NOVPUB"Should we simply—accept it as well?"
Lilia's voice carried through the classroom, soft yet piercing, landing like the final stroke of a carefully orchestrated strategy.
With this question, she revealed her trump card—a move so deliberate, so calculated, that it forced the entire room into uneasy contemplation.
Her hand subtly rose, shielding her mouth—an act meant to conceal the sorrow in her voice, to strengthen the fragile image she was crafting before their eyes.
But Ashok saw it for what it truly was.
He saw past the carefully arranged mask of distress, past the trembling words that carried an illusion of hurt.
Behind the shield of pitiful vulnerability, behind the act of wounded innocence, there was something else—
A smile.
Not one meant for comfort or kindness.
But one meant for victory.
'So, this was her plan all along', Ashok thought, shifting his focus ever so slightly, letting his gaze trace the expressions of the watching students from the corner of his eye.
Lilia's words landed like a spark upon dry grass, igniting a wave of astonishment among the students.
Until now, none of them had known—had even considered—that someone among them had entered the Academy after the allotted time.
Yet now, with her framing of the truth, the class stirred restlessly.
Murmurs broke out.
"Now that I think about it—I didn't see him at the Orientation Ceremony."
"Yeah… He wasn't there at all."
"I didn't see him either."
The whispers swelled, small voices merging, forming a collective conclusion.
Their expressions shifted, curiosity dissolving into suspicion as all eyes turned toward Adlet.
For the first time, they questioned his presence—his acceptance into the Academy despite breaking a rule.
And just as Lilia had intended, a quiet demand for answers filled the space, their disbelief morphing into silent accusation.
Elara's gaze sharpened, her mind racing with speculation.
'Is there something special about him that the Academy had to take him?'
She already knew—her father aimed to acquire the Academy.
In her eyes, it wasn't wrong.
A powerful institution like the Academy was too valuable to remain neutral—it was wasted potential, sitting unclaimed while it held influence beyond measure.
Yet now, this revelation—a student breaking the rules and being admitted without consequence—was something she had never heard of before.
At first glance, it might have seemed insignificant, merely a small anomaly in the Academy's rigid structure.
But Elara was not blind.
She knew—this was not small in the slightest.
Her mind spun through countless possibilities, narrowing down the most viable explanations.
There were two she could not ignore.
First—Adlet could be a heaven-defying talent, one so rare, so immeasurable, that his presence could reshape the future of the Academy's standing within the Empire and she had already caught a small glimpse of it when he was releasing the pressure of a SS Ranker on the road.
Second—his admission directly benefits the Academy in an extraordinary way, a hidden advantage that made his presence necessary.
Either way—he was no ordinary student.
And Elara?
'I have to get to the depths of this matter.'
Her curiosity had shifted—this was no longer just interest. This was necessity.
Unlike Elara, whose thoughts had turned toward mystery and ambition, Alina's perspective was entirely different.
She did not ponder the Academy's motives.
She did not consider hidden benefits or exceptional talent.
Because in her mind—there was no way her exiled brother possessed enough talent to warrant such privilege.
She refused to believe that Adlet had anything valuable to offer—to her, to the Academy, or to the Empire itself.
Her thoughts did not swim with speculation.
They burned with denial.
Seated among the murmuring students, Alina's expression hardened, her thoughts drowning in disdain.
'Just what did this bastard do to set foot in the Academy?'
To her, there was no justification, no hidden truth that could make Adlet worthy of stepping into a place of prestige.
His very presence was an insult, a contradiction to everything the Academy stood for.
And more than that—she could not accept it.
Across the room, Althea's gaze remained calm,
A smile curled at the edges of her lips, not in amusement but in recognition of change.
'The tides seem to have turned.'
The game had shifted direction.
And watching it unfold was far more intriguing than interfering. Beside her Leon remained still not unable to understand how did the situation suddenly shifted.
Unlike many others, Gideon was not angered—he was intrigued.
He leaned back slightly, his smirk deepening as he processed the implications.
'This could be bigger than I imagined.'
There was something hidden here, something not yet revealed.
And if there was an opportunity to uncover it—Gideon intended to seize it.
Unlike the growing crowd of murmuring students, Isolde remained still, waiting.
