"Why are there so many new arrivals this time?"
In the dormitory of the New East Technical Academy, Sabo leaned against the window, observing Abram and over twenty other children outside, his tone filled with curiosity.
Sabo had been at the academy for some time now. The institution had only recently been established, and since students came from all over the East Blue, their backgrounds varied widely. As a result, grade levels were not strictly determined by age but rather by prior educational experience.
Although Sabo was only ten years old, his parents had always envisioned him marrying into royalty. They had never relaxed their strict educational standards, providing him with a solid foundation. Even after running away from home, Sabo hadn't slacked off in his studies. Determined to write books about his future adventures at sea, he constantly sought ways to expand his knowledge.
Thanks to his strong foundation, Sabo had tested into the higher grades. In contrast, many older students were still stuck in the lower grades.
Sabo's roommate, a twelve-year-old boy named Ilya Reid, closed his book and joined him at the window. Ilya was the son of a doctor, a profession that commanded respect and high income in this world. Like Sabo, his background and education had placed him in the higher grades despite his young age.
Ilya squinted as he scanned the ill-fitting uniforms worn by Abram and the other children below. "They're probably from the slums," he remarked.
Then, turning back to the dormitory's third occupant, he asked, "Holt, you're from the slums too, aren't you? Do you know any of them?"
Hughes Holt, the eldest in the dorm at fifteen years old and a native of Kalmar City's slums, walked over with a sullen expression. He glanced out the window briefly before replying curtly, "No."
Holt then shot Ilya a cold look and added, "Use your brain. I don't know every single person from the slums, just like you don't know every single doctor."
Though they shared a dormitory, Ilya and Holt had little in common. Their experiences were worlds apart. Before entering the academy, Ilya had enjoyed a privileged upbringing with access to quality education, while Holt had been running errands for gangs in the slums to make ends meet.
In the broader context of this world, if not for William, it would have been nearly impossible for someone like Ilya to share a classroom, let alone a dorm room, with someone like Holt.
Unsurprisingly, their relationship was far from harmonious.
Sabo, though born a noble, had spent years living in harsh conditions similar to those of the slums in Kalmar City. His experiences allowed him to get along with both Ilya and Holt. Sensing the rising tension between his roommates, Sabo quickly laughed and changed the subject. "Our dorm still has one empty spot. Do you think one of them might become our new roommate?"
The accommodations at William's academy were decent—four students per room, with enough space for everyone. Currently, their dormitory had one vacant bed, which was why Sabo raised the question.
"How many kids from poor families have had a proper education?" Holt replied coldly. "Most of them will start in the lower grades. Even if someone's smart enough to skip ahead, it'll take months at least."
Sabo sighed. Holt, usually withdrawn and taciturn, unexpectedly cracked a rare smile. "I know what you're worried about, but this is Lord William's school. No one would dare cause trouble here."
"Even someone like Michi Malonko wouldn't dare?" Ilya asked nervously. "I looked him up in a book. The Bearpaw Tribe has a tradition of cannibalism! I don't want him as a roommate. What if he gets hungry in the middle of the night and decides to cook me for a midnight snack?"
Sabo burst out laughing. His naturally optimistic personality, combined with Ilya's exaggerated fears, quickly dispelled any lingering concerns. "Michi Malonko has been in the lower grades for months now. Has he ever eaten anyone?"
"You can't be sure," Ilya muttered, still uneasy. "Maybe he just hasn't found anyone tasty enough yet."
"You're so self-absorbed. Do you really think you'd taste good?"
"Who knows? I haven't tried myself."
The Michi Malonko they were discussing, along with his Bearpaw Tribe, had been a significant challenge for William during his immigration initiatives in the East Blue. The tribe, originally from a remote island, had a history of hostility toward outsiders. When they began causing trouble for William's pioneering teams, he responded by sending reinforcements to subdue them. The tribe's cultural leaders, who served as spiritual symbols, were executed under William's orders, while the rest of the tribe submitted to his rule.
Michi Malonko, a child of the Bearpaw Tribe, had grown up in the jungle. His robust physique caught the attention of Selkirk, who was overseeing the pioneering efforts. Selkirk recommended Michi for enrollment at the academy.
William's academy emphasized not only theoretical knowledge but also the development of physical and combat skills. The institution's purpose included training talent for William's armed forces. Swordsmanship and physical training were mandatory for all students. Despite his unconventional background and "one-sided" skillset, Michi's exceptional physical abilities had earned him enough points to advance to the higher grades.
However, due to his upbringing, Michi's habits and behavior often clashed with those of other students, even those from impoverished backgrounds. His reputation as a troublemaker had reached Sabo and his roommates, who preferred to keep their distance.
...
After finishing his work with the laborers, William made his way to the royal palace. His path was unimpeded as he approached the area where King Norton I and his family resided.
However, as he passed through a garden, William heard the sounds of a commotion. Frowning, he changed direction and headed toward the noise, followed closely by the young adjutants from his corps.
Upon entering the garden, William saw a group of people gathered. The Queen of Navia, adorned with a jeweled crown and dressed in regal attire, was seated on a chair. Her eight-year-old son, the young prince, was loudly berating a maid.
The "guards" present were all loyal to William. The moment they saw him, they stepped aside without waiting for orders from the queen or the prince.
As soon as William entered, the previously relaxed queen straightened up, her expression tense. The prince, who had been shouting moments earlier, fell silent. The mere presence of the emotionless William created an atmosphere far more oppressive than the prince's earlier reprimands.
"What's going on here?" William asked calmly.
"I... I accidentally knocked over a fruit platter," the maid stammered, wiping away tears.
The prince, however, angrily retorted, "She did it on purpose! This insolent servant disrespects the royal family and dares to insult us!"
William frowned. The royal family's loss of power and influence had clearly made them hypersensitive, seeing slights and insults everywhere.
He waved a hand dismissively at the maid. "There's nothing more to see here. You may go."
The maid bowed gratefully to William and prepared to leave.
But the eight-year-old prince, feeling ignored, turned red with anger. Summoning a courage that seemed to come from nowhere, he shrieked, "Stop! Who said you could leave?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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