How to Survive at the Academy - Chapter 195

I knew this would happen. (3)

“Alterations, you say? If there are any clothing items that need repairing, please pass them on to the person in charge of laundry. I will give them a heads-up.”

“No, I plan to do the repairs myself. It’s also a chance to practice.”

“Do you have a hobby for things like mending?”

By the time I stopped by Ophelius Hall after the class on magical creature ecology, the urgency seemed to have settled, as even the maids had leisure time to spare.

It’s just after the start of the semester that is always the busiest. Once the students settle back into the academic routine and start living steadily, the maids’ tasks also return to their regular patterns.

The initial chaos right after the start of school had quickly been managed, and now they were greeting me with more relaxed expressions.

“Do you really need to do it yourself? From our standpoint, it’s no big deal even if the number of clothes to mend increases by one or two.”

“No, I appreciate it, but I can’t be coming to Ophelius Hall for every little repair. I can save my own time by handling the simple stuff. The distance here is too far.”

One of the points of pride for Ophelius Hall is its rose garden.

Not just roses, but all sorts of different flowers were gently swaying in the cool early autumn breeze.

On the campus, filled with the distinct calm of late afternoon, there were many students walking through the rose garden, photosynthesizing like plants, enjoying this subtle feeling of exhaustion.

Meanwhile, head maid Belle seemed to be checking whether the garden was well-maintained. She was walking through the garden with a modest posture, casting discontented glances at the bushes that hadn’t been pruned properly.

It would be difficult to talk to her if she were inside managing Ophelius Hall. To begin with, just entering would be a major challenge.

Fortunately, she was outside, making it easy to speak of my errand.

“There are quite a few pieces of clothing to be disposed of. Most are women’s clothing for internal staff… But that shouldn’t be a problem for simple mending practice.”

“I can just take those to be thrown away, right?”

“Yes, but since there’s a distance… and also, it would be an odd sight to carry loads of women’s clothing back. I’ll instruct one of my subordinates to deliver them to you later. Should I assume about ten sets would suffice?”

“That’s more than enough. Thanks for your help.”

“Don’t mention it.”

To craft a homemade bow, the last skill I needed to train was sewing.

I needed to be proficient enough to perform basic fabric or leather repairs before the homemade bow crafting skill would become available.

Practice is something I could set aside time for, but how long it would take was a concern weighing on my mind.

“Have you eaten? Today there is a banquet to celebrate the start of the semester. The second-floor hall is open, so feel free to eat there. I will inform the staff.”

“No, it’s okay. I already said I’d take care of dinner at the camp. It wouldn’t be right to eat early and leave without notice.”

As I said this, bell cast me an odd look.

Lately, I feel like I’m getting good at reading the subtle expressions of people who usually show no emotion.

Both Lucy and Belle… Even those who typically don’t show emotional expressions let it slip subtly when there are changes in their feelings.

Lucy always seems vacant and dazed, while Belle is always calm and collected—the distinction between the two oddly different.

Yet, they both can’t hide that they reveal some sign, in the end.

“What is it?”

“What?”

“No, you were looking at me with a complicated expression just now.”

“If I appeared that way, then that was rude of me. My apologies.”

“No, it’s not for me to accept an apology about whatever expression you have… I just thought maybe you had something to say.”

Belle replied, seemingly flustered by my words.

“Oh, no, it’s not that… but I suppose I should be more attentive to my expressions. One should never neglect maintaining a composed countenance. A poker face is a fundamental principle, after all.”

“That’s an unnecessary worry. To anyone else, you look just fine, so there’s no need to fret over each flicker of emotion.”

“I see. Perhaps because you, sir Ed, are exceptionally perceptive of others’ moods, you notice these things more.”

Belle closed her eyes tightly, lamenting as she spoke.

“It’s just, the realization that Lady Ed is cohabiting with Miss Yenika… I had a moment of wistfulness.”

“And why would that make you wistful?”

“I’m well aware it’s none of my business, but since Miss Yenika has struggled to adapt upon her arrival in Sylvania, I have been supporting her all along.”

