Shortly after the fiery welcome, a gigantic parade of the Emperor took place throughout the entire city. He left the Academy grounds amid deafening cheers, and after a while, the students were finally led into the main building.
The interior of the Academy was also impressive - modern but not plain; rather, it was imposing and elegant. The corridors were adorned with chandeliers, yet screens were embedded in the walls here and there. The architect had probably tried to merge humanity's ancient history with the modernity of the Empire.
And he had succeeded remarkably well.
While the upperclassmen were already settling into their respective courses, all the new students were gathered into a gigantic lecture hall. The seats formed an ascending semicircle, with a large lectern at the front for the professors and a screen that covered the entire wall.
One by one, the new, excited students took their seats. Croy simply moved along and ended up sitting in the eleventh row, quite far against the wall of the lecture hall.
Unfortunately, he didn't recognize anyone nearby. It would have been impossible for him to remember all the new faces he had seen earlier in the square - except perhaps for the blonde girl with the terrifying mana.
'I can't see Inera anywhere either,' he thought.
"Hey, what are you looking for?" suddenly asked a voice beside him.
Croy turned and looked into the face of a boy who was probably about his age. The boy had a slightly tanned face and a wild mane of curls that gave him a carefree, almost mischievous appearance. Like Croy, he also wore a suit, but what really stood out was his radiant smile.
The boy's teeth looked so perfect that Croy was tempted to ask if they were even real.
"Nothing special," Croy finally replied, shrugging casually.
"I just wanted to see what kind of faces come to an academy like this."
The boy nodded, closed his eyes in an exaggeratedly satisfied gesture, and beamed even more.
"Ah, I see, you're like me."
Croy frowned.
"What do you mean?"
The boy gave him a meaningful look and whispered, "I'm on the lookout too... If you see them, you have to let me know. Then I'll strike as soon as an opening presents itself..."
Croy held his breath. An attack? He would never have expected that from a boy with such a friendly face.
The Academy was apparently more dangerous than he had anticipated. Everyone seemed disguised here, hidden behind civilian clothes, without the clear markings and ranks of the military that usually warned one of enemies and dangers.
He tensed up.
"Who are you targeting?" he whispered sharply, so that no one but the boy could hear him.
At the same time, he concentrated his mana - if it came to an emergency, he wanted to be prepared. Was this guy stronger than he was? He didn't know, but the thought of a hidden enemy kept him alert.
Then he paused. Why was this guy even telling him about his plans?
The boy suddenly puffed out his chest with pride and answered loudly, "Well, the Imperial Twins of course, who else!"
Croy's hand shot forward, grabbed the boy by the collar, and yanked him closer. Suddenly, the surrounding conversations fell silent, and some students turned to them in surprise, eyes wide.
"Who sent you?" hissed Croy, ready to cast a spell to stop the evil assassin, when the boy suddenly laughed.
"What are you talking about? Calm down, man! I'm talking about the Twins. There are two of them, you dimwit - you can grab one of them!"
He pushed Croy's hand away and grinned at him as if he'd just recognized a kindred spirit.
"I was wrong, buddy! You're even more eager than I am!"
Croy stared at him uncomprehendingly as realization slowly rose within him and sent a cold shiver down his spine.
"Wait... you mean-"
The boy grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously.
"I like you! That's exactly the ambition you need to be a true playboy! I'm Fredrik."
"Croy. No, wait, you're misunderstanding something-"
"Oh, come on, we'll conquer the hearts of these pretty maidens in no time!"
Fredrik beamed at him enthusiastically and said it so loudly that it echoed across the lecture hall.
'Oh no.'
Since a few curious glances had already been directed at them, even more heads now turned toward them, eyeing them with expressions ranging from disgust to amusement.
"Two perverts..." someone behind him whispered in disgust.
"We'd better stay away from them."
"What idiots," murmured another voice.
Croy felt the color drain from his face.
The thought of the Emperor's appearance - long live the Emperor - and the solemn atmosphere from earlier only made it worse. What kind of first impression was he making here?
Croy suddenly wanted to sink into a hole. No, he just wanted to be back at the front.
Fredrik, on the other hand, noticed nothing of the horrified and disgusted looks now directed at both of them and continued to grin at Croy.
"So, which one do you want to try first? Ah, but we'll probably have to wait a bit until we can roam freely."
With the speed of a trained soldier, Croy swiftly pressed Fredrik's hand over his grinning face and hissed, "Damn it, you're talking too loud! Because of you, everyone thinks-"
But at that moment, the door of the lecture hall opened, and the last remnants of the commotion subsided as all eyes turned forward.
In stepped unmistakably a professor. He was an older man, probably around seventy, with a dignified demeanor. Like the rector, he wore a robe in the colors red and white, but his seemed simpler, almost modest.
Another noticeable detail was the glasses.
'A pair of glasses?'
It was a simple pair of glasses, like those common decades ago. In a world full of modern corrective measures and healing spells, Croy had never expected to see someone at the Academy wearing glasses, let alone a professor who undoubtedly had the means for surgical correction.
The professor stepped before the students and clasped his hands behind his back. His voice was filled with an enthusiasm that was almost infectious.
"Ah, how wonderful youth is! You all look enchanting," he said with a broad, warm smile that gave him the role of a friendly teacher.
"But please," he added, directing his gaze directly toward Croy.
No, he was definitely looking at him, specifically.
"Keep the antics to a minimum. After all, you're here to learn, and only a few receive such an opportunity."
A few students began to laugh; others nodded approvingly and looked at Croy and Fredrik with smug, mocking glances.
For a moment, Croy seriously considered whether he could muster enough mana to blow up the entire lecture hall and then go into hiding. He glanced briefly at Fredrik.
