Chapter 6: Conflict
Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Anastasiya pushed open the doors of the Belozersky residence and stepped inside.
The warmth of the mansion immediately replaced the air outside, and before she had taken more than a few steps into the entrance hall, the household staff had already gathered to receive her.
"Welcome home, Young Lady."
Anastasiya acknowledged them with a slight nod as one of the maids accepted her belongings.
"Prepare my bath. And have dinner brought to the dining room once I’m finished."
"At once, Young Lady."
The maids immediately dispersed to carry out her orders, leaving only the head maid standing nearby to attend to any further requests.
Anastasiya had already climbed halfway up the staircase when she suddenly paused, as though only just remembering something.
"Where is Ilya?"
"The Young Master Ilya has yet to return home."
"...He hasn’t returned?"
"No, Young Lady," the maid replied respectfully. "To our knowledge, Young Master has not come back to the residence since leaving for the academy this morning."
"...."
A frown formed on Anastasiya’s face.
It wasn’t the first time she had arrived home before Ilya, but it was becoming far more frequent recently.
As a third-year student, her schedule was considerably heavier than his, with additional lectures, advanced practical training, and responsibilities that regularly kept her at the academy until late in the evening.
By all accounts, she should have been the one returning home last almost every day.
Yet recently, Ilya had developed the habit of returning long after she did. It was an inconvenience for the entire household, and one Anastasiya found increasingly difficult to ignore.
"...I see."
She resumed climbing the staircase without another question.
"Inform me the moment he returns."
"Yes, Young Lady."
After finishing her dinner, Anastasiya retired to her room as she always did.
Having already bathed, she changed into more comfortable clothes before taking her seat at the large desk by the window, donning a pair of glasses as she resumed working through the mountain of academy materials and documents that awaited her.
Even after returning home, her schedule rarely afforded her the luxury of rest.
Time passed.
The mansion gradually grew silent as servants finished their duties and retired one after another, leaving only a handful of night attendants on standby throughout the residence.
Every so often, Anastasiya’s eyes would turn toward the grandfather clock standing against the wall, only to find that another hour had passed without any ruckus outside.
"...He still hasn’t returned?"
The maid waiting outside lowered her head.
"No, Young Lady. There has still been no sign of the Young Master."
Anastasiya’s expression darkened.
"Wow. This good-for-nothing."
Ever since that conversation a few nights earlier, Ilya had now chosen to stay out until this hour without so much as informing the household.
Whether he intended it or not, the staff assigned to the evening shift couldn’t properly conclude their duties while one of the mansion’s masters remained absent, forcing them to remain on standby far longer than necessary.
"What a troublesome fool. The moment he returns, inform me immediately. Even if it’s the middle of the night, I expect to know."
"Yes, Young Lady."
Yet even then, not once throughout the remainder of the night did any servant report Ilya’s return to the Belozersky residence.
"...Is he rebelling?"
* * *
Not a single moment of sleep came to him throughout the night.
The biting cold left Ilya suspended in a strange half-conscious haze where neither true wakefulness nor rest ever arrived.
With nothing else to occupy his mind, he eventually resigned himself to counting sheep over and over again, watching the hours go by one thought at a time.
Ring–ring–ring–ring——
At last, the alarm Vera had generously left inside the bathroom broke the silence.
"Ugh..."
Ilya slowly opened his eyes and glanced toward the clock, only to discover that morning had already arrived.
It had somehow become time to leave for the academy, despite the fact that he couldn’t recall falling asleep even once.
He rose from the ice bath, feeling his limbs stiff as a log as freezing water streamed from his body onto the floor.
Grabbing the towel Vera had left nearby, he began drying himself off while quietly flexing his fingers, surprised to find that, despite spending the entire night submerged in ice, he was still capable of moving without much difficulty.
It was, without question, the coldest experience of his life. A cold so intense that even the winters of the Northern Duchy felt almost gentle by comparison.
And yet, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, it also felt strangely refreshing.
Perhaps there was something to those ice baths his father had always insisted upon after training sessions back in the North.
Ilya had never understood why anyone would willingly immerse themselves in freezing water, but after enduring an entire night in one, he began to understand the appeal.
The cold was merciless, but once it subsided, it left behind an unexpected clarity that made both his body and mind feel lighter than they had in quite some time.
"Huh..."
Ilya lowered his gaze and examined himself.
The bruises from yesterday’s sparring session had faded considerably, while many of the smaller cuts and scrapes across his arms had all but disappeared.
It was difficult to believe a single night could produce such a change, leading him to wonder whether the enchanted ice had some sort of restorative property.
Pushing the thought aside, Ilya changed into his academy uniform.
According to Vera, she had washed and dried it before leaving for the academy earlier that morning, saving him the trouble of returning home simply to change clothes.
As he prepared to leave, however, something on the dining table caught his attention.
"...."
A neatly prepared breakfast had been left waiting for him, accompanied by a small handwritten note.
[Eat before you leave. If it’s cold, there’s a meal-warming artifact in the cabinet above the stove. Also, wash your own dishes.
— Vera Adelheid Lischke
Graduate Teaching Assistant, Magic Department
Holy Trinity Academy
Imperial Magic Association, Associate Researcher
Office Hours: Irregular]
"...Isn’t that a bit excessive?"
She had even added her professional credentials.
"So that’s her full name, huh?"
Without giving it much further thought, he picked up his utensils and took his first bite.
"...."
He slowly lowered the fork.
"...No wonder she didn’t want to cook for me."
Vera’s cooking was a crime against humanity.
* * *
As always, the campus was alive with activity. Students streamed through the stone walkways in every direction, and the ringing of the academy bells signaled the beginning of another day of lectures.