Belle didn’t change her respectful posture, speaking tidily and neatly.

“I was a senior maid back then and now I am the Chief Maid, so my role has changed a lot. Yet, my emotions towards it all remain profound.”

“At first, she’s from the countryside and quite self-sufficient. She’d have managed fine even without the maids to assist her.”

“That’s true, but… please do let us know if there’s anything that makes life difficult or anything needed. Ophelius Hall always makes bulk purchases, so there’s often surplus or waste.”

It’s a very kind offer, but I’ve already received enough help from Belle and Ophelius Hall.

If I rely only on external support for my basic needs, I won’t be able to manage myself when an emergency arises.

Thus, I simply expressed my thanks for Belle’s willingness to assist.

“Looks like managing Ophelius Hall keeps you busy enough. Where’s Lucy?”

“She left for an errand in the morning and hasn’t returned since. She’s probably found some idyllic spot to nap. Is there something you wish to discuss with her?”

“No, just wanted to ask how she was. If she’s not in her room, she might be at the camp.”

“Miss Lucy has worked hard during the new semester events. But as she’s currently the top student of Sylvania, expectations for her are quite high, enough to overshadow any demerits.”

The legend of Sylvania Academy that might never come again. An honorable position, indeed.

However, along with that, Lucy holds the ignoble record of accumulating the most demerits in Ophelius Hall.

In one academic year, piling up over 200 points is tough, yet Lucy has shockingly exceeded 1000 points on her own. Her demerits are as astonishing as her grades, and she firmly holds the first-place position.

Yet, the problem is that penalties arising from demerits alone are insufficient to rein in Lucy.

It has reached the point where life demerits directly affect academic performance, but her overpowering grades can’t easily be overturned, even with all the demerits.

“I actually have business with someone else. There’s a message I need to deliver.”

“To someone in Ophelius Hall? Well, you are well-acquainted with the students using the facility. If you’d like, I can call them to you.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not someone you can just summon. I’ll just leave a letter. It’s difficult to meet them face to face.”

“…”

*

“So you’ve decided to go to the Cledric Monastery?”

“With the arrival of Princess Persica being a factor, I wanted to have a serious discussion with Saint Clarice. It seemed most prudent to go. If not now, it would be tough to find time for a lengthy talk.”

When Ed Rothtaylor returned to the camp, Yenika was finishing preparing dinner and sat down by the fire, reading a book on spirit magic.

When Yenika manages the camp or works on household chores, she always ties up her usually braided hair and rolls up her sleeves… Watching her like that, she truly seems to embody a countryside woman.

Quite a different feel from when she’s neatly dressed in uniform, embodying a studious top-student persona. The difference often surprises the other students when they see her shopping at the residence hall market.

Her life differed from when she was assisted while living at Ophelius Hall. Now, to manage on her own, she has to stay busy and can no longer live as just a princess out of a fairy tale.

Watching Yenika ponder over what necessities to buy or handle food ingredients, it feels like a character has leaped out of a storybook for the academy’s students.

Yenika, for her part, seemed to enjoy the situation.

Back in her homeland of Phulanshan, she would often refuse well-meaning assistance, choosing to fend for herself.

“So I went all the way to Ophelius Hall to inform Saint Clarice, but as expected, it wasn’t easy to meet her directly. I just left a letter with Belle.”

“Monastery… monastery…”

Yenika murmured, repeating the word several times while holding an open book on her knees.

From Tanya’s perspective, who had previously stayed at the Cledric Monastery, there would have been much to say, but Yenika wasn’t so familiar with the place.

All she knew was that it was a sacred sanctuary situated over the sea if one travels down the western coast of the Empire.

However, the image evoked by the word ‘monastery’ has a certain pristine appeal. Removed from worldly concerns, a place where one may sit and receive divine guidance in serene contemplation. It’s perceived as safe, dreadfully dull, and quiet.

Yenika considered such an image and, after a thought, finally showed her characteristic kind smile.

“If necessary, then a visit is in order… Yet Ed, wouldn’t it be too taxing to travel so far during the middle of the semester?”

