Meanwhile, after the graduation speech ended, thunderous applause erupted, almost deafening.
Clap, clap, clap.
As the clapping faded, the freshmen began murmuring amongst themselves.
“Apparently, the only ones to have ever graduated early were Headmaster Albrecht and Professor Mackerman…!”
“Even they graduated early during their fifth year, right?”
“So this record’s been broken?”
“Graduating in the fourth year? That must be it.”
“I’ve heard even eighth-year students sometimes fail their graduation exams. They say it’s insanely hard…”
“But wasn’t her speech amazing too?”
The young freshmen continued to chatter about the early graduate.
Standing in front of them, Lennox stared blankly at the podium where she had stood. His cheeks had unknowingly turned red.
She shone—confidently and proudly delivering her speech.
To him, she looked like the sun itself.
While still caught up in the moment, one realization made his lips flatten into a straight line.
“…If she graduated, then I won’t be seeing her at the academy anymore?”
Until graduation, no one was allowed to leave the academy.
That was because the Marquess of Skylor had instructed him to stay in the dormitory even during breaks for safety reasons.
“It’s not like Clemence is going to come find me first…”
Which meant—there was no way for them to meet.
Just then, Lennox’s green eyes, which had darkened with disappointment at what he overheard, suddenly sparkled with a flash of realization.
“I wanna graduate early too, just like her~!”
Early graduation!
There was a way.
Though he might not get to see her for a while, maybe that was for the best. If he wanted to be worthy of being her friend, he needed to become just as excellent.
Friend…
At that moment, Melin’s voice came to mind—the one that had asked to be friends.
If a “friend” meant someone like Melin…
Then with Clemence Jacqueline, he selfishly wanted to be something more than just a friend.
Then… what should I say?
As Lennox fell silent, the students behind him tilted their heads.
“By the way, what’s with that cat?”
At the end of their gaze was a small white kitten, strolling around nonchalantly.
“Dunno, maybe the academy keeps it as a pet?”
The kitten purred, rubbing itself as if asking to be petted. Freshmen and graduates alike cooed and gently stroked it.
Ugh, I’m seriously going to faint…
Meanwhile, Mion was dizzy from the wave of incoming thoughts from the students.
Before coming here, he recalled a conversation with Clemence.
“The students are still too young to put up walls around small animals. That means this place is a sea of information for us.”
When Clemence ordered him to gather intel, Mion’s irritation flared.
“What? You want me to act all cutesy just for that?”
“Why not? It’s better than living at Penelope Fortress, isn’t it?”
“You demon!”
“If you cooperate, I’ll make sure that no one can forcefully take you—even when you’re fully grown.”
“…What?”
“That ‘no one’ includes Penelope too.”
The real reason Mion rarely ventured outside was the fear of being discovered by the Penelope bastards.
But curiously, shortly after arriving at Count Jacqueline’s estate, the pursuers vanished.
Having read Agathe’s memory, Mion realized the matter had been dealt with by the witch.
Apparently, right after bringing him home, the witch had leaked false information claiming that a white tiger divine beast (presumably Mion) had boarded a ship to another country.
Penelope took the bait and began searching overseas.
Gotta admit—when it comes to cunning, she’s got a real talent.
Mion acknowledged that. Clemence was, without a doubt, the most scheming human he’d ever encountered.
And strangely, her promise to keep Penelope from taking him made him want to believe her.
That means I’ll get to stay by Melin’s side, right?
With that in mind, Mion faithfully played the role of a sweet baby kitten, gathering information.
But then—a horrifying fragment of memory pierced through his body.
Startled, Mion instinctively looked at the boy who had just petted him.
The snow-white, doll-like boy had an inexplicably chilling air.
And the memories he carried were horrific.
Lennox Euclid.
What on earth has that boy been through? I want nothing to do with him.
⋆⋆⋆
The academy’s entrance and graduation ceremonies had fully wrapped up.
“Ugh, so all that trouble… just for this miserly sum?”
In the headmaster’s office, stood a scrooge in disguise. Clemence had no choice but to swallow her fury at the meager “encouragement payment” that was anything but generous.
“Never trust a professor again…!”
It reminded her of the meager pay she got as a grad student back in the day—bitingly nostalgic.
Too drained to even curse, she returned to the Count’s estate, where good news awaited.
A letter—not just any letter, but a classified document—from Duke Dinero had arrived.
Amendment to the Ban on Private Use of Mana Ore
The moment she read the first line, her eyes sparkled as she quickly scanned through the content.
The law had been revised: now mana ore could be used not just in the magic towers, but also in industrial technology.
“Power really is everything.”
The Council of Elders had a rule: once a year, the emperor could pass a law unilaterally—without full noble consent.
It seemed Duke Dinero had successfully lobbied the emperor.
“There’s nothing more dependable than a talented miser on your side.”
Even Clemence, who had no interest in power, couldn’t deny the sweetness of this indirect taste of it.
“Now I get why people go crazy for power.”
She could now openly run a business using mana ore without tiptoeing around.
Time to officially launch the operation.
“To expand a business, the first step is securing funding.”
Clemence knew exactly who, around this time, would be in desperate need of a deal with her company.
With no hesitation, her pen flew as she drafted a letter to the person who’d become her financier.
⋆⋆⋆
Late at night, the northernmost Jackal Strait was infamous for its brutal weather.
Even in late spring, bitter snowstorms raged outside the outdoor command tent, where the admiral and his troops held a military meeting under the dim glow of lanterns.
“How long would it take to move troops through this strait?”
“A-At least a week, sir.”
“Then it’s hopeless. The enemy will have set up camp and be waiting by then.”
Admiral Hermann furrowed his brows and bit down on his cigarette.
With the war dragging on, even supply deliveries had slowed, leaving their forces operating at half-strength.
Winter especially was a battle for supplies, as maintaining body heat required immense energy.
In every way, it was a brutal location.
“…Any other transport options?”
“There’s Walter Transport and Tara Transport, sir!”
“Which is faster?”
“Recently, Tara Transport implemented technology using mana ore. It’s now twice—no, three times faster than before.”
“…”
Hermann silently puffed on his cigarette. Naval warfare was a game of speed—who could seize advantageous waters first and fortify their position.
A subordinate hesitantly spoke up.
“Admiral, should we contact Tara Transport?”
“But… Duke Dinero owns it. His relationship with the Imperial family isn’t exactly smooth…”
Voices full of concern murmured around the tent.
The navy traditionally used Ben Transport, run by Count Bentley. But lately, the Bentley family had withdrawn from business, and their ship technology had stagnated.
“At this rate, we’re going to lose.”
Long wars meant dwindling manpower—and eventually, it became a battle of technology.
Who could transport troops and supplies faster? That decided the outcome.
Just then, the communications officer shouted:
“A letter from Tara Transport has arrived!”
The timing was uncanny.
The admiral was surprised, but dismissed it as coincidence.
“Open it.”
“It’s a proposal asking if we’re willing to use Tara’s ships for naval combat!”
The admiral fell silent, removing his cigarette and tapping the ash into a tray. Slowly, he spoke:
“Brief me on Tara Transport.”
A military aide began the briefing.
“They recently merged with Claim Transport and…”
Most of it was performance and business data.
“—That concludes the report.”
It was a short briefing, but every soldier in the tent shared the same thought:
“Tara Transport is our only lifeline!”
“But will the Imperial family approve this?”
“And what about Duke Dinero?”
Amidst their uneasy glances, the admiral spoke.
“Contact Tara Transport.”
“…Yes, sir.”
