The Founding Day Festival, held only once a year.
Even though about a week remained, regular ferries between the Academy and the two continents had drastically increased.
Hundreds of people began pouring into the Academy every day, and the streets were thick with a festive atmosphere.
Soon, hundreds would become thousands, and that crowd meant nothing but money.
The Founding Day Festival was not only a joyful time that excited the entire Empire but also a major windfall for Pellenberg.
"Move quickly!"
"There mustn't be any setbacks in the festival!"
Merchandise was brought in, open spaces were transformed into festival streets, and temporary buildings were raised.
Preparations for the festival were carried out under the leadership of Pellenberg, who had officially won the Academy's contract.
Other merchant guilds had a share, but it was nothing compared to what Pellenberg had secured.
Still, I didn't think they'd hand over this much to the Golden Turtle Company.
Behind the scenes, the Chancellor's influence had played a part.
This was the "reward" that had been promised separately.
Contracts to oversee much of the festival's preparations and the promise of massive profits.
It was clear: We'll give you breadcrumbs, so make sure you keep the secret about the demon airtight.
Well, since I took the money, I'd better earn it.
Payment for information, but still—business was business.
Fernan decided to stop worrying about the matter of Andromalius and simply focus on his own affairs.
"The permits will go through anyway…"
Private betting houses for wagering on jousting matches and magic duels.
It was a cash cow that would line Fernan's pockets handsomely during the festival.
"Hyde."
"Yes."
"Has the Academy replied yet?"
"I brought it with me just now."
Fernan received the letter. It wasn't much.
[Student Fernan.
So you're planning to do it again this year. Normally, it wouldn't be possible, but as the one who saved countless lives, your contributions are far too great. As Chancellor, I cannot refuse you one or two favors.
Ah, since it's the festival, why not make it official this time? How about letting the Golden Turtle run a licensed betting house?]
"…They want me to manage the official betting house?"
Naturally, he liked the idea.
[But if visitors' excessive wailing fills the Academy, the festival won't feel much like a festival anymore.
I trust you'll handle it well.]
He's really greedy for money, huh.
Still, he'd killed a demon and saved the world, so they'd let him.
Don't set up another betting house—just manage the one that's there. But if you exploit people too much and problems arise, the responsibility falls on you.
If it had ended there, it would've been delightful.
[P.S. – Since this is now an officially licensed business, the tax rate is 20%.]
"…So generous, but he won't give up the money, huh?"
Well, Mages and money were inseparable. The "aloof" Mages who pretended to be above wealth had long since gone extinct or died off.
"They want us to pay tax?"
"Yeah."
"How much?"
"20%."
"The Chancellor has shown great generosity. To impose only that much tax, when all we're doing is putting a fork on a table already set…"
Not an unfair statement.
"Well, better than last year."
"Comparing it to last year is a bit…"
Last year, Fernan had opened an unlicensed betting house without the Academy's approval. He was caught and forced to pay back half his earnings as a fine.
"Well, anyway, since I now have the official rights to manage and operate the betting house, I might as well scale things up a bit."
Feeling inspired, Fernan pulled out blank sheets of paper.
"They said to keep it reasonable, so I'll set a limit on how much one person can bet… hmm, should I block people from using others to get around it? No, I can just say I didn't know. Why cut off a chance to earn more?"
Since it had to run on volume sales, he needed as many people as possible to participate.
"What's the best way…? Advertising like crazy, for starters…"
Offering prizes to those who guessed the most correctly wouldn't be bad.
Or arranging meet-and-greet sessions with the winners in advance.
Most of the bettors would be nobles anyway—fanatics for such connections.
As the papers quickly filled with ideas, Hyde quietly slipped out of the office.
"..."
Aria rested her chin in her hand, glancing around the lecture hall.
The professor giving the lecture. The students listening intently.
At the very back, where Aria sat, no one sat beside her.
Because she had no friends.
To be precise—within the Magic Department.
I expected this, but the factions are already formed. It's awkward to wedge myself in now.
Her efforts to befriend the bloodlines of the Elector Counts had borne fruit: she'd gotten close with Aint Armian and Fernan Pellenberg.
She'd even gained Berian Kalburden as a bonus. He wasn't from an Elector family, but the Kalburden House was undeniably powerful.
No, maybe it's too soon to say I'm close with Senior Fernan.
She could approach him easily, and they'd even hunted demons together, but she still felt some invisible wall between them.
That could be resolved in time. The real problem was that all of them were in the Knight Department.
Fernan was in the Magic Department, but he was a second-year.
Why isn't there an Elector family among the first-year Magic students?
It wasn't that there weren't any. There was Jace Vines—the so-called Saint of the Church. But honestly, she was reluctant to approach him.
It was like… racial self-loathing.
That bastard is definitely hiding something.
Behind the mask of the endlessly benevolent "Saint," something lurked. Her instincts told her so.
Still, I can't stay a loner in the Magic Department forever. I'll have to push my way in somehow.
And shamelessness was her specialty.
Daniel Alfrsen and Verdi Inua will do nicely.