“It’s just for a week. It’s not that detrimental. I’ll make some preparations before going.”

“That sounds reasonable. But what business do you have with Saint Clarice? Personal business with such a formidable saint, it seems like a big deal…”

Yenika feels a peculiar sense of longing and pressure towards those of noble status.

Though, technically, Ed Rothtaylor nearby is also a restored noble of his house.

“…”

“…?”

At Yenika’s question, Ed suddenly seemed to ponder, as if debating whether to speak.

Yenika gazed at him innocently, tilting her head in curious anticipation.

“It’s just a goal I must complete before graduation.”

Bellbrook, the Sacred Dragon of the Sanctuary.

Debating whether to bring up that name, Ed eventually shook his head.

He had a feeling that Yenika, as she was now, would fully believe what Ed said.

The resurrection of the Sacred Dragon of the Sanctuary, Bellbrook, and its prevention is a momentous and burdensome task that Ed Rothtaylor carries.

To worry Yenika, who is already worryingly empathetic towards Ed’s struggles, with a burden yet to come, wouldn’t be ideal.

Besides, as efforts to rally support and publicize the matter start taking shape, Yenika will naturally come to know about it.

It might be better to speak when things begin to materialize more concretely. That’s the thought Ed entertained.

Presently there wasn’t much Yenika could personally do about it, and laying this burden upon her would only unnecessarily add to her concerns.

“I have a personal mission. Also… Saint Clarice is a person of significant influence. Given the precarious situation of the Rothtaylor family, it’s someone I’d like to keep near.”

“If it’s political, then there’s no helping it… I’m not cunning with such matters… so I can’t be of help…”

For the innocent Yenika Filler, the political process is as mystifying as the twisted script in a specialized book.

Always guilelessly, she engages only in simple relationships and interchange of kindness. To expect her to navigate such intricate thoughts is asking too much.

Perhaps her ignorance in such matters is fitting for who Yenika Filler is.

Ed shrugged his shoulders and ladled the hot stew cooking in an iron pot over a flame. It was something Yenika had prepared.

Ironically, rather than the fine dining at Ophelius Hall, Ed chose to enjoy the reheated meat stew. But Ed wasn’t much of a gastronome to begin with.

His palate was more suited for this humbler fare.

“Tastes good. Did you make this after your afternoon classes?”

“Yeah! We had a lot of spices left, and I thought we should use the smoked meat before it spoils, so I put plenty!”

Yenika beamed at Ed’s compliment, excitedly chatting about how the knife had felt while cutting, about needing to buy a new pot, along with other trivial tidbits and tales.

Ed, shoveling stew into his mouth, joined the conversation, discussing how many logs would be needed for cabin expansion, the cost estimate of the work, and other practicalities.

They chatted amiably about how to structure the new addition to the cabin, whether Ed’s personal magic workshop would be on the second or first floor, whether to build a basement, and whether to construct a fence or not, until supper was finished.

In the gentle twilight, when even such idle chatter brings a sense of contentment, Yenika smiled without a reason, her happiness brimming.

“Belle taught me the recipe. There are so many more I want to try… Hmm… but I shouldn’t waste too many ingredients…”

Ed tossed the spoon into the now-empty iron pot and sat on a log. A pleasant sense of fullness rose within him.

“I forgot to mention. Belle is sending someone to bring some clothes.”

“Clothes?”

“I asked for some to practice sewing. I expect a maid will bring them tomorrow. Don’t be alarmed if a stranger shows up at the camp.”

“Okay. Belle taking care of the camp along with managing the entirety of Ophelius Hall… she’s quite something…”

Belle Mayar saw Yenika Filler as something of a, perhaps, guiding sibling. Even so, the kindness she offered reflected more than professional duty; it was personal care deeply rooted in their shared past.

She had been managing her ever since her clueless first year, a senior maid in charge. Though Yenika was somewhat younger in age, compared to the great position as head maid of Ophelius Hall, she seemed no more than a greenhorn, just barely old enough. To have reached such a position at her young age, one might expect arrogance or lax behavior, but she remained flawless, just as she had been when she was merely a lowly maid. Even her thought process hadn’t seemed to change much from those days.

