By Zephyria 
Benjamin Claudian. It was a name I didn’t recall.
At best, he was an Academy freshman, barely fifteen years old, yet the boy possessed a physique that deserved to be called that of a young man. His tall stature neared six feet, and his broad shoulders seemed to know precisely where they were headed, which was quite satisfactory.
His raven-black hair, glossy as a crow’s feathers, was cut short enough to be convenient for washing. If not for his tiger-like, pale yellow eyes, I might have mistaken him for one of the Haebuk Peng family who had crossed over to this land.
“…Yes, pleased to meet you. Glow—”
“Benjamin Claudian.”
“Young Master Claudian.”
I shook his offered hand.
I had fumbled with the pronunciation of the name I’d just heard, but he corrected me immediately, as if he knew I wouldn’t be able to memorize his surname on the first try.
The hand I held was warm and firm. It felt like holding a heated stone, as if he had practiced Iron Palm, a Shaolin martial art that toughens the skin by plunging one’s hands into sand heated to a high temperature.
I let go of his hand. I could tell just by looking at his face. Unrefined curiosity, eagerness, and a competitive spirit.
It was the same look I had carried around, unable to hide, from my previous life, even after reaching fifteen. It was a gaze that assessed how strong the person before me was, whether they were a match for me, and what I needed to do to win.
I knew instantly that Benjamin and I would become close friends. Those who are eager to fight always need companions who won’t tire of sparring with them.
Benjamin Claudian was a First-rate martial artist. Even at his young age, his well-honed body likely allowed him to wield aura. After giving me ample time to size him up, Benjamin extended his hand again.
“For what?”
“I’d like to refer to Young Master Ernhardt’s schedule. It seems there’s a lot I need to learn.”
Without further comment, I handed him the second page of the handout. I heard Shayden beside me stifle a groan, but I paid it no mind.
Benjamin glanced at my schedule, let out a scoff, and returned it before leaving. I felt a thrill, wondering how many of my classes would overlap with his.
A few others lingered nearby, but they didn’t ask to speak with me, so I postponed it for another time.
❖ ❖ ❖
After submitting the handout I had prepared to the department office, I entered the dormitory building.
There were a total of six dormitory buildings at Shierun Academy.
Each housed male and female students for the first, second, and third years. It was customary for nobles to occupy the upper floors and commoners the lower ones. I found their mentality amusing—willing to endure climbing stairs just to avoid having a commoner sleeping above their heads.
Indeed, it was a place where status determined height. The bottom three floors of the five-story building were used by commoners, and the top two by nobles. Considering the one-to-three ratio of people, the upper floors had twice the space per person compared to the lower floors.
I was not from a Duke or Marquess family, nor was I of royal blood, so I was assigned to the fourth floor.
In the first place, I had only encountered buildings with multiple floors like this at the Ernhardt Count’s Residence, my family home. Even there, I had occupied a middle floor under my parents, so I felt neither awkwardness nor particular fondness.
The room assigned to me was fully equipped with a bedroom, reception room, dressing room, study, and bathroom, just like my private room at home. While not spacious, it was sufficient for one person.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected a study, but I was a little surprised to see the sword and martial arts uniform I had brought displayed neatly on the study wall.
Four school uniforms I hadn’t packed and the clothes I had sent ahead were all neatly unpacked and organized.
I wondered if this was why they had advised us to keep valuables with us, and my curiosity about the dormitory rooms on the lower floors grew. None of the inns I had stayed in during my past life had ever been this opulent.
Perhaps the VIP room at the Honggyeong Pavilion, which had burned down three days before my death, had looked something like this.
I opened the thick, leather-bound notebook placed in the center of the reception room table.
The front pages contained a calendar, important notices, the academic schedule, and a map of the academy. The middle section consisted of blank pages, occupying most of the notebook. The last two pages listed the names, office locations, and subjects taught by all professors at the academy.
I looked at the calendar again.
Today was Friday, the first day of February. After stocking up on necessary supplies and resting over the weekend, the first week of classes was scheduled to begin on Monday.
It was possible to change classes for a week, and from the following week, failure to attend scheduled classes would result in academic penalties.
Meals were served three times a day in the communal dining hall located on the first floor of each dormitory.
After reading the written instructions twice, I changed into my martial arts uniform. Knowing the location of the martial arts training ground, I intended to clear my thoughts while running.
