The Royal Academy attended by young talents between the ages of 18 and 25.
Some more commonly referred to it as the Pendragon Academy; it was somewhat akin to a military academy.
Regardless of social status, they were simply students and cadets.
Whatever they did outside held no relevance here.
…Criminals being the exception, of course.
Anyway, due to these characteristics, all sorts of human spectrums gathered at the academy, and there was no shortage of students who enrolled to break through the limits of their social status.
However, the academy exams were exceedingly difficult, and even if one managed to enroll, graduating was just as hard.
Not only did one have to complete credits, but failing to achieve the average score in certain specialized subjects or falling short of the baseline frequently resulted in expulsion.
An average graduation rate of 10%.
Even if a thousand enrolled, one could witness the rare sight of only a hundred graduating.
However, graduation alone opened the path to high-ranking positions within the kingdom, so even nobles did not easily give up on the academy.
Well, despite all this difficulty, the new students were not intimidated; rather, they overflowed with confidence.
They had conviction.
The belief that with 'confidence,' they could unconditionally graduate.
That was only natural, for they were those whose 'talent' had been recognized.
The very fact that they were enrolled meant most of them had been called prodigies or geniuses since childhood.
Thus, they were arrogant enough not to harbor any worries about being expelled.
…However, their confidence in becoming the very best was distinctly lacking.
That was because this semester saw a massive influx of historically unprecedented geniuses.
For example.
"Is that woman the mage?"
"She opened the spell world purely through self-study, right?"
"A genius indeed."
A beautiful woman with striking blonde hair.
Her beauty evoked the mystical race of fairies, but what stood out even more than that beauty was the faint, water-like ripple of light radiating from her body.
Magical power.
A mage's talent born only in a select few humans.
Being born with it alone was incredibly rare, and it was no exaggeration to say they were blessed by nature.
Irene Windler.
Born a commoner, she was one of only ten mages among this term's new students.
However, because her talent was overwhelmingly the greatest among the ten, everyone focused on her.
If the newspaper article from the previous day was true, Duke Galahad himself had taken her in as his adopted daughter....
Thus, it was only natural for all eyes to converge on her.
"…Mm."
However, it seemed she wasn't the type to enjoy the attention of others. Irene Windler shyly turned her head away.
Consequently, people's gazes automatically shifted to other figures.
The Mercenary King's disciple.
The Sword Duke's eldest son.
The Prime Minister's second daughter.
The Great Merchant's son.
The descendants of the mystical races.
To be certain, they were undoubtedly the biggest catches of this semester.
"I feel sorry saying this to the previous cohorts, but this term is, without a doubt, beyond abundant—it's astronomical."
"Who could disagree?"
"The royal family is already keeping an eye on some of them."
"Hmm, hmm."
"Still, even among such formidable talents, I suspect that man will take the top spot this semester."
"Definitely…."
"I agree."
Among the incredibly formidable talents, there was a figure who shone exceptionally bright.
An aloof atmosphere and a handsome appearance.
The man, armed with an overwhelming aura, evoked the image of a sculpture just by looking at him.
Roen Dmitri de Lionel.
The illegitimate son of the Grand Duke's family. However, a genius who rendered even the status of an illegitimate child meaningless.
His skills were known to already rival those of a proper knight, and he was recognized as the one who opened a new horizon in aura techniques.
If the gazes directed at Irene Windler were filled with mystery and awe, the looks people gave Roen contained an even mix of faint envy and admiration.
Many revealed their baser instincts, wanting to somehow defeat him despite his status as an illegitimate child.
"-----."
Yet, not a single inch of disorder could be seen on his face.
His inhuman face momentarily seemed cold.
As if his entire body was asserting, 'I am different from you.'
That was probably an element that made him a bit more unlikable, but ordinary people were too busy admiring him.
Noble bloodline and overwhelming talent. The reputation he had built so far, plus the achievement of entering as the top of his class.
From commoners to nobles, quite a number of people gazed at him with admiration.
[The entrance ceremony will now commence. Cadets, please take your seats, and guardians and guests are also requested to sit down. I will say it again. The entrance ceremony is starting now, so guardians and guests, please-!]
Leaving behind the formidable cadets who foretold countless upheavals, the entrance ceremony finally began.
* * *
'…I'm, I'm shaking.'
Irene Windler.
She was trying her best to hold it in, but her whole body was shivering.
That was only natural, as she was the type of person who found this kind of attention extremely uncomfortable.
If it were up to her, she wouldn't care about the academy and would rather not attend at all; she was a woman like a pet hamster who just wanted to play and eat in a cozy nest.
That was Irene Windler.
However, Irene Windler had to attend this academy.
The reason was none other than…
[Wow, Arin, look at this! There are so many people, wow…!]
'Shut up. I'm so nervous I feel like I'm going to throw up.'
[Arin, you're just too timid. You should just enjoy the situation.]
'Do you think I'm some social butterfly like you?'
[What's a social butterfly?]
'Exactly someone like you.'
[…Sometimes Arin says things I can't understand.]