“Maintaining humility is important, but when your position changes, so should your values,” they say. Normally, they change naturally without effort. To see her stick to her position so stubbornly is almost astonishing. It’s unnatural.

Her commitment to her position and duties, to such an extent, is not the typical dedication you see in people. There must be a reason, a catalyst that shaped her that way.

“What were you doing before you came to Ophelius Hall? Do you know anything about it, Yenika?”

“Huh? Well… the only thing I know is that Belle had been a maid since she was of sound mind. And, well… I’ve heard some strange rumors circulating among the junior maids.”

“Strange rumors?”

“Well… just rumors, but they say her childhood was quite dark… I don’t know the details. Everything about her is a mystery.”

Among the students of Ophelius Hall, there are many with dark pasts. Especially the children of peripheral nobles who lost in power struggles, the illegitimate children of influential families, or those whose families fell into ruin after their admission.

Working in such a place, one sees too many with unhappy childhoods; if even the maids remark her past as ‘dark,’ we can hardly imagine what kind of life she lived.

Ed pondered with a tilted head, but it was not a curiosity that could be resolved right away.

…

Realizing that digging into it wouldn’t aid in dealing with the imminent Bellbrook subjugation, and merely served personal curiosity, potentially invading her privacy, Ed shook those unnecessary thoughts from his head.

“Anyway, it’s Belle’s life, and she’ll handle it. Right now, I should focus on the urgent tasks ahead.”

“Ahaha… The truth is, bell will probably do just fine without us worrying. Are you going to chop some more logs before bed?”

“Yes. I need to harvest more. The cabin seems like it’s going to be larger than I thought. Just planning doesn’t give a precise estimate.”

“Big is good! It’s going to be your house after all!”

Yenika spoke cheerfully with an upbeat laugh.

Ed stretched his body, preparing to move. Although he still had some injuries, they were not severe enough to prevent his movement.

“Is there any water left?”

“Yes, in the bucket!”

They had just finished eating. Thirsty and in need of hydration, Ed walked over to the bucket of drinking water and plunged a wooden mug deep into it.

Yenika resumed her studies with the book of spirits as Ed gulped down the refreshingly cold water. The chill spreading through his body was a delightful sensation.

Then, suddenly, he felt a surge of heat.

“…?”

Ed barely caught the strange sweetness on the tip of his tongue, but by then, it was too late.

“Cough, *gasp*…”

His sudden sneezing looked as if dust had gotten into his throat. Yenika turned to him in alarm, suggesting he drink more slowly, but her voice did not reach him properly.

“Cough! Cough! *cough*…”

Continuing to sneeze, Ed grabbed the edge of the bucket and knelt down. He struggled against the rising heat in his body, sensing an anomaly.

“Ed…? Are you okay?”

Yenika, realizing something was wrong, closed her book, resting it on a log, and rushed over to Ed’s side. She was taken aback by the heat emanating from him.

Just moments ago, Ed had been fine, without any sign of the consequences of wearing the ring.

But what was this heat all about?

“Ed…? Ed…!”

“Ugh, *wheeze*… just a moment… just… *sigh*…”

Leaning on the bucket stuffed with water, Ed started to gasp heavily for air. Yenika began to shiver, her hands trembling at the sight.

Was something inside him in pain? Without some serious illness, his condition shouldn’t deteriorate so rapidly.

Holding Ed up, Yenika noticed a vial in the underbrush, which she was certain she had seen before.

…

Yenika’s arm chilled at the thought; she definitely knew that vial.

She had confidently refused Patricia’s offer without much thought.

Remembering how Patricia seemed unpleasantly dissatisfied at her firm rejection, Yenika knew that alchemists often pride themselves on their inventions, just like many eager inventors, and often become more defiant when their work is ignored as if their pride has been scratched.

Was it that Patricia took offense at Yenika’s refusal and wanted to prove the effectiveness of her concoction by slipping it into the drinking water bucket?

“Patricia… senior…!”

With mixed resentment, Yenika called her name while supporting Ed.