Night, Eden Academy's dormitory district.
Autumn winds sent leaves fluttering down, a sign not just that winter was on its way, but also that the end of Eden Academy's first semester was drawing near.
Only the merciful moon remained unchanged. In this world, there was no waxing or waning—if the sky was clear, the silver moon always bathed the campus in its gentle light.
According to the people here, it was the Moon Goddess's blessing. In this world, the Moon Goddess held the powers of "Sleep" and "Guidance." Her followers believed she used the moonlight to guide the souls of the dead home at night while the living slept.
Linen, however, had considered a different question: By astronomy, the moon's phases were caused by celestial revolution—yet here, the moon was always full. It made no sense.
But when this was a world with literal "Divine Realms in the Sky," Linen quickly fed all his old-world astronomy knowledge to the dogs.
Tonight, Linen was once again lost in thought under the moon. But not about anything so profound—just something more simple:
"Miss Teresia, do you think a person can fall for someone they actually hate?"
Teresia's hand, halfway to her mouth with a dessert, froze at his question. Then she shot Linen a look as if he were some filthy insect and shifted a little further away from him.
Realizing he'd phrased that poorly, Linen hurried to clarify:
"Don't get me wrong—I mean, it's about a friend of mine."
Teresia was silent for a moment. If it were anyone else, she might have asked, "Is that 'friend' really you?" But after spending most of the semester with this boy, she'd gotten to know Linen's quirks. So she simply replied:
"I'd heard that imperial noble boys develop a habit of sighing at the moon late at night after eating too many desserts. I didn't expect you'd have the same hobby."
"Sounds like you're a little prejudiced against me, Miss Teresia. I'm just a regular academy trainee, you know."
Linen let out a quiet sigh. Different worlds, but the urge to get all "emo" at midnight was universal.
It had been about half a month since Master Holly left the Academy, but it was easily the hardest half-month since Linen's arrival in this world.
Tutoring Hysteria was a minor headache; the real problem was Elena—who'd never troubled him much before.
Ever since that "deal" between them, Elena had started calling him "Master" in secret like she'd discovered a whole new world.
At first it wasn't so bad—she only whispered it to him when Hysteria went out to buy snacks. But lately, she'd even started sneaking her hand under the desk during tutoring, tracing letters in Linen's palm with her delicate fingertip...
It was torture for a teenage boy.
Besides, wasn't I supposed to be threatening her?
How did this turn into a reward?!
Teresia gave Linen a long once-over, a sudden flash of understanding in her eyes.
A "regular academy trainee?"
If Linen kept quiet, she might have mistaken him for one of those sly old foxes among the capital's nobility.
But in reality, the boy before her was actually younger than she was—he hadn't even completed his first year at the magic academy.
Since the Spring Cup, Linen had kept a low profile—no more outrageous headlines. But as his only "roommate," Teresia was the only one who'd actually seen his steady progress.
After the Spring Cup, the news that Linen had regained his prince privileges spread through the capital, along with the South family's destruction. Letter after letter arrived by magic courier, and left again from their modest dorm room.
Teresia wasn't one to snoop, but she couldn't help noticing the wax seals and postmarks.
Some were from the academy—but most were from outside.
Merchant guilds, nobles, the palace, even... succubi.
Countless figures of authority in Zijinghua—some Teresia had never even dared imagine—were now reaching out to Linen, their words full of flattery and praise.
For a moment, Teresia found herself reflecting—the boy who'd once had to pull in a lowly little assassin like her just to make a desperate gamble, was suddenly turning into the sort of figure she'd never have dared approach before.
What a remarkable guy, this one.
Teresia popped another bite of cake into her mouth, lost in thought.
"Come to think of it, you'd probably prefer stormy nights, wouldn't you, Miss Teresia?" Linen said suddenly.
"Not really. Actually, I prefer clear nights like this."
Teresia shook her head, quiet and calm.
"Oh?" There was a hint of curiosity in Linen's voice.
It didn't match the old saying from Earth, about "dark and windy nights being perfect for murder and arson."
But then, the assassin girl replied, perfectly deadpan:
"Because on clear nights, there are always boys like you by the window, admiring the moon. One shot, job done—so convenient."
Linen edged away from the window until he caught the sly smile on her lips, then rolled his eyes.
"Seems like a lot of important people have turned up at the Academy lately," Teresia remarked softly.
"So you noticed too, Miss Teresia."