A noisy voice echoed in Irene Windler's mind.
The identity of that voice was a woman who had been with her for seven years, and at the same time, the owner of this body.
In other words, the owner of the 'original body' that she was currently occupying.
If someone saw this, they might suspect schizophrenia, but Irene did not have schizophrenia; she had memories of the world she originally lived in.
Because of that, she had to return, and she had an obligation to return this body to its original owner.
'Damn angel, I will definitely find you and pluck every single one of your wings!'
Recalling the culprit who dragged her into this world, Irene ground her teeth.
[But, Arin. I know it's late to doubt you now, but is the
'Yes, absolutely! They appear near the end of the original work to help the female lead.'
[Ah, that person who is the Duke's biological daughter?]
'Yeah.'
[Hmm, the Duke's biological daughter. I wonder what she looks like, hehe.]
'…It must be nice having such a simple mind.'
When her own head was hurting to death.
'So far, things have been progressing according to the original work, so the female lead will definitely appear as well.'
Hadn't she confirmed it all along?
That the contents of the original work were progressing steadily.
Therefore, she had to catch the angel at the very last moment, subdue them, or even threaten them to find a way.
A way to end this incredibly complex cohabitation and for both of them to head toward a happy ending.
……However.
'…Why is the male lead here?'
One thing Irene Windler couldn't understand.
That was because of a certain man on one side, radiating an aloof aura.
Roen.
The male lead of the original work, who, if things had gone as originally planned, would have started a rebellion in the Grand Duke's estate instead of the academy and taken over the Grand Duchy at a young age—the Iron-Blooded Grand Duke.
However, unlike the original work, Roen had entered the capital, and the academy at that, instead of causing a bloody rebellion.
Seeing this, Irene's heart grew complicated.
Because she didn't know what kind of butterfly effect this different flow from the original work would bring.
Swoosh.
Flinch!
Perhaps noticing Irene's gaze for a moment, Roen turned his eyes toward her, and Irene quickly lowered her head as if to avoid his gaze.
Her crown still stung, perhaps because his bladelike gaze continued, but she absolutely couldn't look up.
[Arin, you're a coward.]
'Shut up.'
[Hmph, Arin said a bad word.]
…She really is an annoying kid.
She's five years younger, for real!
'…Ah, I'm not a grumpy old man, you know.'
After dealing with this ill-mannered kid for 7 years, it felt like my personality was naturally getting ruined.
To return to her original kind personality as soon as possible, she prayed for the day she would catch the angel.
Even if it was just to avenge her grudge by plucking every single one of those damn feathers.
'My CSAT, seriously…!'
To take revenge on the angel who dragged a high school senior into this world the day before the CSAT, she had no intention of giving up.
The wrath of a CSAT student was endlessly deep and burning.
[Oh, Arin, look at that! It's the teachers, the teachers!]
'Not teachers, professors. Watch your words… Huh?'
Irene Windler blinked for a moment.
The podium before her eyes.
While checking the professors introducing themselves one by one, there was someone whose aura was distinctly different for some reason.
How should she describe this?
Like…
'Why is Tom Hardy in a shoujo manga…?'
To be exact, it reminded her of a mafia role Tom Hardy played in a movie.
And as if to prove this wasn't just her delusion, the crowd fell silent.
……As if the genre had suddenly changed for a moment.
* * *
'…Did I wear the wrong clothes?'
A dress coat, matched to the instruction to come in as neat attire as possible.
But since it wasn't a party, he wondered what to wear and roughly put on something resembling a suit.
Since it was roughly clean and neat attire.
On top of that, he applied hair oil and slicked his hair back, so he confidently thought it looked pretty good.
At this level, he wasn't unkempt, and his first impression wouldn't be bad.
However, it was a bit tight.
Not because he gained fat, but perhaps because his muscles had grown a bit more lately, it clung tightly from his forearms to his chest.
Fortunately, the tailor who made the clothes was skilled, so it had some stretch. It didn't seem like it would burst.
Still, it felt somewhat awkward.
'No, I really thought it would be comfortable attire, too…'
Other people were simply wearing really neat clothes.
Few wore dresses or dress coats, and most just wore light clothing.
He couldn't help but feel he was overdressed, and as if to prove this wasn't just a feeling, silence fell the moment he stood on the podium.
……I should throw this out the moment I get home.
'Let's get this over with quickly.'
Ihan looked straight ahead.
Among them, he focused his gaze only on the guy named Roen.
There was only one reason.
He needed to leave a strong impression on him, and looking at just one person rather than letting his gaze scatter everywhere was actually better for stabilizing his focus.
Like that, Ihan unfolded the script he had roughly written down and simply began his introduction….
"Hmph, for a demoted knight. How brazen of him to show his face."
Crack…!
For a moment, the auditorium fell silent for a different reason.
Also, a certain cadet who realized he had been too loud even while babbling covered his mouth, and seeing that, Ihan smiled broadly.
'…Right, why do I have a script? That's not like me.'
Let's go as myself, like myself.
Crunch.
The podium was destroyed.