She didn't need those of low rank. What she wanted were connections that were useful, beneficial.
As she was organizing her thoughts—
"Pathetic."
Rosalia's quiet murmur silenced the buzzing classroom.
"School reopening, Founding Day, festival. I understand."
Three elements more than enough to excite students.
And the fact that her audience was composed of first-years made for a fourth element.
But that did not mean they were allowed to listen with distracted, flighty minds.
"There's still a week left until the festival. And right now, this isn't festival-prep time—it's Combat, War, and Magic class."
"…Sorry, Professor."
At her cold reprimand, the students lowered their heads.
"It's fine. It's not the first time I've had students like you."
The Academy's festival was already so famous it was known everywhere for its brilliance. Naturally, students being excited for their first festival was to be expected.
Which was why professors knew well how to deal with such a restless atmosphere.
"Aaron."
"Yes, Professor."
"Tell them to come in."
"Yes."
Ten teaching assistants from the Magic Department entered and lined up at the front.
"Today's lesson will be a magic duel with the TAs. Each of you, stand before the TA you want."
Grinding them down until there was no room for idle thoughts.
"Aria Fridien."
"Yes, Professor!"
The red-haired elf replied brightly.
Among those who had lived through the Academy-upending abomination incident, she was the only first-year in the Magic Department.
Rosalia had yet to meet Fernan, so she was quite curious—how had Aria changed, what influence had the demon left on her?
After all, a demon would not have just come out for a casual stroll.
"You'll go first."
"…Me?"
"You seemed the least interested in my lecture. Surely that means you're confident?"
"…That's not…"
"Step forward."
Like a fish hooked on a line, Aria was dragged out pitifully.
"Next, Jace Vines, Daniel Alfrsen, Verdi Inua…"
The top ten students were called forth. Twenty in total now stood in pairs upon their dueling platforms.
"Begin."
────!
The TAs gave no quarter.
Memorized spells burst forth like fireworks.
"Thank you for your hard work."
"…I'm exhausted."
Rosalia, having just returned from hunting down the last abomination, sank into the sofa half-reclined.
She put a cigarette to her lips, lit it with a spark at her fingertip, and exhaled. Smoke drifted out past the window.
"…Now I can finally breathe. As expected, the Golden Turtle's products are good."
"If you rely on that to fill your stomach, it'll wear your body down eventually."
"Then I'll just blame the Golden Turtle for selling faulty goods."
Satisfying fullness, brimming vitality, and even a faint stimulant effect. What she smoked wasn't an ordinary cigarette but a consumable-type magic artifact.
"Wouldn't you like to rest for a while?"
"Aaron."
Rosalia cut him off.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
The Academy wanted this abomination incident dealt with in secrecy.
The chaos could not be allowed to taint the festival or disturb daily life at the Academy.
Thus Rosalia had to balance her duties as a professor—lectures and research—while also carrying out the work of the Guardian Corps.
"With the Chancellor himself breathing down our necks, we have to give it our best."
Having smoked the cigarette down to ash, Rosalia muttered dully.
"But it's interesting."
She turned over some documents. Notes on the very class from earlier.
Battle reports on each student, written by the TAs.
At a glance, there were no problems. The rankings existed for a reason, and the students' performance matched them.
But when examined closely—
"Aria Fridien's movements were smoother."
"The flow of her mana grew more natural, and her casting speed was quicker. Seems she achieved something over the break."
"Perhaps."
Or maybe she gained insight through fighting the abominations.
Rosalia kept that thought to herself.
Details about the abominations were still top secret, and word hadn't spread even to the TAs.
The Chancellor believed that if any abominations were hiding in the Academy, they were most likely disguised as TAs, students, or townsfolk.
It was unlikely that renowned warriors, knights, or Mages—now professors—would suddenly become abominations or be quietly replaced without incident.
Of course, nothing in this world was absolute. But since the one making the claim was an Archmage, the credibility was close to absolute.
That made it even more intriguing.
Just what kind of beings were these abominations? The Chancellor hadn't revealed.
Still, given the students' abilities, they were likely not high-tier abominations.
That was the end of it. Having set aside those thoughts, Rosalia called Aaron.
"How is the research progressing?"
"There has been some success."
"'Some success'?"
"My mistake. There is progress, Professor. Very slight, but real."
A faint gleam of excitement flickered in Rosalia's eyes.
"Submit a detailed report. I'll review it immediately."
"Isn't the Chancellor's special assignment more important?"
"Not particularly. That's nearly finished anyway."
They weren't demons—just abominations. And ones captured by students, no less.
It was worth caution but not worth obsession.
They had already scoured the Academy, rooted out hideouts, and captured the lurking abominations.
That was enough. The rest wasn't her responsibility.
"More importantly, this research matters to me."
And what she would gain from it.
"Honestly, I feel the same. I'll return to the lab, then."
Rosalia waved her hand, issuing dismissal. Aaron left the office.
"…Of course it's important. More than important."
Aaron walked toward the lab, a subtle smile on his lips.
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