Just as I was about to leave the room and secure my sword on the sword rack, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it.
It was Shayden Rose.
The boy, who resembled a red fox, entered the reception room as smoothly as if it were his own, took a seat, and made himself comfortable. For a moment, I stood there awkwardly, unsure how to interact with him. Soon, he gestured for me to come closer with a voice as withered as salted cabbage, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
His demeanor, acting as if we had been close for over a decade, was both audacious and intriguing.
“Once you’ve finished unpacking, sit down for a bit, Mika.”
“What is it? I was just about to go train.”
“I know. I know you’re a colt with horns on its backside who can’t sleep unless you run for four hours a day. But there’s something I absolutely have to tell you, just the two of us, before the academic year begins.”
“Just the two of us?”
“Where else would I say something like this? Think about it, Michael Ernhardt. You’re already famous before you’ve even enrolled.”
“Hmm?”
“…Please don’t ask me why. You’re only thirteen, yet you’ve reached the advanced realm of Sword Expert, and despite being annoyingly pretty, you have this fluffy, noticeable pink hair. You can’t remember people’s names worth a damn, and this year’s freshmen are all fifteen, except for you. And they’ve all mastered the assignment of memorizing the Nobility Yearbook for commoners that you filled in for your elective class!”
I decided to sit down without a word. As I watched him silently, Shayden pressed his temples with both hands. I suppressed the thought that his furrowed brow made him look rather fierce and asked,
“So?”
“I understand that you want to take not only
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing all this for me?”
Shayden Rose looked at me with a truly bizarre expression, like someone witnessing an elephant with purple peacock feathers dancing with a fan. He opened my notebook, wrote down a few names on the second page, and replied as if carving each syllable.
His voice, soft and gentle, like the first words I heard when I first encountered Father and Mother in this land, sounded like a song.
“Well, obviously, because you’re my friend, Mika.”
I realized I didn’t need to add anything further and nodded. I had just remembered that the friendships of young children didn’t require weighing pros and cons or calculating gains and losses.
I resolved to attend the birthday banquet invitation from the Rose family the next time I received one, and looked into the notebook.
Shayden Rose’s handwriting was a flowing cursive, much like himself. He wrote down three names and added brief explanations below them. As I scanned the notes, as if engraving them, from a distance where our heads almost touched, Shayden read aloud in a clear voice what he had written.
“I don’t really know who’s who among the first-years right now. I haven’t experienced it yet. The people I know are all nice and well-behaved, except for you. Third-years don’t have many overlapping classes with first-years, so try not to be too arrogant when you meet them by chance.”
“Mm.”
“Just think of it as using polite language and bowing to every unfamiliar face you see. Bowing your waist might be considered excessive for your status and could be perceived as mockery by some, so be careful.”
“Understood.”
“…There are three individuals you absolutely must be cautious of in the second year. Rubel Anti Searon and Lucilla Anti Searon in the Swordsmanship Department. I don’t want you to size them up with the same gaze you used on the teachers. You can tell by their surnames, right? They’re royalty. If you misstep, your next forty years could be difficult.”
“…”
“The man with black hair and black eyes is the only Rubel at this academy, and Lucilla has brown hair and black eyes. Answer any questions as politely as possible. You’ll encounter both of them in the advanced swordsmanship class.”
I nodded obediently.
“And in the Department of Magic, there’s someone with lavender hair and golden eyes. His name is Edwin Kiadris. He’s the younger brother of Grand Sword Master Wesley Kiadris, whom you know, but his personality is absolute garbage.”
“Huh?”
“They say he’s like three mad dogs tied to a single leash. I haven’t spoken to him directly, but be careful with this person. He’s from a Ducal family, so you can’t even win against him with your title. Rumor has it he intensely dislikes the Swordsmanship Department.”
“Even though his older brother is Wesley?”
“Exactly! I don’t know why, but if you can avoid him, do so. He has a large following, making it hard to approach him, so if nothing happens, you probably won’t have any reason to get involved. Try not to pick a fight. Don’t talk to me like you are; answer in more than seven syllables. Got it?”
“Uh? Uh-huh…”
Seven syllables? What was that? As someone who didn’t know how to speak like a thirteen-year-old, I was bewildered and fell silent. Shayden Rose’s eyes immediately sharpened.
To reassure Shayden Rose, I practiced pronouncing the three names elegantly and ended up not going to the martial arts training ground because we had dinner together.