Clint's footsteps echoed softly across the polished stone floor of the Noblese Academy's main entrance. The massive gates behind him closed with a deep thud, as if sealing off the past he left behind and casting him directly into the heart of the continent's political game.
Beside him, Gareth kept a watchful eye, hand near his sword, while Emylle walked with the impeccable posture of a maid... except for the short combat outfit she still wore. None of them spoke as they followed the headmaster through the long corridors adorned with luxurious tapestries and the crests of the kingdoms represented there.
Clint observed everything but asked nothing. He absorbed every detail: the looks he received from passing students, the way the guards evaluated him, the restrained sighs from maids who crossed his path.
At the end of the main corridor, the headmaster pushed open two rustic wooden doors, revealing an elegant office.
The walls were lined with bookshelves packed with books and scrolls, all perfectly organized. Portraits of former headmasters decorated the opposite wall, watching over the room like vigilant ghosts.
The headmaster walked to a chair behind a sturdy dark wood desk and sat down. With a gesture, he pointed to the chair across from him.
"Please, take a seat."
Clint obeyed without hesitation. Gareth and Emylle remained standing, positioned on either side of him like sentinels.
The man laced his fingers atop the desk and spoke with calm authority:
"Here, you may call me Headmaster Malvain. Before showing you around the Academy or telling you where you'll be staying, I need to go over a few important rules."
Clint didn't respond, only nodded.
"The first one," Malvain continued, "is regarding companions. Each student is allowed only one maid or butler. No more than that... and regarding your safety, the Academy guarantees your protection while you're under our care."
Clint raised a hand slightly, interrupting without hostility.
"No need to worry, Headmaster Malvain. Emylle is my personal servant. On the way here, since I traveled without guards, I asked her to wear combat gear. She can fight, so I thought it wise. But... now that I'm here, she'll return to her standard duties." He paused briefly, then glanced at Gareth. "As for him, don't worry. I'll arrange a hotel room for him in the city."
The headmaster studied Clint for a moment, then relaxed his posture.
"Perfect. I appreciate your understanding."
He continued in the same clear and direct tone:
"The other rules are simple:
First — do not engage in fights with other students or professors;
Second — do not use the Ravenhart name to intimidate or belittle others;
Third — you are required to attend at least three daily classes out of the nine offered. Classes run from 7 AM to 5 PM."
Malvain closed a small leather folder and pressed a golden button on his desk. A few seconds later, the door opened.
A young man entered with light steps, golden-blonde hair perfectly styled, and a charismatic smile. His amber eyes examined Clint with genuine curiosity.
"The top student in both fencing and etiquette. This is Alucard," announced the headmaster.
The young man gave a graceful bow.
"A pleasure to meet you. It's an honor to finally meet the famous Clint Ravenhart. You're quite the name around here, you know?"
Clint kept a neutral posture, but his eyes were filled with clear distrust.
"Pleasure's mine. You can call me Clint... and as for the fame, I hope it's for the right reasons."
Alucard chuckled lightly.
"That depends on what you consider 'right.' But at least... no one will mess with you anytime soon."
The headmaster let out a quiet sigh.
"Seems you two get along well. Excellent. Alucard, take him to tour the Academy. I have administrative matters to handle."
The young man bowed again.
"With pleasure, Headmaster Malvain. Shall we, Clint?"
---
The two walked side by side through the Academy's wide corridors. Emylle and Gareth followed behind at a respectful distance.
"These are the main classrooms," Alucard began. "That one is etiquette, the one on the right is theoretical fencing, up ahead is the history of kingdoms. Upstairs, applied mathematics. And that one... well, that last one is only accessible to those with magical talent. The rest aren't important for now."
Clint cast a brief glance at the magic room. Its doors were covered in subtle runes, and a faint energy floated in the air. Nothing that worried him... yet.
They continued walking until they reached a massive hall divided into three floors.
"This is the dining hall," said Alucard with a casual smile. "The first floor is simpler—usually for nobles from minor houses. The second is for families wealthy enough to afford the high costs of being here. And the third floor…"
He pointed upward.
"That's reserved for ducal, royal families, and a few extremely influential houses. Oh... and yes, you may go up there, of course."
Clint looked up, then back to Alucard.
"And you? Can you go up there too?"
"I can. But I prefer the first floor... it's more comfortable."
Clint smiled slightly, surprised by the honesty.
"Shall we continue?"
"Of course."
---
Now Alucard led him around the dining hall, until a view opened to a three-story building.
"The dormitory is divided into three main wings," Alucard began.
"Nobles from lesser houses usually share rooms. Those who, like you, have a registered servant, are entitled to a private room. But note: it's not isolated. It's a shared space between noble and servant. And it's expensive. Your family likely already paid the annual fee."
Clint nodded, taking everything in.
"Understood. But how will I know which one is mine?"
"Oh, right. Almost forgot," said Alucard, chuckling at himself. "Follow me."
He led Clint down a hallway with larger doors and wide windows. They stopped at a door adorned with the Ravenhart crest. Alucard opened it with a golden key.
The room was spacious, though smaller than Clint's in the Duke's mansion. Still, it radiated luxury and function. There was a reserved area for the noble—a larger bed, desk, personal wardrobe, and a side area with a single bed for the servant. Two bathrooms occupied the corners of the room.
Clint entered and silently analyzed the room for a moment. Then he turned to Gareth.
"I don't think I'll need a guard in here. Head to the city and find a room at a hotel. We're in Mabel, right? Capital of Felgrand?"
Gareth nodded without question.
"Find one fitting the Ravenhart name. And send the bill to the Duke."
"Yes, young master."
Clint then looked at Emylle. Before he could say anything, she jumped slightly with a restrained squeal of joy:
"I get to stay alone in a room with my lord!"
She immediately blushed to the roots of her hair, realizing what she had just said.
Clint crossed his arms, serious.
"Behave yourself."
Alucard, still standing at the door, let out a small laugh.
"Looks like you've got quite the servant…"
Then he gave a brief bow.
"Well, that's all for today. Classes begin tomorrow. See you on the fencing field, Clint."
And with a smile, he left, leaving Clint and Emylle alone in their new room.
---
The mansion was now behind him. And the training ground was no longer a jungle, it was a school swarming with nobles, where appearance and manipulation would be his greatest weapons.
And within these elegant walls, Clint would take the next step toward the empire he would one day build with his own hands.