The sudden monster wave was enough to chill the festive atmosphere of the Academy.
"The Empire is holding out well, but the Kingdom seems to be struggling more than expected."
"With ten thousand monsters and magical beasts, of course they are. I mean, ten thousand? Can you even imagine that?"
"But are they really magical beasts? Weren't they supposed to have vanished for a thousand years?"
"Not exactly. After Great King Colomo fell to the First Emperor, the remnants were hunted down over the next century or so."
"That's not what I meant."
Whenever students gathered, their talk turned to war.
"I heard we might be sent to the battlefield too."
"What are you talking about? Why us?"
"No, seriously—I heard the Academy is considering sending some of us for real combat experience."
Many of them had powerful family backgrounds, and the rumors spreading from mouth to mouth were disturbingly accurate.
"You've all heard the rumors about the massive monster wave from the Taklakan Desert."
When Professor Grad opened with those words, Fernan thought grimly: So it begins.
"There's exaggeration mixed in, of course, but at least one thing is certain."
He tapped the crystal orb, and an image projection sprang forth.
──!
It began with a roar that split the eardrums.
An endless plain. Beasts thundering across it.
Corpses strewn about, smoke curling up from fortress walls.
It was a battlefield.
Not the past, not some prediction of the future—this was happening now.
Fernan's keen eyes identified it: those high walls were the barriers protecting Altriarch.
"You will be going to war."
Normally, students being mobilized for monster subjugations wasn't unusual.
But a battlefield where monsters, humans, and magical beasts all clashed? That was new.
"Not all of you. Only volunteers, and only those who qualify."
The Chancellor wanted preparation for the great war to come, not a pointless massacre of the unfit.
"For details, refer to the notices being distributed."
Right on cue, assistants began handing out pamphlets.
"Any questions?"
"..."
"No? Then dismissed. Applications close three days from now, at noon. Review the requirements carefully—don't waste anyone's time. Class dismissed."
The lecture ended.
Notices calling for volunteers were soon plastered all over the Academy.
Fernan gathered those with close ties to him—those tied to the prophecy.
Aint, Ruina, Aria, and even Berrian.
He wanted to include Jayce as well, but restrained himself.
The prophecy had already been twisted enough—he wasn't about to add more variables.
"I want to go."
Ruina was the first to speak when asked.
"As you know, Fernan, my territory is in dire straits."
More than dire—her father, the Margrave of Berchev, had uncovered the reason behind the catastrophic monster wave that had ravaged their lands.
Magical beasts.
They had made nests in the northern and eastern regions, driving terrified monsters into human lands.
It was a new prophecy of disaster: the monster wave would become a magical beast wave.
And worse than before.
That was why Ruina was resolute.
Not just because Altriarch's plight echoed her family's past—but because she foresaw it as Berchev's future.
To fight, not flee. That was their pride.
"This is a chance to prepare."
She clenched her fists.
"Aint Armian. What about you?"
"Well… I want to go too. I'm scared, sure. But after facing Andromalius, I realized hiding won't solve anything."
Fernan gave a small nod. He had expected as much.
The prophecy confirmed it, and he had seen Aint charge even a demon despite his fear.
"I'll go too. It's too humiliating otherwise."
"Humiliating?"
"I wasn't the one who fainted, unlike someone. This time, I'll prove it."
"…Do you have to pick a fight every time you open your mouth?" someone muttered.
"By the way, how did Carlo lose?"
"It was easy."
"Easy?"
"No, not easy. Honestly, it was infuriating. Back in Elven lands, I was hailed as a prodigy. But here, in front of you seniors, I'm just another long-eared weakling!"
Her loss against Andromalius had scarred her deeply.
Unlike those who had stood their ground, she had collapsed like Berrian.
"So I've been working hard since then. And it's paying off. Besides, Carlo was way weaker than you, Senior."
That was wrong—and Fernan knew it.
"Carlo is stronger than me."
"He felt weak. If Wooden showed up, I'd surrender instantly."
"Wooden's strength isn't mine."
"Then by that logic, knights and mages with artifacts are all weaklings?"
"In the tournament, artifacts were banned."
"Maybe that's why it felt so boring. After fighting a demon, the rest felt like child's play."
All her focus was on Andromalius. Odd, but not unwelcome.
Aria, too, was fated to stand with Aint. Her growth only strengthened the forces against demons.
"Hopefully this doesn't twist Carlo's path too badly…"
Fernan clicked his tongue, dismissing the thought. He had no time to worry about another man's future.
"I'll go too."
Berrian's reason was much the same as Aria's.
"But… will we be allowed? There's been no official notice for first-years."
Normally, first-years would never be permitted.
"They'll allow it."
The Chancellor was no fool. He knew the value of Aint's growth against the demons.
Even if he didn't fully believe the Armian legends, preparing for the worst by supporting Aint was only rational.
Magisters were always prepared.
As an Archmage, the Chancellor surely understood that coddling Aint would only weaken him.
The delay for first-years was likely just to persuade the Academy's other leaders.
Even the Chancellor couldn't decide everything alone.
"Here. Take these."
At Fernan's signal, his attendants handed over thick stacks of papers.
"What's this…?"
"Deployment rosters. How many students, to where, under whose command—it's all here."
He flipped open the first page, the four of them following suit.
"As expected, qualification means being ranked in the top ten."
Against magical beasts, only the best would be considered.
"First- and second-years will be grouped together. Third- and fourth-years likewise. The Academy assesses their levels differently."
The younger group would go to Altriarch, the less dangerous front.
The older to Count Molton's domain—where two fiefdoms had already fallen, and only Molton and routed survivors held the line.
The Empire had dispatched reinforcements, but between a fortified wall and a broken frontier, the difference in danger was obvious.