Regardless of the season, Holy Trinity Academy never seemed to lack energy.
As the most prestigious educational institution in the Empire of Osmanthus, Holy Trinity Academy was renowned for far more than its militaristic education.
Although its Knight and Magic Departments were undoubtedly the most famous, the academy also offered countless other courses, ranging from alchemy, magical engineering, and medicine to economics, administration, diplomacy, history, architecture, and the fine arts.
It served not merely as a place to cultivate warriors and wizards, but as the Empire’s foremost institution for educating the next generation of nobles, scholars, bureaucrats, researchers, and professionals from every walk of life.
Naturally, that reputation attracted students from every corner of the Empire and beyond.
Noble heirs, wealthy merchants, gifted commoners admitted through scholarships, and even foreign exchange students could all be found walking the same halls, each pursuing vastly different ambitions despite sharing the same campus.
It was one of the few places in the Empire where future Grand Dukes, court wizards, physicians, artists, and government officials received their education under the same banner.
"Everyone, into your assigned squads. We’ll be continuing yesterday’s battlefield formations. By the end of today’s session, each squad should be capable of maintaining offensive pressure without disrupting the mana flow of the others."
Elise Margaux de Beaumont was one such student.
As the eldest daughter of one of the Empire’s most influential ducal houses, she was a rising star within the first-year Magic Department, majoring in Magical Combat Studies.
Gifted with exceptional mana control, remarkable casting speed, and an aptitude for battle-oriented magic, she had distinguished herself from many of her classmates despite only recently entering the academy.
Unlike the Knight Department, where students often learned through repetition, sparring, and physical conditioning, the Magic Department placed equal emphasis on theory and practice.
That said, at the professor’s instruction, Elise promptly made her way toward her assigned group and joined the others.
As students throughout the training hall gathered into their respective teams, it quickly became apparent that one particular group stood out from all the rest, drawing more than a few curious glances from nearby classmates.
The composition of the group was so extraordinary that many students questioned whether it had truly been assigned at random or deliberately arranged by the faculty.
After all, together in a single team were the Crown Prince himself, Siegfried Tobias Bismarck, Elise of House de Beaumont, another son of a ducal household, a daughter of a marquisate, and the heir of another marquisate.
It was a gathering of some of the Empire’s most influential young nobles, enough to make even the professors acknowledge the sheer political power concentrated within a single first-year practical group.
Of course, no one dared voice those suspicions aloud.
Whether it was a coincidence or not, it was difficult to deny that, on paper, they appeared to be the strongest team in the entire first-year Magic Department.
"Yoo-hoo~ Earth to Elise?"
Siegfried reached over and lightly poked her cheek, snapping her out of whatever thoughts had captured her attention.
Elise blinked several times before finally looking up, only then realizing that the rest of her group had already finished discussing the assignment while she had just been standing there in silence.
"Ah...?"
"You seem distracted," Siegfried said. "Is everything alright?"
"Ah, yes," Elise replied, quickly composing herself. "I was just... thinking."
The truth was, her thoughts had been occupied by something entirely unrelated to the day’s lesson.
Earlier that morning, Anastasiya had approached her before classes and asked a question she hadn’t expected to hear.
Apparently, Ilya had never returned to the Belozersky residence last night.
Over the past few weeks, Ilya had become increasingly difficult to understand, and more than anything, she couldn’t stop thinking about the people he had been spending his time with over the past two months.
She had never personally spoken to them, nor had she ever witnessed them committing any wrongdoing, but their reputation throughout the academy was anything but favorable.
To most students, they were nothing more than a gathering of noble delinquents who skipped classes, smoked behind the academy buildings, and spent their days idling around instead of pursuing the futures expected of them.
Whether those rumors were true or merely the result of prejudice, Elise had no way of knowing.
But even so, the image they projected was enough to leave her with an uneasy feeling, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether Ilya had gradually been pulled into that lifestyle without even realizing it.
In the end, however, there was little she could do besides push those thoughts aside and focus on the class before her.
By the time the lecture concluded, Elise had already returned to her usual self.
Gathering her belongings, she stepped out of the classroom alongside the friends she naturally gravitated toward, soon joined by several other students she had gotten to know since enrolling at the academy.
Between her family’s status, her approachable personality, and her exceptional talent within the Magic Department, it was only natural that she had become one of the more recognizable first-year students on campus.
As they rounded a sharp corner, Elise suddenly bumped into Siegfried’s back, nearly losing her balance from how abruptly he had come to a stop.
"Sieg?"
"Shh."
Siegfried raised a finger to his lips without taking his eyes off the corridor ahead.
His expression had lost its usual easygoing demeanor as he carefully peeked around the corner.
Noticing the change in his attitude, the others instinctively fell silent and cautiously leaned over one by one to see what had caught his attention.
On the other side of the corridor stood five young men.
Two of them faced the remaining three without backing down, and although no weapons had yet been drawn, the atmosphere between the two groups was clearly hostile.
It was the sort of atmosphere only moments before a fight, where everyone was waiting for someone else to make the first move.
Judging by the expressions on their faces, that moment was rapidly approaching.
"Hey... shouldn’t we stop them before this gets out of hand?" one of the students whispered.
Siegfried shook his head without looking away.
"It’s Ilya," he said. "I’ve heard all the rumors about him recently, so I’m curious to see what he’ll do. I still can’t reconcile the Ilya I remember from years ago with the one everyone at the academy keeps talking about now."
"Eh?"
Elise narrowed her eyes and looked more carefully toward the group gathered at the end of the corridor.
Sure enough, standing among the two facing down the three noblemen was Ilya himself.
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