Chapter 40
Exactly one week had passed since the entrance ceremony, and as the second week of September began, Ranje tasted her first real sense of defeat since returning in time.
—Around a thousand years ago, during the era when the First Emperor carved out a vast empire stretching from the sacred mountains of the North to the southern seas, it was said that the sky and the earth were much closer. Originally, incantations were prayers offered to the stars. Civilization stole away the mystique, but traces of it remain in the language of mages. Modern magic involves deploying spells via virtual circuits…
—The most important aspect of reconnaissance missions for a mage cadet is understanding the terrain. No matter how detailed a military map is, nothing is more reliable than a mage updating it in the field. Hm, since you all seem rather unmotivated, shall I share an interesting anecdote? The Empire’s most famous resort, Emerid, only began its development after a mage cadet discovered a massive magic stone during training…
—As shown in the diagram, from the first vertex, when the standardized spell formula enters its second stage, the magic bullet is fired at an angle of 60° relative to the horizontal plane…
“This is bad.”
Only a week into her life as a new student, and Ranje already couldn’t understand a single concept in her theoretical classes.
It was then she realized that, by her own timeline, it had been nine years since she last took these classes.
How often does one really apply first-year knowledge in the field, anyway?
In truth, Ranje had long since bundled together all the theoretical knowledge she’d been drilled with at the academy and tossed it into the fog of war, forgotten.
Her magic wasn’t grounded in formulas but in instinct and quick reaction. What she lacked in theory, she made up for with an abundance of mana. Precise calculations were handled by her partner, who had graduated as valedictorian.
In terms of practical skill, Ranje possessed a talent close to genius—just as she always believed.
Breaking down complex summoning circles with a single chant, successfully invoking spirits while standing face to face with a hellfire beast, defeating and escaping from seventeen mages with just her and her partner—those feats weren’t something just anyone could replicate. (Granted, the last example hadn’t occurred in this timeline yet.)
The problem was that Ranje’s abilities were the type that couldn’t be properly assessed by the academy’s standards.
She was confident she could beat every one of her peers in a practical exam—as long as no one interfered, like in the entrance test. But the written exam? That was all about memorization and calculation.
Because she didn’t have any strong memories tied to her school years, Ranje only now recalled that her written exam scores had always hovered around the lower-middle tier.
If only she had taken a peek at the exam papers during the entrance test—she might’ve realized this sooner.
After sitting through several morning lectures, Ranje had to admit she was on track to end up with another “decent, not terrible” set of grades.
“Honestly, I don’t really care about my grades.”
But what nagged at her was the bold declaration she’d made—that she’d be allowed to pair with Lenart.
“If it weren’t for that guy…”
Ranje lightly bit the end of her pencil and recalled Gibelin’s face.
Gibelin was constantly hanging around Lenart, unfazed by his cold indifference.
Naturally, every time Ranje saw Lenart, she had to see Gibelin too. His annoying remarks never failed to irritate.
“Hey there, junior. Heard you’re always dozing off during morning classes. You don’t look tired to me, though.”
Normally, Ranje didn’t believe in holding onto irritation or wasting energy on hating someone. It went against her life principles. But for once, she made an exception.
Lately, she’d grown to despise Gibelin. She was almost certain he had been Lenart’s first partner.
Of course, she had no evidence—but for now, he was the only suspicious figure close to Lenart.
“I’m pretty sure that was his name too.”
Lenart wasn’t someone you’d call warm-hearted, but he did have a soft side. No doubt Gibelin had pushed and pestered until they were paired together.
Ranje suddenly thought of the shoulder scar Lenart didn’t have now—but had gained later.
Maybe it had come from a skirmish at the southern border just before the war, back when he was still partnered with Gibelin.
That event—when Gibelin mocked others’ grades despite lacking skill himself—must’ve been his undoing. He probably died before finishing his first year.
After that, Ranje had become Lenart’s new partner.
And she believed she had nothing to envy Gibelin for.
“I’ll show him I’m better.”
She’d never cared about things like order or ranking before, but now, Ranje felt fired up. For the first time in years—or perhaps in her life—she felt like she needed to study.
Meanwhile, Erna and Heine were in a frustrating situation.
Actually, Ranje was in the same boat—since she spent most of her day with them—but she was so uninterested in her peers that she hadn’t noticed anything.
