The office door was suddenly pushed open. Elena, together with the now-recovered Hysteria, returned to the room. At the same time, Linen rose to his feet, bowing elegantly as he took his leave of Teacher Milian:
"Then I shall take my leave for now, Teacher Milian. I hope that in the future we can share even closer ties."
One had to admit—Linen, in this life, was indeed handsome. Coupled with the noble temperament cultivated since childhood, and his extraordinary talent, it was almost impossible for anyone of the opposite sex not to be drawn to him. Milian was no exception.
When this student grows up, he will surely become the kind of figure someone like me can only look up to from afar.
The thought came to her unbidden.
To form an alliance with such a young prince gave Milian a strangely guilty sense of being the "older sister" taking advantage of a younger brother—yet at the same time, her succubus nature stirred, bringing with it an undeniable… delight.
So her smile, for once, bloomed dazzlingly bright, cheeks faintly flushed as she replied:
"But of course, Linen-kun."
Yet the smiles Elena and Hysteria carried as they walked in froze the moment they saw this scene.
"Too close, my small chest is gonna crush you flat!"
Hysteria muttered under her breath.
Just as the three were about to step out the door, Milian suddenly called after them, as if remembering something:
"Linen-kun, I believe the Academy's Spring Cup event is about to begin. Will your group be taking part?"
"Spring Cup?"
Linen searched the term in his memory.
It was said to be one of Eden Academy's most prestigious traditions, one of the grandest events of the school—an all-academy competition where every student, regardless of year or college, could participate. The victor would even receive a personal reward prepared by Eden's headmaster herself, Sorgana.
"Sorgana's reward?!"
At Milian's explanation, both Hysteria and Elena were visibly tempted.
Though the headmaster did not possess the battlefield glory of someone like Gust Franki, she was instead a famed traveling arcana mage—her attribute, the exceedingly rare Space Arcana. Having spent years journeying abroad, her experiences and collection were said to be vast as the stars. Even a foreigner like Hysteria, even a countryside girl like Elena, had heard of her name. That alone spoke volumes of her renown.
Yet Linen's answer was:
"Not interested."
Both girls were startled.
"Eh? Why? Linen-kun isn't tempted at all by Headmaster Sorgana's prize?"
"Fufufu~ Could it be this small fry is afraid of a true head-on match against Her Highness Hysteria? If you won't participate, then Elena and I will just form a team together. And when we win, we'll flaunt our prize right in front of your face, small fry!"
But Linen, unfazed, only shook his head.
This Spring Cup, for all its prestige, was deliberately scheduled shortly after the start of term, and without restrictions on year level. Its intent was obvious: to let senior students "teach the newcomers a lesson" and show them that the world of arcana mages was not so simple.
Of course, that was only the conventional purpose. In his two teammates' respective storylines, both would overcome obstacles, carve their way through the Spring Cup, and seize the headmaster's prize—making their names known in one stroke.
Linen himself had no fear of these so-called upperclassmen. He simply found such bothersome events tedious. Right now, his entire focus was on how to extract more benefits from his "hidden heroine" of a mother, the Empress.
And besides… even if all else were set aside, that headmaster Sorgana was a troublesome woman. Linen had no desire to deal with her.
"Is that so? What a pity. I truly thought you would be interested. I heard that to liven up this year's event, the imperial palace will even be sending representatives to the scene."
Milian, with faint regret, saw them to the door.
"The imperial family?"
At that, Linen—who had already walked several steps away—paused. His lips curved faintly, and he murmured to himself:
"Then it can only be that girl Novy this time."
But Elena, who only moments ago had been in good spirits and looking forward to the Spring Cup, suddenly felt her smile freeze.
Hadn't her entire purpose in secretly tailing Linen-kun, eavesdropping on him, been to uncover just who this mysterious Miss Novy really was?!
But somehow… we've gone completely off track!
Instinctively, she wanted to call out to Linen—but realized he had already walked far ahead. Her head drooped in frustration.
Hysteria, noticing, tilted her head curiously:
"Hey, Elena, you've got something on your mind?"
Before Elena could answer, Hysteria's eyes lit up in realization. She slapped her palm to her forehead, lips curving into a mischievous grin.
"I get it now! You must be sulking because the small fry isn't joining the Spring Cup. You wanted to crush him and now you can't, right?"
Elena flusteredly denied it.
"No, that's not—…"
But Hysteria only grew more excited, waving her arms as she exclaimed:
"No worries, Her Highness Hysteria already has a plan! How about we launch a night raid on the small fry tonight?"
"N-Night… raid?!"
Elena's face went crimson with a pop at the shocking suggestion.
"That's no good, Hysteria! With our relationship right now, night-raiding Linen-kun is way too soon!"
Sneaking into his room while he sleeps, gazing at his peaceful sleeping face, then using the chance to do… unspeakable things…
Just imagining it made Elena's legs press together restlessly.
"What's wrong with it?"