Linen nodded.
"Probably because of the Dragonblood Festival."
Teresia nodded in understanding.
She'd heard of that special event in the capital. Every year, the Norton royal family would invite honored nobles from all over the empire to a feast. At first, it was just the Dragonblood Clan's way to intimidate vassals and flaunt their power, but over time it had become a festival for drinking, celebration, and bestowing rewards.
Most Eden Academy students were nobles, but not all noble families settled in the capital.
So the festival was a rare chance for local nobles to visit their children—and Headmaster Sorgana always looked the other way when outsiders visited. Sometimes a little too much—turning the event into a grand show-off for whose family was the richest or most powerful.
Like whose dad had a Tier-6 bodyguard—terrifying! Or whose mom wore a diamond the size of an ostrich egg.
Hearing it was just that, Teresia lost interest at once.
"Linen Norton," Teresia said suddenly, "what do you think we are to each other?"
Linen raised an eyebrow, answering lightly:
"If it's you, Miss Teresia... probably my only 'prisoner'?"
Prisoner?
Not a surprising answer—but, unexpectedly, not unpleasant either.
A faint smile crept onto Teresia's lips.
"Better be careful, then. Prisoners are always good at breaking out—and when I do, I'll be sure to get my revenge on you, my little jailer."
"Oh, I know. Even if that day comes, I'll be the one on top."
Linen's reply was unexpectedly serious.
Hysteria was out of the picture, Elena was now too much to handle, and all his "Rejection" points had to be farmed on his prisoner.
Teresia fell silent, feeling like they were talking about different things.
But suddenly, Linen's eyes lit up. With a sly smile, he added:
"By the way, Miss Teresia, I might have an opportunity coming up to let my prisoner out for a walk. Interested?"
Teresia fell quiet.
After half a semester living together, she knew: whenever Linen gave her that "earnest" smile, someone was bound to suffer.
As much as she'd learned from staying cooped up, a killer could never be satisfied by a life of endless routine.
"Freedom"—those two words were too tempting to resist.
"Details," Teresia said, narrowing her eyes.
...
The next morning, under the much livelier Academy teaching building, their study group of three assembled on time.
"Morning, orphan," Hysteria greeted, pigtails bouncing as she tapped her foot impatiently.
"Morning, orphan," Linen replied with a yawn. Elena could only smile, helpless but grateful.
It all started because of her.
The Dragonblood Festival had drawn a surge of parental visits to the Academy, making students without anyone to see them stand out all the more.
A certain viscount's son, who'd always had it in for Elena, seized the chance at lunch while Elena was alone, loudly boasting about the gifts his parents had brought and mocking those who weren't visited—asking if they were orphans.
Elena didn't take the insult seriously—the boy's words couldn't sting her one percent as much as Linen's ever did. But when he sensed the chill behind him and turned around, it was already too late.
Standing behind him were two others, equally unvisited, their faces cold as frost.
By the time the viscount's son realized his single insult had hit all three of them, it was already too late.
First, Hysteria dragged him into the girls' restroom and made him gargle an entire bucket of toilet water. Then Linen threatened him—if he dared snitch to a teacher, he'd wipe out his whole family. The viscount's son, through personal example, spread the legend of the terrifying "orphan group" far and wide.
Yes, after that incident, the three got together and realized that even though Elena honestly had no idea who her parents were, the other two weren't much better off.
Hysteria's one remaining father was half-dead and thousands of miles away. Out of the three, only Linen could just barely count as having "half a mom," but there was no way she'd ever show up at the Academy. Ever since then, the "orphan group" label stuck to all three.
Of course, thanks to the fate of Lord Viscount, nobody else dared poke fun at them again.
As Linen and Hysteria exchanged their affectionate greetings, the three headed into the teaching building.
Meanwhile, inside a first-year classroom, an "outsider" was being ushered out, surrounded by a throng.
Other than the one teacher leading the way, everyone in that crowd was likewise an "outsider" to the Academy. But whether by their luxurious dress or the golden flashes at their cuffs, it was clear these were parents—dignitaries and bigwigs from all across the capital.
And the reason these high-and-mighty folk were so eager was, naturally, the person at their center—someone even more exalted.
Yet even as everyone tried their best to get close, an invisible circle formed around the slow-walking figure at the center. This was no magic or artifact at work, but the simple gravity of fear and awe.
"Please, this way, Duke!"