Things like nearly missing class due to a room change or being ignored unless she started conversations herself were too trivial to catch her attention.
Rather than explain this strange exclusion to Ranje, Erna chose to keep it to herself, unwilling to cloud her sister’s cheerfulness.
Thankfully, she had someone in the same position—Heine.
The two of them sat side by side, slightly apart, on one of the benches scattered across campus.
“I’m putting up with it for now, but I can’t live like this forever.”
Erna’s voice was low.
Heine nodded slightly, thinking of the petty bullying too childish to confront outright.
“Yesterday, someone almost stole my report. Why are they acting like this?”
Erna sighed gloomily. She knew the reason.
“Because of the entrance exam…”
Since the exam had been split into two groups, the three of them only met the rest of their class at the entrance ceremony.
As expected, the others all came from families worth relying on.
Though labeled as illegitimate or distant relatives, once they bore the family name, they received significant support. They carried themselves with puffed-up pride.
But pride didn’t erase inferiority complexes. Misplaced feelings often turned hostile.
The trio who passed in the second group—where most had forfeited—were seen as easy targets. Nobodies without powerful backers.
Even with Simone supporting the sisters, her family had lost influence due to years of internal strife. And Petra had already returned west. Heine had no protection to speak of.
To make matters worse, news spread that they’d essentially been exempt from the practical portion of the exam. The part where they’d nearly died had been covered up—so their peers mocked them freely.
The bullying mostly targeted Erna.
Heine’s large frame made her less of a target, and Ranje, who stood out in bizarre ways, was hard to predict. Erna, being small and quiet, was the easiest prey.
She rubbed her still-aching knee—a bruise from tripping two days ago.
“You haven’t told your sister yet?”
Heine hadn’t seen it firsthand, but she could guess the culprit.
The most high-ranking peer in their class, Veronica Alacus, had pride to match her pedigree.
When Erna stood out in lectures and Ranje outshined everyone in training, Veronica’s disdain became obvious.
Heine herself had been targeted once, simply for hanging around them. No way Veronica would leave Erna alone.
Heine hoped Erna would tell Ranje the truth.
No matter how cautious Erna was, she couldn’t defend against every sneaky attack. And Heine couldn’t stay by her side all the time.
In times like this, you couldn’t help but hope Ranje would come up with one of her weird but effective solutions.
“But… Ranje’s busy.”
Though they weren’t allowed to leave campus yet, today was their one weekly break.
Even Ranje, who usually looked sleepy or sulky during class, was too busy “studying” to join them.
“If I tell her the truth, who knows what she’ll do…”
Erna parted her lips as if to say more, then changed her mind. Even if they were getting close, this felt too embarrassing to share with Heine.
“…There’s no need to worry her. Now that I think about it, this is something I should handle myself. I’ll head back to the dorm now.”
Heine had looked like she was about to argue, so Erna quickly ended the conversation.
“I’ll talk to her myself.”
Watching Erna’s retreating back, Heine made up her mind.
They had survived the monsters together—she couldn’t just stand by and watch her get mistreated.
Even if Erna didn’t want to admit it, Ranje was directly involved in all this. Whether she was truly oblivious or just pretending not to know, Ranje herself was also being isolated.
On the way back to the dorms, Heine happened to spot Ranje and Lenart—and she walked straight toward them without hesitation.
The academy had strict rules on leaving campus, but made up for it by offering plenty of outdoor rest areas. Like earlier, Ranje and Lenart were sitting side by side at a bench with a table.
Lenart was holding a stack of papers, his expression none too pleased. Ranje noticed Heine approaching first.
“What’s up?”
Lenart also looked up and gave a slight nod of greeting.
“Your Highness. I hope you’ve been well.”
“We’ve run into each other often enough. No need for formalities, don’t you think?”
His cold reply clearly had a different source—something that had soured his mood.
Likely Ranje’s fault, judging by the cheerful voice she used next:
“Where are you coming from? A walk? I’ve been showing my assignments to the senior here.”
Now that Heine was closer, she saw the densely filled worksheets from yesterday.
“Erna seemed busy just solving her own. She says these things are more fun when you do them yourself.”
“More than fun, it’s simply better for improving your skills. You should take a page from your sister’s book.”
Still, Lenart wasn’t the type to just leave her to struggle. He’d been trying to help Ranje grasp the formulas for a whole hour now.