Hysteria planted her hands on her hips in protest.
"That guy already night-raided our room, didn't he?! We should absolutely return the favor! I even brought my textbooks back to the dorm early!"
Elena's flushed face abruptly cooled. She turned to ask, very seriously:
"Hysteria… do you actually know what 'night raid' means?"
"Of course I do! It's when you sneak into someone's room at night for a study session, right? Don't underestimate me!"
Hysteria puffed up proudly.
Elena sighed softly, half-disappointed, half-unsurprised.
Still—if it were Hysteria, that did feel strangely fitting. She was probably the type who, even if her hand brushed against a boy's there, would only think she was gripping the hilt of a sword.
But… if they really went to Linen-kun's room for a "study session," wouldn't that be the perfect chance, during breaks or casual talk, to ask about this Miss Novy?
Hysteria urged her again:
"Come on, Elena, decide already! Are we night-raiding that small fry Norton tonight or not?"
"Go. Of course we'll go!"
Elena nodded heavily, raising her voice with newfound resolve:
"Tonight we'll night raid Linen-kun's room!"
Meanwhile, in a nearby classroom, Gust Franki had just finished his lecture when he happened to overhear the two girls' conversation. Closing his book, he seemed to suddenly understand why Linen would risk his life to protect these two.
So… they've already advanced to this stage, have they?
"Youth, ah…"
He let out a wistful sigh, eyes tinged with memory and longing, as he made his way toward the headmaster's office.
Yes—for the sake of preparing this unusually significant Spring Cup, the traveling arcana mage and collector, Eden's headmaster Sorgana herself, had already returned.
...
That night.
Moonlight spilled through the lattice window of Linen's room, falling across his desk.
The diligent Linen was at that moment studying the so-called autobiography his mother had personally penned, trying to discover some method within it to anger her enough to gain a rejection bonus.
In the end, he reached only one conclusion:
"…Did the palace publish this trash because they were running out of toilet paper?"
It was common knowledge that autobiographies were rarely written by the subject themselves—but even so, the absurdities in this Chronicle of the Red Dragon Empress surpassed all expectation. The woman depicted in these pages could hardly be called his mother at all. To call them related at all was laughable—her own son could only shake his head.
In the book, his mother—the very same woman the enemy had called the Bloodstained Red Dragon—was portrayed as a pure and delicate white flower. She even wept bitter tears over the necessity of executing her own elder brother!
Yet Linen had heard from more than one palace elder that if not for the High Priest throwing his life in her path, his dear uncle's balls would have been crushed in his mother's very own hand.
The only way he could think of to use this book to anger her was to read it aloud in the public square and let her suffer social death.
A scornful voice drifted from beneath the desk:
"Whitewashing is a ruler's basic skill. Strip it down, and every emperor is the same at their core."
Linen frowned, his voice cold:
"Don't stop. Keep eating."
Teresia, leaning against the desk, gave a derisive snort, licking the white cream from the corner of her lips before resuming her meal.
Tonight Linen had brought her another slice of strawberry shortcake. Because he was occupied with his mother's autobiography, he had loosened one of her restraints, allowing her to feed herself.
But he dared not free both of her hands. Not until he properly mastered [Dragonification], if she managed to close the distance, an assassin like Teresia had at least a dozen ways to take apart his fragile body.
"Hmph. Foolish man."
She sneered.
Linen's brow furrowed.
"Teresia-san seems unusually talkative tonight."
"Or could it be, because a certain someone is ignoring a ready-made intelligence network before him, wasting time on pointless things—and looking utterly laughable for it?"
Her retort was sharp.
Linen, however, did not anger. He caught the hidden meaning in her words.
"You mean… you know my mother, Tivira Norton, better than I do?"
"Not quite. But I at least have other methods besides flipping through biographies."
At her words, his brows lifted slightly.
He had nearly forgotten—this captive heroine he was grinding favorability points with was, first and foremost, an assassin. And for assassins, intelligence work was everything.
"I thought your only source was the Tower of Chronomancy."
He said.
Teresia merely shook her head.
"The mad arcanists of the Tower don't care about such trivial matters. I have a few reliable black market traders. From those people, with enough coin, you can buy any truth you seek."
"Oh?"
Linen's interest was immediately piqued.
Flipping through autobiographies—such an inefficient, stupid method—had been nothing but a helpless compromise. After all, in the original novel his Empress mother had only ever been a side character, given very little ink. And the original Linen, too cowed by fear of her, had never dared probe too deeply into her past.
But those black market traders, it seemed, had no such qualms.
And considering how flamboyant his mother's behavior was, how much hatred she attracted, there was no shortage of eyes fixed upon her.
"Then, the price?"
Linen narrowed his eyes as he asked.
"Relax. I won't demand you let me go—I know you'd never agree."
Watching him step one pace at a time into her snare, Teresia pressed down her bubbling joy, answering coolly.
Freedom, that fragile thing, was never what she sought. What she wanted was the life of the man who had humiliated her.