'Just you wait.'
Unaware of Croy's inner turmoil, the professor continued speaking, his smile almost jovial.
"I am Professor Burton, responsible for general spellcasting knowledge in the first year. So you'll be seeing me more often. Ah, but maybe old age will catch up with me before you leave the Academy."
A soft laugh accompanied his words.
Then he turned back to the students and gave them a mischievous look.
"You're probably thinking now: 'The old man is nice, but when will he get to the point?' Well, I've already made my point. So, did any of you listen carefully?"
Silence spread as some students looked around in confusion. Croy, who had noticed the hidden hint, furrowed his brow. In the military, his superiors had often used similar wordplays and hidden hints to train the attention and perception of new recruits.
One student raised his hand - it was young Lord Jradan with the sharp chin. The professor nodded to him kindly.
"Speak."
The boy stood up and spoke loudly and clearly, "You said, 'leave the Academy' and not 'graduate from the Academy.'"
"Exactly! Good listening!" praised Professor Burton, and the young lord sat down again, satisfied.
The professor let his gaze wander over the rows, the warm smile giving way to a slightly challenging look.
"Many of you will leave this Academy - and not just because we throw you out, but because you want to. And I will make sure you want to."
He raised a hand, and a strange, almost devilish sparkle appeared in his eyes.
"Ghost dogs," he murmured.
At his fingertips, pale blue mana began to glow. Within a few moments, the glow formed into a small, lively dachshund made of pure mana. The dachshund wagged its tail excitedly, and Professor Burton lovingly stroked its head. Then, a small collar formed around the dogs neck.
"This, my dear students, is a spell," he said with a benevolent look.
"You should all be familiar with this; otherwise, you wouldn't be here. I concentrated my mana and cast a spell that I learned. You're all aware of that. However, what you don't yet know is where your personal limits lie."
The professor's friendly smile transformed into a challenging grin.
"I am a great advocate of practical learning, and so I was given the honorable task of organizing a little exploration of the campus for you."
With a slow gesture, he pointed to the mana dachshund.
"Here is your tour guide, Little Paw."
The dachshund barked brightly and excitedly.
"Little Paw here is just a construct of mana, but he will still guide you through the Academy grounds. However, he has a small peculiarity: he's quite shy."
Professor Burton grinned wider, and a soft murmur went through the room as the students slowly realized that this 'exploration' was hardly a harmless introduction.
"But don't worry!" the professor continued.
"There isn't just one Little Paw; dozens of them are waiting all over the campus to be found and petted by you."
Some students were already looking determined, and Croy felt the tension within him ease a bit.
'A team game.'
They were supposed to find the ghost dogs and probably work together in small groups. Croy had often done similar exercises at the beginning of new missions with his team. He knew the drill and felt a slight sense of relief. But Professor Burton wasn't finished yet.
"But after being petted twice, Little Paw will disappear. Including this one, there are seventy-five of them, just as many as I have years under my belt. Funny, isn't it?"
He laughed at his own joke and let the words sink in.
Something didn't add up. Twice seventy-five was one hundred and fifty - but there were far more students in the hall.
'How is that supposed to promote teamwork if not everyone can achieve the same goal?'
"What happens if a student can't pet a ghost dog?" asked a voice from the crowd.
Professor Burton gently placed his own ghost dog on the floor, and the little dachshund scurried toward the door, tail wagging. The professor spoke in an overly friendly voice.
"The fifty students who couldn't pet Little Paw will be so sad that they'll all be expelled. Well then, have fun."
For a moment, the hall was dead silent. Breaths caught, heads turned.
Two silver-haired girls were the first to jump up, followed by Lord Jradan and other figures who dashed through the doors like lightning.
Then, without any warning, the calm exploded into pure hysteria.
Students leaped from their seats, the first chairs were knocked over, bags flew, and the exits filled with a surging mass of panicked students.
"It's already started!" someone shouted, and the hall finally descended into chaos.
Croy remained unmoved, but he didn't entirely escape the onslaught. A particularly sharp elbow hit him on the back of the head, and as he looked around, he saw only blurred movements - legs and arms rushing past him in wild haste.
As the storm subsided and the last figures disappeared through the door, he looked forward and saw that only four people remained: the professor, a girl with an unruffled, almost amused attitude, and, for some reason, also Fredrik that bastard.
Of the girl, Croy only saw the back of her head - her auburn hair. Fredrik looked at Croy expectantly. The professor examined the remaining students.
"Have you already given up?" he asked amusedly.
The girl in front of Croy shook her head.
"Excuse my harsh words, Professor, but the whole thing is hardly a challenge. Why should I hurry?"
Her voice was filled with confidence.
The professor regarded her with a raised eyebrow.
"Ah! You are the young Lady Al'Kadutor! Well, how do you like the Empire so far?"
"For the most part, very impressive. Especially the Emperor. I understand why my father likes you Imperials."
"That is a very great compliment; I thank you," said the professor, nodding respectfully.
'Kadutor? As in the Kadutor Kingdom? Is she one of the exchange students? The princess of Kadutor, are you serious?' Croy thought.
"But unfortunately," the apparently young princess continued, "I had hoped for more at the Academy."
The professor chuckled.
"Well, I'm sure you'll be extremely surprised yet."
"We'll see."
With these words, she finally stood up. She shot a brief glance at Croy and Fredrik. Her auburn hair was styled into full bangs, and she had delightful red lips. But her gaze was bored.
Suddenly, wrinkles formed on her forehead as she looked at Croy.
"The perverts?"
"Damn it, Fredrik, I'm going to rip your head off!"