How to Survive at the Academy C.134

Play Speak

Three Gold Coins (2)

The dawn air is not too cold.

Upon rising from my bed, I find moisture clinging to my body in various places. It seems to be cold sweat.

I can’t quite remember what dream I had, but it certainly doesn’t seem to have been a pleasant one.

Stepping out of the cabin and into the camp, the lingering soft darkness of dawn greets me with its familiar ambiance.

The start of my daily routine is always similar. It begins with stretching amidst the mist-enshrouded forest.

Lately, Lucy hasn’t been making her usual visits to the camp. It would seem there is some business keeping her, although she’s not one to be busy with other matters.

It feels oddly empty not to see her laying about somewhere nearby; perhaps I should ask Belle about it when I get the chance.

“Did I wake up a bit early?”

To prepare for the end-of-term exam, I need to skim through my magical history books in the morning, relight the campfire, and get started on making a simple meal.

I usually don’t prepare a fire-cooked breakfast. A light jog to the professors’ hall each morning has become as routine as breathing. A heavy meal before exercise serves little purpose.

However, recently I’ve been lighting a fire as a matter of course, now that there’s another mouth to feed.

With Yenika still deep in slumber, I gather my magical energy to prepare a simple breakfast before she wakes.

The magic gathers at my fingertips and as I direct my focus toward the campfire, the incantation for fire ignition manifests. I secure a large iron pot atop the rack over the flames and proceed to boil water I brought from the river.

“…”

Retrieving a volume from my collection of magical history books, I sit down on a nearby tree stump.

The forest’s dawn air is still laden with moisture.

Every so often, the quiet is punctuated by birdsong, and the occasional squirrel darts through the underbrush.

Lost in these woodland notes, I turn the pages of my book.

“……”

I sense someone approaching.

Without looking up, I know the figure is seated on the tree stump beside me.

It’s a familiar-faced girl, sitting quietly. Her bangs cast a shadow over her face, obscuring her expression, yet her lips are curved into a content smile.

At first glance, she appears to be happily smiling in satisfaction… but the sight of blood streaming from her couldn’t be more unnatural. Yellow hair adorned with beautifully stitched flowers is matted with blood, which runs down the tree stump to the soil below. A lyre soaked in blood leans innocently against the stump.

Despite all efforts to save her, the bard has passed away.

I calmly continue turning the pages of my book.

To this peculiar vision, I show no reaction, nor do I bother to shake my head to dispel the hallucination.

Despite the rage welling up in my eyes, the pace of my page-turning remains steady.

Losing composure to a fleeting emotional reaction would be foolish.

Without fleeing or fussing, I simply sit by the fire, turning the pages of my book.

*

“I think I can now handle lower spirits,” Yenika declares.

It’s been over a week since she summoned a high-ranking spirit through her ring.

Ever since, with the help of Belle and myself, Yenika has been managing daily life, constantly expressing her gratitude, indicating a sense of indebtedness.

Being able to handle lower spirits meant that she could take care of basic living on her own—a positive sign indeed.

“Really? Have you tried it?”

“I haven’t, out of fear for my magic going awry… but I’d like to give it a try now that you’re here, Ed. I should start attending classes soon, with exams approaching and all.”

A few weeks bedridden wouldn’t make much of a difference for a student of Yenika’s caliber, but she still needed to show her face when it came to exam day.

Seated by the fire, Yenika concentrated her spirit, and soon subtle magic began to radiate from her fingertips.

Whispered words followed—incantations for summoning lower spirits, familiar to the ear.

In truth, for a girl of her ability, handling lower spirits should’ve been as natural as breathing, without any need for spell-casting. She wouldn’t have summoned hundreds of lower spirits by individually reciting incantations.

But current circumstances with her weakened state and the infrequency of magic use called for a cautious approach.

Despite her condition, I thought she would have no trouble summoning a lower spirit. A spirit mage ready to face death should have no problem handling even the highest of spirits.

“Uh, ah…”

Yenika began to falter. I quickly rose from the tree stump to support her.

As I steadied her, a great flame erupted from the magic at her fingertips. Rising from within the fire, a lower fire spirit, Muk, appeared.

[ Wow! Finally, you summoned me! Miss Yenika! ]

“Cough… cough…!”