So long as she could first wring some ritual materials from him through this "negotiation"—
Suddenly, Linen yanked her over and shoved her under the desk.
"You bastard, what the hell are you—"
"If nothing unexpected happens, I accept your deal. But if you don't want me to stuff your mouth shut as well, then keep it closed."
Even as he spoke, the room door swung open.
"Surprise!"
Hysteria strode in from the doorway, hands on her hips, laughing proudly.
Elena, face tinged with shyness, peeked out timidly from the side.
"A surprise indeed. What brings you two here at such a late hour?"
Linen forced a smile.
"Obviously, to hold a study session!"
Hysteria winked at Elena, who quickly nodded along.
Seeing Linen frown, Hysteria hurried to argue first:
"Hey! You already held one in our room. By rights, we should be holding one in yours now. You're not allowed to refuse! At least stay with us until we finish our homework!"
"How could I possibly refuse."
Linen sighed. From their expressions alone he could tell—if he rejected them flatly, neither girl would let it rest. Elena, perhaps, would back off. But the rebellious little princess? If he resisted, she'd probably stick around out of pure spite. That would be even more troublesome.
"So you expect me to stay under the desk the whole time?!"
Teresia was shocked. Never had she imagined he would actually dare to go along with this, but Linen's actions themselves gave her the answer: he pinned her small frame between his legs, blocking her from their sight.
For a moment she considered making a sound to draw the girls' attention. But then she saw the blue-red card pressed under the desk by Linen's fingers, ready at hand—and the seriousness of her situation hit her like a wave.
If you dare to socially ruin me, then I'll drag you down with me!
Teresia drew in a deep breath, restraining her urge to flip the desk outright.
If [Fusion Arcana] were triggered, the desk might shield the two students and Linen. But she, face-to-face with the Arcana at this distance, would be as good as dead.
No. All she needed was the ritual materials. With those, dealing with this man would be child's play.
Teresia—endure!
She took several deep breaths. But the more she thought, the angrier she grew. In the end, she couldn't help herself. Her hand darted to Linen's inner thigh, pinching the tender flesh beside it.
"Hhss—!"
Above the desk, Linen sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden pain in his soft spot. Thankfully, the two girls didn't notice.
And just as Elena, having finally mustered the courage to ask her question, was about to speak, Linen cut her off first:
"You're here about homework, right? I've already finished. Just copy mine."
"Really?"
Hysteria's eyes lit up, but a glance at Elena forced her to mutter grudgingly:
"Who wants to copy your dumb homework. We came to ask about tomorrow's alchemy class materials…"
"I've already prepared them. Enough for three—yours included."
"…And meditation class…"
Linen spread his hands.
"I'm already at graduation-level proficiency with [Weave Meditation]. That one, unfortunately, I can't help you with."
"Damn it! I refuse to believe there's anything that can stump you!"
Hysteria clawed at her hair, eyes blazing with the pure hatred of a remedial student toward a natural-born genius.
Beside her, Elena spoke timidly:
"Um… Hysteria, we actually came to…"
"Elena, don't speak yet! Wait until I stump him, then you can talk. It won't take long!"
...
Five minutes later.
The two girls were unceremoniously shoved out of the room, their arms full of Linen's completed assignments. Their moods, however, could not have been more different.
Hysteria was practically skipping, eager to run back to the dorms and copy to her heart's content. Elena, meanwhile, eyes bloodshot, stared hollowly into the distance, exhaustion and resignation etched across her face.
Ah… as expected. Led around by the nose again. In the end, I never asked him who Novy really is.
Forget it. It's not like I actually care that much.
...
Three in the morning.
The girl who had been sound asleep suddenly shot up, eyes wide.
Who on earth IS Novy?!!
...
Rewind, back to the moment after Linen saw them off.
He pulled Teresia from beneath the desk with a twinge of guilt, then frowned unconsciously.
"Teresia-san, your face looks a bit flushed. Was it too stifling down there?"
Who knew you'd be this big! Is this the effect of dragon blood too?
Suppressing the jab that rose to her lips and the flush on her cheeks, Teresia took a long breath. A flicker of secret joy passed through her heart.
It had cost her effort, but she still remembered: Linen had personally agreed to their deal.
"Hmph, enough nonsense. Do you remember what you just—"
But before she could finish, Linen's expression abruptly changed. A strong arm yanked her back under the desk.
From the window came a teasing voice.
Clad in a silver-white dress, Quinn leaned languidly on the sill, bathed in moonlight, watching with a smile that wasn't quite a smile.
"Well, well. My dear little brother—missing your onee-san?"
You've got to be kidding me. Again?!
Teresia was nearly driven to despair. But Quinn's next words made the expressions of both those above and below the desk tighten in unison.
"…Hm?"
Quinn's expression sharpened.
"…A woman's scent?"
Then her red lips curved upward.
"My beloved brother, it seems your nightlife isn't nearly as boring as I thought~"