Chapter 11: Intrigue in the Study Room

The Academy’s Facilities

Inemis Academy boasts various facilities for study and training, including study rooms.

Each room is enchanted with soundproofing and vision-blocking magic, ensuring no noise leaks out.

The list of enchantments alone suggests these rooms are perfect for clandestine meetings, and most students use them for purposes other than their intended design.

Secret discussions among mages of the same school would be considered exemplary use.

Romantic rendezvous, business deals, and commissions—various activities tied to the academy’s internal and external interests unfold in these 12-square-meter rooms.

The most common use, by far, is political and diplomatic maneuvering.

Our current study room, judging by the attendees, could easily pass for one such gathering.

A Princely Debate

“As I mentioned earlier, the event will feature the Empire’s Second Military Band.”

Theodore, the Third Prince.

As a direct descendant of the emperor and the novel’s mid-boss, his presence made this meeting significant.

He was acting as the Empire’s freshman representative, overseeing the entrance ceremony’s arrangements.

Normally, the academy handles the ceremony, but it seems even they couldn’t block the prince’s enthusiastic involvement.

After all, no one at the academy outranks a prince.

The claim that “everyone is equal at the academy, regardless of status” is nonsense.

A count outside remains a count here, and a commoner stays a commoner.

The academy was built partly to keep hostages from the empire and kingdom in check while protecting them.

Life here lasts only four years—a fleeting moment compared to the time spent outside.

There’s no real reason to care about the academy’s authority.

To prevent chaos, the academy employs prominent nobles, renowned mages, mercenaries, and priests as instructors, but even they can’t compare to a prince.

In truth, almost no one can stop a prince’s rampage here.

The only saving grace is that the sole restraining force sides with the kingdom.

Our suppressor immediately opposed the prince’s suggestion.

“Your Highness, the contract with the Pathos Orchestra is set on a biennial basis, and they’re scheduled to perform this year.”

Orphe, the kingdom’s freshman representative, shook his head.

“Sure, for an orchestra, maybe. But just an orchestra for the academy? Aren’t they just wandering minstrels scraping by?”

“Watch your words. The Pathos Orchestra performs regularly at our Royal Theater.”

“Still just a private troupe, no? I know someone commanding the Empire’s Second Military Band, and they’re passing through a nearby city. Wouldn’t a proper military band boost the academy’s prestige? Don’t you agree, Administrator?”

At Theodore’s words, the academy staff member sweated profusely, offering a servile smile.

“Y-Yes, Your Highness makes a fair point.”

“Fair? What about the penalty for breaking the academy’s contract? Even if they’re your friends, they won’t perform for free. Why double the costs?”

“Well… that’s true too.”

While he was hesitant toward the kingdom, Orphe passionately defended their stance.

Caught between them, the staff member’s face drained of color.

As a regular staff member, not an instructor, he was likely a minor noble’s third or fourth son at best—maybe even a commoner.

He lacked the power or will to mediate between these two rising stars of their nations.

In the end, the ceremony’s band remained as originally planned.

The debate shifted to costs, and Orphe won by arguing over who’d foot the bill.

Even a prince doesn’t have the funds to cover an entire military band’s expenses.

Ceremony Planning

“Now, let’s discuss the ceremony’s order.”

The topic moved to the sequence of the entrance ceremony.

Why haven’t they finalized the plans the day before?

With only three classes of thirty students—less than a hundred total—did they think it could be done haphazardly?

Ugh, they could’ve left me with Fifirel instead.

Why drag me here and ignore me?

I recalled an internet article claiming that looking at a woman’s chest extends a man’s lifespan.

‘Guess I know why elves live so long.’

If I were surrounded by such impressively large assets, I’d want to live as long as possible too.

“So, the Saintess, as the unified freshman representative, will recite the oath and benediction…”

“Your Highness, shouldn’t the benediction come first?”

“Then the Saintess would have to come and go unnecessarily.”

“True, that makes sense.”

They say you can love someone with a small chest, but it’s hard to love someone because of a small chest.

I’m more of a hips person than a chest person, but seeing such a miraculous sight in person has shifted my perspective.

“Then the benediction followed by the oath… Saintess?”

Hiding her chest with bandages.

Sounds like a web novel title.

It was a magical feat, defying physical limits.

When I asked Fifirel why, her answer was priceless.

‘Because it’s annoying when I shoot arrows.’

Definitely a setting cooked up by that archery-obsessed jerk.

Right?

[The God of Hunting says it was the only way to make a busty elf girl excel at archery.]

Unlike that Dream God, at least this one owns up to it.

Yeah, a busty elf girl is hard to resist.

Still, if she were a mage, she wouldn’t need to hide her chest…

“Saintess!”

“Oh!”
‘Fck, you scared me!’

Theodore’s shout startled me.

He laughed heartily at my reaction.

“Hahaha! What were you thinking so deeply about?”

I couldn’t exactly say I was thinking about breasts.

I deflected.

“I was thinking about the elf I’m rooming with.”
‘What does she eat to get a chest that big?’

“Fifirel, was it? The one who showed off her quick shooting at the training ground. Did something happen?”

Orphe suddenly cut in.

What, what? Already interested?

Hold on.

This is moving too fast.

‘Oh no, the Saintess is right there…!’

‘She’s asleep anyway.’

‘Still… Hng!’

Two people getting a post-training sports massage, ignoring me lying nearby?

I can’t handle that.

I smiled and brushed it off.

“Nothing happened. I was just curious since it’s my first time seeing a child of the forest up close.”
‘Are all elves that stacked?’

“I see. Still, please focus on the meeting. We’re about to explain your part.”

“Hero, why so harsh? You make it sound like the Saintess was slacking.”

Why’s he acting like this?

Does he think a little support will win me over?

If he knew I was aware of his entire arc, he’d faint.

[The God of Affection says he’d have already formed a prince’s guard if it were him.]

[The God of Beauty begs you to stop chasing white-horse princes.]

Fck, make a group chat!

Ignoring the gods’ chatter, I looked at the two men.

The prince, joking playfully, and the hero, responding stiffly.

Both are ridiculously good-looking.

If I’d possessed one of them, I’d be an isekai maiden harvester.

How did I end up in this body?

After three more minutes of pointless bickering, we finally got to the point.

Theodore handed me a sheet of parchment, densely packed with text.

“This is the benediction and oath you’ll read, Saintess. Would you like to review it?”

“Sure, let’s see…”
‘Do I have to read all this?’

Ugh, this’ll take forever.

Even skimming it, the amount was daunting.

Why not just pick one representative each from the empire and kingdom?

Why drag an innocent person into this unified representative nonsense?

Did they think being a saintess means I’m okay with everything?

[The God of War says you agreed to it yourself when the staff came.]

You jerk, my mouth acted on its own!

Your stupid curse forced me to say yes without refusing!

Huh?!

Hoo.

Count primes.

A priest once taught me this trick to find calm, and it works pretty well.

2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13…

Raging internally changes nothing.

Better to do the task properly.

I quietly read the benediction aloud.

“On the 2nd of March, Year 1206 of the Francis Calendar, your humble servant Isidora humbly submits. Twenty-three years have passed since justice stood firm upon this land. As Saint Inemis called your name for salvation, pave our paths with light and velvet, guiding us to your embrace. With the scales of justice, distinguish the righteous from the wicked. Let justice, buried in crimson dust, rise again across the realm by calling your name…”

I paused mid-recitation, and Theodore looked at me curiously.

“Is something wrong?”

No.

Why is this reading so smoothly?