Coughing and retreating toward me, Yenika’s face flushed with a feverish red, revealing that once again her temperature was on the rise.

I fetched some of the water set aside nearby and helped her drink it, which she managed to swallow with difficulty.

“This, this is strange… my magic shouldn’t be depleting this… fast…”

[ Sir… I…, is it because of me…? ]

Muk curled up guiltily on a nearby rock.

“Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Ye-yes… I didn’t expect my magic to be this burdening… I panicked…”

[ Are…is it really…? It’s incomprehensible to think that my insignificant lower spirit self could cause Miss Yenika such a burden, especially given her condition… ]

As I look towards Muk, it became apparent that the amount of magic surrounding it was extraordinary.

“Muk.”

[ Yes, yes sir! Master Ed! ]

Upon calling its name softly, Muk looked up guiltily, snapping to attention.

“You seem to be going through a phase transition soon.”

While continuing to channel my magic into Yenika to relieve her of Muk’s burden, I consider the unusual amount of magic it’s consuming.

Yenika’s breathing settled, her expression easing into calm.

[ Excuse me?! ]

“Even before, handling you seemed to require an unusual amount of magic. Always on the high side for a lower spirit, your demands have been akin to those of a mid-tier spirit recently.”

[ That…that means… ]

“That’s probably because, out of all the spirits I handle, you’re the one with the most efficient magic usage. In every battle we’ve had, you’ve been my go-to, and this has probably increased our affinity… Plus, your own magical resonance seems to have improved. Yenika wouldn’t have known, but I sensed it.”

Repeatedly deploying Muk in battle along with frequent minor physical assaults seemed to elevate the spirit to the brink of mid-tier.

From the start, Muk’s abilities were impressive among lower spirits. Now its transition to mid-tier wasn’t so surprising.

[ Can it really be… ]

“Muk?”

[ The agonizingly long years I’ve been a lowly minor spirit, bearing hardship… is that time finally being rewarded… am I really becoming a mid-tier spirit… ]

“…?”

[ Even among lower spirits praised for their ability, being summoned everywhere, taking charge of commanding them and being held responsible unfairly by those of my same rank, receiving unpleasant blame…could it really be ending… ]

Muk’s frustration is self-evident by now.

The high-ranking fire spirit Tarkan was likely the root of this stress.

[ Master Ed… I am truly grateful… Without you, I wouldn’t have accumulated such extensive combat experience in such short order… While Miss Yenika’s blessings are deeply appreciated, among the multitude of lower spirits, acquiring direct combat experience was limited… ]

“Right now doesn’t seem like the best time for celebrations.”

As I steer the focus back to Yenika, Muk abruptly stops its fuss, involuntarily flapping its wings.

[ Indeed…! My mere presence is a strain on Miss Yenika, so I’ll take my leave at once…! ]

“Let’s check out your phase transition when we do the next spirit resonance training.”

[ Yes…! Heh… heheheh…! Ahahahaha…! Ahahahahahaha——-! Ahahahahahaha—–! ]

With a cry that hovered between triumph and agony, Muk vanished into a burst of flames.

To an onlooker, it would appear as if it was consumed by fire.

“…”

I rest my hand on Yenika’s forehead, still feverishly hot.

As I suspected, Muk was consuming an amount of magic nearing that of a mid-tier spirit. Ordinarily, Yenika could manifest even mid-tier spirits with ease, but in her current state, managing even a lower spirit was a stretch.

With Muk transitioning to mid-tier, a vacancy for a lower spirit would open.

Acquiring a potent spirit is undeniably positive, yet a complete absence of lower spirits would be problematic.

Higher, mid-tier, lower; to the uninitiated it may seem preferable to scale upwards, but in reality, the roles of the three tiers are quite distinct.

In the failure Knight of Sylvania, those who handled spirits did so in a consistent manner.

Lower spirits served as basics, mid-tier spirits as the primary force, and higher spirits delivered the final blow. Each possessed different efficiencies and responsibilities, necessitating knowledge of handling one from each tier.

That meant the need for a new lower spirit was now on the horizon. Considering the options, perhaps an earth spirit, or those from the light or dark families, would be convenient choices.