"First- and second-years will march together, under the command of Knight Professor Grad Xant and Mage Professor Rosalia Bienderk."
"And departure is exactly three days from now."
There were other detailed schedules and arrangements, but this was the most important point.
"Any questions?"
"Isn't this a lie?"
The red-haired elf tilted her head.
Fernan's eye twitched.
"A lie?"
"You said earlier that first-years weren't even decided yet. Then how do you already have a plan like this? If it can't be obtained, then it's a lie."
But then she smirked.
"You've spent too long shut up in the forest. You only know half of how things work."
"What?"
"Listen carefully, Aria. The Chancellor's will is final. That's all that matters."
The Academy isn't a dictatorship? The Academy has councils and decision-making bodies?
What did that matter? Even if you combined all of them, they didn't amount to one Archmage.
"An Archmage is such a being. When the Chancellor expresses an opinion, it isn't an opinion—it's an order. Going through 'proper procedures' is just for show, so he can demonstrate respect for imperial law."
"That's a complete mess."
"The Empire has always been a caste society."
"…Then how did you even get this plan? It should still be top secret."
"I got it from the Chancellor."
"What?"
Not directly, but passed along—it didn't matter.
"Aria, in this world, there is nothing money can't buy."
"You're saying the Chancellor sold it for money?"
"The Chancellor doesn't move for petty change."
"…Then what?"
"Pellenberg is the Imperial Armin Academy's greatest benefactor."
"Ah…"
Enlightenment dawned on Aria's face, and she stared at Fernan blankly.
Ruina shook her head at the sight and reached for another piece of chocolate.
"Do you see this?"
Fernan gazed at the golden medal Ruina waved proudly before him, her face radiant with excitement. He couldn't help but feel a surge of sentiment.
If she had waited until everyone else left just to show it off to him, then all his efforts hadn't been in vain.
Now there really won't be any future where she turns against Aint and falls into ruin…
Though who knew? The demons' plots and schemes could return at any time.
But the trust built since the first semester wouldn't break so easily.
That was enough.
"Yes, I see it."
So Fernan's expression softened into something strikingly human.
"Ah."
Ruina blinked, staring at him for a moment.
"What is it?"
"N-Nothing. Anyway, this is…"
"I know. The medal for winning the jousting tournament, awarded directly by the Emperor."
The golden medal bore the eagle of the House of Schwaben.
"That's right! I can't believe I actually received it…! It's all thanks to you!"
"Congratulations. I honestly didn't expect you to beat Rob Kaelin and take the championship."
"Truly, thank you. Without you, I never could have won this as a second-year."
She nodded eagerly.
But the way she emphasized "second-year" showed that she believed she'd have earned it eventually anyway, even without him.
Well, she's not wrong.
If the future Royal Knight couldn't even win a jousting medal, then demons never would have called the Empire their true enemy.
"I didn't think you'd come to boast to me like this, though."
"We made a promise."
Promise?
Ah, yes. He had asked her to win—so his money wouldn't be wasted.
"So you won?"
"A knight does not break promises."
Her face grew solemn.
"Now you sound like you're going to start liking knights. Maybe you should've been a knight instead of a mage."
Fernan chuckled and reached into his coat.
"You kept your word. Naturally, there should be a reward."
"I didn't do it for a reward. Besides, just winning was…"
Before she could refuse, he popped something into her mouth. A chill sweetness spread across her tongue, making her pause.
"…What is this?"
"Frozen chocolate from the northern kingdom of Grunad. Produced in tiny amounts for royalty and high nobles, chilled with ice crystals. They say it won't melt for a month at room temperature."
"…It's amazing."
"And extremely expensive. But you earned it. As promised, I'll recalculate your share and deduct that much from your debt."
He handed her the elegant box filled with the frozen chocolates.
"Thank you. I won't forget this favor."
"Good. Don't forget it for the rest of your life."
"Do you know what this is? A sword I chose from the Academy vault. Its sharpness rivals my family's best ancestral blades…"
She went on and on about the prize sword and the elixir bestowed by the Emperor before finally leaving.
Since when was Ruina this talkative?
Ah.
He'd forgotten to ask her to search for the arrangements left behind by the First Emperor.
Not that it really matters.
In the original history, Aint hadn't obtained them in his first year either.
Besides, Fernan planned to loan her a masterwork weapon crafted by the Golden Turtle Trading Company anyway.
"It's surprising, young master. I didn't know you'd gotten this close with Ruina Berchev."
Gert slipped into the chamber with a grin.
"She's my partner."
"It didn't look like a mere partnership. From outside, it was like watching lovebirds…"
"You're volunteering for deployment."
"…Do I get a say in the matter?"
"Thinking you did was your first mistake."
If you took money, you paid it back. That was the way of things.
"Tell Neria as well."
"Well, if you say so. Honestly, I was curious anyway. Magical beasts—after a thousand years!"
"Don't get too excited. This is just the beginning."
"That's why we should go. Having fought magical beasts versus not—that's a huge difference."
"True."
How did Gert end up in the original history, anyway?
Fernan pondered briefly, then dismissed it.
He probably did fine. After all, my father already sacrificed dearly to cut me off—there's no way he'd throw Gert and Neria away too.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"See you later."
After sending Gert away, Fernan took up pen and paper. At the top, he wrote: Altriarch and Magical Beasts.
"…Potions and equipment will be supplied by the Empire everywhere, so there's no profit to be made selling. Instead, we buy."
"Unlike demons, magical beasts leave corpses. Collect them all—monsters and magical beasts alike…"
"Their bodies will be full of poison, so most will dismiss them as waste. If I announce I'm handling disposal, I can seize everything…"
War makes money.
Fernan began devising every possible way to profit.