class of yours.”
“…Oh? Someone who doesn’t belong, you say? And who might that be?”
“It’s… that person right there.”
Retin turned his body and extended his finger toward someone.
“…Huh?”
All eyes followed the direction of his finger, landing squarely on…Rosaria.
Caught off guard by the sudden attention, Rosaria, who had been absentmindedly scraping her shoe against the floor with her hands clasped behind her back, blinked with a blank expression.
“Despite not being part of the combat division, she’s here in this gritty space, where she clearly doesn’t belong. Isn’t this some kind of mistake?
After all, she’s the cherished young lady of that oh-so-great count’s family that always looks down on us combat types.”
“That’s true. What’s the meaning of this?”
“She used to mock us so freely, and now suddenly shows up here?”
“She’s just in the way.”
“Yeah, why is she here?”
Other students nodded in agreement, throwing cold and judgmental glances at Rosaria after Retin’s statement.
“…What’s going on here? Are you seriously complaining to me because you don’t like one of your classmates?”
Gulp—
The boldness of Retin’s actions caused the professor’s usually cheerful demeanor to vanish. He fixed Retin with a sharp, piercing gaze.
“And just who do you think you are to decide who should or shouldn’t be in my class? What are you, some kind of authority? Are you the professor here? Huh?”
‘His eyes… they’re so intense!’
‘What a presence…! Just standing under his gaze makes it impossible to even think about speaking!’
The students felt a fierce determination, as if facing a wild beast, under the sharp gaze, and instinctively kept their mouths shut.
The gap between the still-green students and Gatton, who had crossed life-and-death situations hundreds of times to reach a certain pinnacle, was truly staggering.
“…I was just stating the facts.”
Despite the cold sweat running down his forehead, Retin stood his ground without retracting his words.
“Lady Rosaria, who normally ridicules and dismisses our combat division, has the audacity to brazenly show her face here, doesn’t she?
And let’s be honest—someone like her, who doesn’t suit battles in the slightest, being here… does that really contribute to our lessons?”
“…He’s right.”
“I agree with Retin’s opinion.”
“You… You little brats…!?”
As Retin’s courage seemed to inspire the other students, their voices grew louder, leaving Gatton visibly flustered, as though he hadn’t anticipated such a scene.
“Rosaria, leave!”
“Yeah, get out of here!”
“Where’s that fancy servant you usually drag around?!”
“Why not call your oh-so-famous brother, the honorary professor?!”
The students’ outcry wasn’t just dissatisfaction anymore—it had devolved into outright, blatant criticism. The uproar swelled louder and louder.
“Hah.”
Rosaria, who had remained silent until now, let out a hollow laugh, as though their behavior was absurd and beneath her notice.
“Hey, you. Over there.”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Yeah, you little acorn-head.”
“Ac…what?!”
Pointing her finger at him just as he had done earlier, Rosaria called Retin “acorn,” and a vein visibly bulged on his forehead.
“So, what you’re saying is, you think I’m fucking pathetic, right? Hmm?”
Step. Step.
“…?!”
As she began walking toward the boy she had just called “acorn,” Rosaria spat out a vulgar curse—something unbecoming of a noble lady—and left Retin momentarily stunned.
“If I piss you off that much, why don’t you just say so instead of pulling cowardly stunts to rile people up? Pathetic little jerk.”
“You’re seriously crossing the line, Lady Rosaria. Can’t you see the situation you’re in right now? Do you even have anyone on your side here?”
Despite his flustered state, Retin met her gaze with anger and managed to keep his composure. His words rang true—there was not a single person in the room who stood with Rosaria.
All the students had rallied behind Retin, glaring at her with hostility.
“I hear even those loyal followers of yours have abandoned you, and your family’s estate is crumbling, isn’t it?
So maybe it’s time to cut it out. What do you say, Countess?”
Buoyed by the crowd’s support, Retin’s tone grew more relaxed as a sly smirk spread across his face.
“……”
Rosaria, who had been silently staring at him, finally closed her mouth and stayed quiet for a moment—
“I tried to keep to myself, really. But you? You’ve crossed the line.”
“Follow me to the training grounds, you bastard.”
With that, Rosaria held up a clenched fist and yelled at him.