Well, such considerations are long-winded…

It was a matter that required deep contemplation, and for now, the priority was to take care of Yenika. I placed her head on my knee and let the water run for a good while.

“A letter has arrived from the Rothtaylor family. The sender is the head of the family, Crebin Rothtaylor.”

Lortelle swallowed hard.

The letter brought by Lortelle’s personal secretary was written on high-quality paper, sealed with a pretty emblem. On the back of the letterhead, embroidered with the Rothtaylor family’s symbol, was Crebin Rothtaylor’s handwritten signature.

After instructing his secretary to leave, Lortelle, sitting at his desk, unfolded the letter and read it alone.

– ‘To the esteemed acting head of Elte Merchant Company, Miss Lortelle Keheln.’

Receiving respect from a duke who manages the continent’s greatest power is the highest honor for a merchant.

Lortelle read through the letter, half-expecting it to mention Ed Rothtaylor, but surprisingly, there was no mention of him at all.

Instead, it contained content that was all too predictable.

– ‘Regarding the purchase of the Sage’s Sealed Document, I believe it is time to draw to a conclusion.’

‘The Sage’s Sealed Document.’

Currently owned by the Elte Merchant Company and managed by Lortelle, it was supposed to be sold to the Rothtaylor family someday, as per an agreement.

Crebin Rothtaylor had completely delegated the negotiation rights to Tanya Rothtaylor, but since Tanya had become entangled in various issues since the student council elections, she hadn’t had the time to attend to the document.

Ed Rothtaylor seemed not too keen on passing the Sage’s Sealed Document over to the Rothtaylor.

After all, the direct negotiations would be with Tanya, who is quite favorable towards Ed Rothtaylor… it was likely that she would act according to his wishes.

However, what about his own relationship with Tanya?

There was no way to sugarcoat Lortelle’s relationship with Tanya—it had always been hostile.

Since their first encounter, Tanya and Lortelle had maintained an adversarial relationship.

While Tanya’s thoughts were unknown, Lortelle felt he had somehow engineered this dynamic.

If you wish to swallow Sylvania whole, sometimes it’s necessary to remain as an unseen leviathan beneath the surface. Lortelle’s dominance in the academy’s daily life was an open secret, but despite that, he still wanted to maintain his opposition with Tanya.

A dominant force is always under check.

By keeping this sharp tension, it would be difficult for the Headmaster Obel Forcius to openly favor one side.

“A bit more bickering would be for the best… at least until this Sage’s Sealed Document negotiation is over…”

Lortelle smiled wryly and bowed his head deeply, quickly reading through the last part of the letter.

– ‘Furthermore, the construction proposal you submitted to the royal court has been rejected.’

“…?”

– ‘The northern forest on Acken Island is being considered for future expansion of the Sylvania Academy, so the royal decree prefers that it remains undisturbed. His Majesty Clorel was also not in favor. There’s no clear understanding as to why the Elte Merchant Company would be wanting to extend their building into the northern forest when the south end of Acken Island is fulfilling its role as a commercial district quite well.’

Lortelle had planned to build a base in the northern forest of Acken Island to manage the inventory of goods entering the island.

The plan was to center around Ed’s camp and create a realm for Elte, as there was a recent need to expand the Sylvania branch of the Elte Merchant Company anyhow.

Having a large base built apart from the residential area would gradually merge the Sylvania and Elte into one entity. Once a certain line is crossed, the academy would not be able to separate from Elte.

Lortelle had plans to take over the academy before graduation.

It was supposed to be the first significant step of his plan.

– Thud

Lortelle buried his face in his hands on the desk.

– Creak

As an employee of the Elte Merchant Company entered the room, they were taken aback by the sight of the pale-faced Lortelle.

“Acting head of the company… What’s the matter…?”

“Oh, it’s nothing… Just some complications with the expansion plans… I’ll have to approach it in a different way now.”

“Sir, there is a report that…”

“Just leave it there, and, uh… could you contact the Ophelius Residence? Preferably the head maid, if possible.”

The employee looked puzzled, but Lortelle cut to the point.

“I’m planning to leave the Ophelius Residence. If asked for a reason, tell them… um… I’ve decided I want to live in a more free and open environment.”

