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The Principal’s back seemed smaller than usual today. It had been a long time since I felt this kind of sympathy—probably not since the inter-class competition.

“The Academy is open to those who seek knowledge. No one is denied the opportunity due to the blood they were born with, nor does nationality dictate the results they achieve.”

Despite the apparent sorrow in his posture, the Principal’s words were perfectly rational. The Academy wouldn’t mistreat commoner students, nor did it give terrible grades just because someone was from another country. What a noble sentiment.

But why did they leave the listener feeling a strange sorrow even though these words were so right and just? It was almost as if he was pleading, ‘Please don’t cause any trouble, we’re trying to maintain peace and fairness here.’

Is it really a plea?

Honestly, it kind of felt like it.

The Vice Principal followed after the Principal’s pitiful back-to-school speech, and then the head teachers from each department gave their addresses in turn.

It’s the same lineup this year.

Seeing the familiar faces of those who had managed to hold their ground amidst the chaos of the Academy made me feel a bit at ease. Unless some major incident occurred, the head teachers were unlikely to change.

The head teachers of each department could be officially replaced anytime based on merit, but in reality, the same four had held their positions for over a decade.

The heads of Swordsmanship, Magic, Theology, and Academic faculties were all renowned not just in the Empire, but across the continent. They wouldn’t put some nobody in charge of teaching the Empire’s royalty and nobility. Naturally, these were the heavyweights of their respective fields, and they defended their positions like champions.

Because of this, becoming a head teacher was considered an honor, and even students from high-ranking families showed them respect. In fact, first-year students would often gaze at the head teachers with eyes full of admiration—

—Or so I’d heard.

…This is a bit too obvious.

Despite the head teacher standing right in front, the students were abuzz, their attention clearly focused elsewhere—away from the head teacher and toward someone behind them.

It might have been rude from the head teacher’s perspective, but they seemed to understand, rushing to finish their speech as if eager to step aside and let the real star take the stage.

Who could blame them?

The students’ eyes and the subtle glances of the head of the Magic Department—they were all directed toward the person standing next to me.

I followed their gaze and glanced to my side where a woman stood quietly, her eyes closed. Her long, white hair cascaded down to the floor, and her ears, sharp and tall, seemed to reach for the sky.

“—And now we will hear a few words from Her Grace the Mage Duchess, guest lecturer from the Magic Tower.”

At those words, the Mage Duchess slowly opened her eyes.

The head teacher of the Magic Department? A defending champion for over a decade? Who cared about them when a living legend, a figure synonymous with the field itself, was standing here? The Magic Department head had practically bowed to the ground the moment the Mage Duchess teleported in. Watching a seasoned elder do that was almost painful to witness.

“Just say whatever you want. They’ll love it no matter what.”

“Fufu, thanks for the advice.”

I offered the Mage Duchess a bit of encouragement before she approached the podium, and she gave me a soft smile.

Truth be told, I was a little worried. The Mage Duchess was a recluse who rarely left the Magic Tower, and she’d never given a public speech before. What if she said something so cryptic that the students ended up confused, or worse, what if she wrapped up the speech before the applause even started?

Of course, given her reputation, they’d probably still cheer even if she cursed them out.

***As expected, the Mage Duchess’s speech ended with thunderous applause. The students’ reactions were akin to aspiring pirates hearing rumors of a hidden treasure trove.

“Feel free to ask anything during class. I’ll teach you everything I know, but it’s up to you to put in the effort to master it.”

Of course, the catch was that this statement was as monumental as finding the One Piece itself.

No sane mage would be able to remain calm when the Mage Duchess declared, ‘I’ll teach you everything I know.’ If you couldn’t improve with the continent’s greatest mage as your teacher, then it meant that your talent had hit rock bottom and it was probably time to give up on the path of magic altogether.

And so, the magic students went into a frenzy, including even those not practicing magic as they became swept up in the Mage Duchess’s reputation. They all cheered and applauded until the opening ceremony concluded.

“Baby, let’s go.”

I felt a bit puzzled as the Mage Duchess quietly approached me and took my hand. I was free to head to the club room, but didn’t she have a class to teach? Was she really going to skip teaching on the very first day?

“What about your class?”

“My class isn’t until the fourth period, so it’s fine.”

Fair enough. It would be strange for one guest lecturer to be responsible for all the classes.

They probably would’ve worked her to the bone if she had just a middling reputation, but who could possibly overwork someone who outranked even the Principal?

“I’d like to see the club room. I’ve heard about it and want to see it for myself.”

“Understood.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her eager, sparkling eyes. The club room was just a nice, clean space, but to the Mage Duchess, it must have been like stepping into a dream—especially since it was the place where I spent more than half my day.

To her, it must have seemed like some sort of utopia.