"Duke, I'm the president of the Lamon Guild, would you honor us at our banquet tonight...?"
"Out of the way! Duke, here's the Morns family's signet— with this, you'll have free passage anywhere in the capital except the palace!"
"Oh?"
At those words, the central figure stopped, gazing at the man claiming to be the Morns envoy.
"So you're saying I need your family's signet just to move about the capital?"
Instantly, the crowd fell dead silent. The man, all smiles a second ago, was now frozen stiff, every muscle locked. Not a word would come out, and he could only tremble in terror under that gaze.
Idiot!
Countless gloating—or equally fearful—eyes fixed on him, while he summoned all his courage, stammering:
"No—my apologies, Duke, I didn't mean that! In fact, all five great houses are hosting a banquet in your honor tonight—please, you must attend!"
The suffocating pressure vanished in a breath.
"I see."
The figure at the center reached out and accepted the invitation.
"If it's a gathering of the five great houses, then I'll have to go."
The others immediately looked on with envy, while the trembling envoy gasped as if back from the dead, his face bright with excitement.
Relief, and the thrill of success.
Because this man's status demanded respect—even the capital's proudest houses bowed before him.
The lion of the north, legendary Grand Knight, Reinhardt Rossrian,
Duke of the North, Reinhardt!
In the Zijinghua Empire, truly the first man beneath Her Majesty the Empress!
He'd never once attended the Dragonblood Festival, always claiming military duties—but this year, he'd broken precedent, sparking endless rumors, shock, and speculation, followed by a flood of invitations and fawning.
And the invitation from the five houses was the first he accepted.
At that, many in the crowd turned pale or quietly slipped away.
Because before the "eight pillars, eight houses" era, there had only ever been six great houses—and South was one of them.
The tall figure didn't care what chaos his actions would spark. He simply held a young man's hand and strode away without a backward glance. The one being led—Farao—walked tall and flushed with pride.
All the frustration of a semester seemed to melt away at that moment.
This is my father's power. Even outside the North, in the capital—just the same!
Such force, such majesty—who could possibly stand in our way? Who?!
But as they started down the next flight of stairs, about to round the corner, a familiar calm voice rang out from beyond the crowd, making Farao's hand tremble in his father's grip.
"So many people—can you all move aside, please?"
A flunky immediately snapped, eager to curry favor:
"Out of the question! Do you know who this is? You should be the one moving aside!"
But the boy's casual retort left the lackey speechless:
"Do you know who I am?"
The lackey suddenly broke out in cold sweat. Eden Academy was crawling with privileged brats—what if he'd just ticked off someone important?
But at that moment, the tall figure at the center spoke, putting the flunky at ease:
"He's not anyone's son."
The lackey relaxed.
"It's been a while, Your Highness."
With a thud, the lackey dropped to his knees, making way for the man behind him.
A pale blue cloak. Silver-furred pauldrons. Every line of that dignified face looked carved by sword or chisel. Linen frowned slightly as he looked at the man—he thought he recognized him, but wasn't quite sure.
Just then, a dissatisfied voice sounded beside Linen:
"What's this! Just because there's a crowd, we have to move? We're almost down the whole staircase—how are we supposed to—mmmph!"
The whole crowd sucked in a breath. Whose daughter is this?She's fearless!
Elena quickly clapped a hand over Hysteria's mouth. Linen stepped forward to shield the girls from the man's gaze.
"So this is the princess from Flame Rose—the Emperor's daughter? Quite the lively child," Reinhardt said calmly, like a true kindly elder. Hysteria's rudeness didn't ruffle him in the slightest.
"Duke of the North?" Linen ventured.
Reinhardt shook his head, slow and steady:
"No need for that, Your Highness. In this Academy, I'm no duke—just a father. But we do have a big group—would you mind letting us by?"
"Oh, well, why didn't you say so earlier?"
Linen grinned, relaxing. Just as everyone thought this would end with the prince stepping aside, Linen's next words made everyone—including Hysteria—gape.
"If you're not here as the duke, then please, you step aside. I'm not here as a prince either—I'm just Farao's schoolyard dad."
The surrounding nobles all gasped again.
Her Highness the Princess might be here for the fun, but when it comes to boldness—His Highness the Prince is in a league of his own!
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T/N: 4 chapters since i was gonna update yesterday but didnt, bonus chaps are tomorrow and uhhh no character note for thisweek
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