“…”

“Oh, right. And please submit another proposal as well.”

*

“I was told she wants to live in a freer environment.”

It’s as if she intends to move to the camp.

The head maid of Ophelius Residence, bell Mayar, felt her head throbbing once again.

Recently, she had been busy for days on end causing her mind to be a whirlwind.

With all the work of the head maid, she found the time to help with Yenika’s nursing at the camp.

Yenika’s condition seemed to be improving slowly, so just when Belle Mayar thought some respite was in sight, now it seemed Lortelle was causing trouble.

“Mistress Lortelle is not known for her brisk living habits and always requires someone to attend to her… I wonder if there is really a need for her to endure hardship by leaving Ophelius Residence.”

“I think so too…”

The senior maid replied agreeably.

Belle Mayar, before entering her afternoon routine, checked the cleaning status of the maids at Ophelius Residence.

One of the most important tasks of an Ophelius Residence maid is to thoroughly and neatly clean the internal facilities and individual rooms while the students are attending classes in the academic building.

As the afternoon approached and some students would begin to return early from classes, they needed to finish cleaning quickly.

For Belle Mayar, who had been working as a senior maid for a long time, it was almost a trial.

While inspecting, most rooms are well-cleaned, but every so often, she would encounter a room with blatantly poor cleaning: stains left on sheets, dust falling out when curtains are shaken, or even an overlooked broken chair leg.

The maids of Ophelius Residence should always perform their duties flawlessly. While most maids make no such mistakes, occasionally new maids would commit such errors.

One or two errors are bearable. However, checking and managing a large residence like this, similar mistakes are discovered repeatedly.

Belle Mayar thought to herself, “Is this what frustrated coaches feel like?”

These tasks aren’t complicated: just check the sheets properly when laundering, remove dust from every nook and cranny, and ensure the furniture is well maintained. Honestly, these things don’t take more than 5 minutes.

The maids are incessantly busy. Belle Mayar understands, having been hands-on for many years, but still, she wished these basic tasks were completed more diligently.

But taking the mop and laundry into her own hands causes the other maids stress.

It’s not pleasant when others are uncomfortable because of your actions, so despite having worked in a managerial role for a long time, there’s a restless itch Belle Mayar has started to feel.

Especially now, after caring for Yenika’s illness, she felt a sense of certainty.

Taking neat cloths and simple meal preparations to the cabin, helping with the cleaning, and attending the sick—she felt a refreshing wave wash over her, soul-stirring and simple.

Amid her hectic days consumed by management, she found kinship in the genuine care provided to someone in need.

“Ah, right… Madam Head Maid.”

“Yes?”

“There’s another message from Mistress Lortelle. It’s… rather delicate to express…”

“What could be so delicate…”

The senior maid, accompanying the rounds, took out a neatly folded letter from within her clothing and handed it to Belle Mayar.

“It says… they’ll find a replacement for you… if you’re considering changing positions.”

“… What?”

“I doubted my ears too… but the daily wage is three Flen gold coins.”

Twenty Flen gold coins can buy a large carriage. Three a day is wages that even high-ranking knights in the royal service struggle to earn. It was almost the equivalent of a knight-commander’s salary.

Sure, bell Mayar is an elite maid with extensive experience, making her worth her weight in gold. She deserves recognition not only as a maid but as a personal assistant, or simply as an exceptional individual.

Even considering that, such compensation was so astounding that it was beyond belief.

“Mistress Lortelle is asking you to become her personal maid… to manage the new villa she’s building.”

“…….”

“You need not answer right now… but, um… will you… resign…?”

As Belle Mayar took the papers, her hands began to tremble.

A whirlwind of thoughts churned through her mind, then, finding her poise, she gave a wry smile.

“… Well, that’s surprising. I’ve been working here at Ophelius Residence for years. Practically since coming of age, I’ve always served as a maid here…”

Her tenure at Ophelius Residence is lengthy.

The experiences and connections she has formed there couldn’t possibly be measured in money.

But… the short line written in the corner of the document itched at the corner of her eyes.

“….”

Daily wage, three Flen gold coins.

Not monthly, not weekly…

Daily… three Flen gold coins…!!

Her face remained calm as she closed her eyes, but her pupils quivered uncontrollably.

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