***It had been a while since my heart raced like this—probably not since Louise rejected me.

It was a sad analogy, but it was true.

The Mage Duchess…

The Mage Duchess’s presence still felt vivid in my mind even though the opening ceremony was already over and we’d left the auditorium. Her voice seemed to linger in my ears.

Who could have predicted this? Who would’ve thought something like this would happen before winter vacation, and before I returned to my homeland?

The Mage Duchess as an instructor…

My hands started trembling. I tried to hold myself together to maintain the dignity of a royal, but even that couldn’t overcome the raw instincts of a mage.

Last year, I was content just learning from a regular Magic Tower lecturer. After all, it was the magic of the Empire—carefully structured and perfectly organized magic. Receiving instruction from even a regular Magic Tower mage was enough to advance my skills. And indeed, I made significant progress.

But this time, it was the Mage Duchess herself. The pinnacle of all magic across the continent, the symbol of our era’s magical world, had come to teach us.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Yes, this was truly a stroke of luck I’d never have again even if I were reborn. For a mage, it was a greater fortune than being born into royalty. The Mage Duchess was like a king to us—no, more than a king. In terms of reverence, she was practically a deity.

“Feel free to ask anything during class. I’ll teach you everything I know, but it’s up to you to put in the effort to master it.”

As her words replayed in my mind, my heart, which had briefly calmed, started pounding again. The fact that we could ask the Mage Duchess anything during class put me in a privileged position compared to other students.

Of course, I didn’t intend to use my royal status for special treatment. After all, a prince was nothing compared to a duke in the Empire, so it wasn’t like I could rely on my title to cozy up to the Mage Duchess. But there was one thing I could count on: the fact that the Mage Duchess’s fiancée was the advisor of our pastry club and that her only apprentice, Louise, was a member of the same club.

Having even a faint connection was worlds apart from having none at all. And being the acquaintance of both her future spouse and only disciple? That was far more than just a faint connection.

But I can’t just rely on that alone.

However, I couldn’t rely solely on personal connections to ask for unreasonable favors. The Advisor, who happened to be the Mage Duchess’s future spouse? I already owed him a huge debt last year during the first semester.

And Louise? Honestly, she’d probably help if I asked, but it would be out of guilt for rejecting me. She’d likely go above and beyond, which would just make me feel guilty in return.

I need to offer something in return…

Excluding Louise, who might overextend herself, that left only the advisor. But what could I offer him in exchange for asking a favor? A transaction was only possible if the other person lacked something.

This is complicated. What cards do I have? What can I offer the advisor in exchange for the chance to see the Mage Duchess outside of class?

“…Ha.”

At the very least, I needed to give the advisor something he wanted in order to get what I wanted—

“Your Highness Lather.”

Ah.

I snapped back to reality. Being lost in thought and not hearing someone call me from right beside me was embarrassing.

“Just call me ‘senior’ at the Academy.”

“Oh. Yes, Senior Lather.”

I quickly composed myself and turned toward the voice. It was a familiar face.

It was Rachel Sorta, a freshman from the United Kingdom of Yuben. She initially enrolled in the Academy because of her connection with me, but she became completely obsessed once she heard about the Mage Duchess’s arrival.

“What is it?”

Recognizing her face made me even more embarrassed—I’d zoned out in front of someone I knew well.

Luckily, Rachel didn’t seem to mind much as she spoke up without hesitation.

“Senior, you’re in the pastry club, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

There was no need to hide it, so I answered casually. Then, I noticed a faint gleam of excitement in Rachel’s eyes.

“When does the club recruitment period start?”

At her words, I immediately understood her intention. The rumor about the Mage Duchess’s fiancée being the club’s advisor had spread far and wide. So, her interest in joining the pastry club wasn’t surprising. She, like me, probably wanted to use personal connections to her advantage.

The determination of mages never ceased to amaze me. They were always quick to think of how to benefit—

…Mages’ determination.

I paused, letting my thoughts shift in a new direction. There were countless magic students who were all eager to get close to the Mage Duchess, and there was also the well-known fact about the pastry club’s advisor. Naturally, the club would be flooded with membership applications. And the advisor? He’d be bombarded with requests.

I realized I had a card to play.

I can control the chaos for him.

I could manage the wave of magic students trying to use the advisor as a stepping stone and block unnecessary club applications. In return, he would avoid the hassle and enjoy some peace of mind.

And in exchange, I could quietly ask him for a favor. Knowing his personality, he wouldn’t refuse me outright.

This could work.

Thanks to Rachel, I’d found the perfect card to play.

Although Rachel herself would be part of the group I’d have to control, I hope she wouldn’t resent me too much. I could always teach her later once I had learned properly from the Mage Duchess.