She would not be swayed by speculation alone—Adlet's reply would decide her stance.
Only after hearing his words would she come to her conclusion.
Until then, she simply observed, listening intently.
For Varnok, Elira, Mira, and Zog, the entire confrontation was meaningless.
The Academy was built by humans, run by humans, shaped by human ambitions.
They had come only to learn, to take what knowledge was offered, before returning homelands the moment they graduated.
To concern themselves with the Academy's internal affairs?
It was a waste of time.
They had no intention of staying here longer than necessary.
For Ashok, the moment carried an entirely different weight.
He felt a strange sense of recognition, something familiar yet previously dismissed.
'Should I curse my luck, or deem it mere coincidence?'
It had been yesterday, near the Academy entrance.
He had met Lilia, who lingered even after two hours had passed.
After their confrontation, he had assumed she was merely heading toward the dorms—a passing observation, nothing more.
But now?
Now, it all made sense.
Lilia had seen him enter the Academy, and whether it was misfortune or mere coincidence, the fact remained—he had arrived late yet still gained entry.
For Ashok, there had never been a concern about upperclassmen noticing him.
Second and third years didn't care—they had their own priorities, their own path to follow, and unless something directly interfered with their coursework, they had no reason to concern themselves with first-years.
But Lilia was different.
She had not only noticed his arrival, but she had also remembered that he had been absent from the Orientation Ceremony.
And now, she had woven both details into her strategy, carefully turning them into weapons against him.
Ashok had already grasped her intentions, the trajectory of her ploy.
She wasn't merely framing him as a 'special'.
She was isolating him from the rest of the class, molding perception in a way that would single him out—make him appear different.
The Academy prided itself on equality among students.
To be marked as "special" disrupted that balance.
To be seen as favored would turn peers into enemies.
Once the class turned against him, once suspicion took hold, he would have no allies within these walls.
Not that it mattered to him even if everyone in the classroom turned against him—not if the conflict remained contained in this moment, in this room alone.
But Ashok was not naive.
He knew this would not stop here.
It would escalate.
Rumors were inevitable.
With each whisper, with each murmur passed from student to student, the perception of Adlet's privilege would solidify—and soon, he would find himself standing against the Wyrd Class as well.
But Ashok didn't care about their resentment.
He wasn't interested in classroom politics or petty grudges—that was insignificant.
What truly concerned him was the larger consequence.
Because with these spreading rumors, one truth would eventually surface—his affiliation with the Southern Duchy.
Once that connection was exposed, the factions within the Academy would make their move.
Among them, the one Ashok despised most was the First Prince.
A man who saw everything as political leverage, whose ambitions knew no bounds—and to someone like him, Ashok was nothing more than a piece on the board.
There was no scenario where the First Prince would allow someone linked to the Southern Duke to remain neutral.
He would ensure that Ashok was forced into his ranks—whether by negotiation, coercion, or outright force.
And that alone was enough to bring a headache.
Ashok could already feel the weight of the unwanted attention closing in, threatening to pull him from the peace he desired.
As for the game plot, it had long strayed too far from its intended course for Ashok to care.
Having played the game countless times, he had always moved according to calculated predictions, estimating the worst possible outcomes with precision.
Yet time and time again—something unexpected would occur.
Something that exceeded his predictions entirely.
And now, this moment—this turn of events—was yet another situation beyond estimation.
Ashok had always known—his affiliation with the Southern Duke would eventually surface.
It was inevitable.
Yet now?
It was happening too soon.
This revelation, if allowed to spread unchecked, could throw his plans into disarray, forcing him into unwanted political entanglements before he had solidified his position within the Academy.
And his position?
Had to be Rank 1 among the First Year.
The Ranking Tournament was not just a display of strength.
Within the Academy, the privileges of Rank 1 carried immense influence, granting access to resources, opportunities, and authority that no ordinary student could challenge even the Rank 2.
For Ashok, securing First Rank was not optional—it was essential.
If his affiliation came to light after achieving Rank 1, then the situation could be controlled, mitigated, even weaponized.
But before reaching that position?
It would be a problem.
Since containment was no longer possible after all words once spoken cannot be taken back, it was best to divert the entirety itself.
