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The Philion Academy has such a long and prestigious history that one must trace back to the time of the Empire’s establishment to appreciate it fully.

Even the very name “Philion” was derived from the name of the Empire’s founding emperor, making it hard to find an educational institution of such scale throughout the Empire and the continent as a whole, both in terms of history and educational standards.

Naturally, the position of headmaster at Philion Academy isn’t something just anyone can attain. Heinkel took great pride in the position he held.

Having dedicated himself to education for over 30 years, it has now been 10 years since he took on the esteemed title of headmaster. Even someone who could confidently say he had experienced numerous challenges to reach this point found himself stumped by the contents of the materials he was currently reading.

The new student list for Philion Academy this year.

Third Princess of the Empire, Elizabeth von Galatea.

Granddaughter of the Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army, Marian von Kalstein.

Descendant of the Sword Saint, Gwen Tris.

Youngest disciple of the Mage Tower’s master, Osnia Hebring.

Firstborn of the Imperial Chancellor, Schurz von Valier.

Just glancing over the names was enough to give him a headache. However, if the enrolled students were all local citizens of the Empire, the experienced educator Heinkel wouldn’t have been in such a quandary. The problem lay with the next set of names.

First Prince of the Al Kamil Kingdom, Saladin al Kamil.

Descendant of the Great Warrior of the Plains, Batar Kun.

Elf Princess of the Great Forest, Titania El Ilendrin.

From heathens to foreign ethnicities, even subhumans, what on earth would happen with so many different kinds gathered in one place? The sheer number of potential issues was overwhelming.

Sending the heirs of other nations and ethnic groups to the Empire could easily be perceived as taking hostages, which made the matter incredibly complex and sensitive.

If it hadn’t been for the Empire’s overwhelming dominance after the last great war, and the pervasive mood of peace across the continent, such important figures wouldn’t be enrolling at the academy all at once.

While many were pleased that future talents to lead the continent were gathering in one place to foster friendships and connections for the sake of future peace, from the perspective of the headmaster who was left holding the bomb, it was truly a death sentence.

To Heinkel, this list looked nothing more than a roster of ticking time bombs.

“What am I supposed to do with this…?”

Since enrollment was already a settled matter, there was no way to turn back now. No matter how hard he stared, the contents of the paper wouldn’t change, and as he rubbed his snowy white beard, he sighed deeply in place. At that moment, a bird suddenly flew through the open window of the headmaster’s office and dropped a letter onto his desk.

It was a Zegler, a small spirit frequently used for correspondence throughout the Empire. With its entirely black feathers and a single red feather sticking up from its forehead, it looked extremely familiar. Sure enough, upon checking the letter that the Zegler had brought, it turned out to be a missive from an old friend of Heinkel’s.

Heinkel was now deeply immersed in education, but he had once served on the battlefield as a battle mage in his youth.

The name of his comrade, who had survived life-and-death situations together with him on the battlefield with overflowing youthful bloodlust, was none other than Calvard von Kalstein. At the time, he was just the young lord of Kalstein and now the Kalstein Marquis.

Although their paths diverged into the military and the academy due to differing ambitions, their arduous bond had persisted even after all these decades. Therefore, it wasn’t unusual to receive letters from his old comrade. He figured that this time, he probably wanted to send greetings since his precious granddaughter was enrolling.

Heinkel clicked his tongue, wondering what kind of granddaughter bragging would be included in the letter. However, the contents were not what he expected.

“Hmm?”

Inside the letter was documentation regarding the reassignment of a particular soldier. At first glance, it seemed inconsequential, but the moment he confirmed the name written on the document, Heinkel’s failing eyesight suddenly sharpened.

“Oh, no… Ion? Ion Graham?!”

Those six characters were a name that no ruler of the Empire could possibly miss. More famous for his frightening nickname than his birth name, he was one of the Seven Legendary Heroes of the continent, revered by all citizens after the war.

His eyes nearly spinning from the unexpected name, Heinkel shot up from his seat. He stood up, looked around, turned it over, and checked it from every angle… Just moments ago, he had hoped the name would change, and now he desperately wished it wouldn’t.

No matter how many times he stared at it, the contents of the paper remained unchanged. As a result, the minor request included in the letter from the Kalstein Marquis was completely lost on Heinkel.

“Has this old man finally lost his mind… Sending that troublemaker here? Why on earth?”

He had no clue about the Marquis’ intentions, but for Heinkel, it was unexpectedly good news. Just as he was planning on ramping up the faculty and security staff because of the troublesome list of new students, such a talent had just rolled right into the academy!

He felt bad for his old comrade, but since he had let him go once, there was no intent to return him. The name Ion Graham, a Seven Legendary Hero of the continent, was a prize he had to hold on to at all costs.

Then, a groundbreaking idea popped into Heinkel’s mind about how to deal with that troublesome list of new students.

When uncertain about how to go about things, gathering them all in one place could be one possible solution.

*

The Capital City of Sangria.

With a population of one million, the capital of the Empire boasts a rich history. Divided into 25 autonomous districts, each substantial enough to be considered a small city, it stands as the largest metropolis in the Galatea Empire.

Most of the roads and buildings are paved with pristine white marble, showcasing the city’s grandeur during the day, and at night, the magical lights illuminate the entire city, displaying a dazzling vibrancy. Known as the “City of Light” because it never goes dark, Sangria is indeed remarkable.

…This was a fact one couldn’t possibly miss, given how proudly the coachman kept chattering about it on the way.

“Now, we’re almost there! Do you see that? The city right before your eyes is the Capital City of Sangria!”

The remarkably talkative and amiable coachman pointed toward the distant city with his finger. I lifted the brim of my military cap and peeked out to check the scenery.

Indeed, the name of the city wasn’t without merit; even from a considerable distance, the white marble city walls were clearly visible. Along with me, the farmers, traders, and mercenaries accompanying the cargo cart all gasped in awe at the majestic view.

I silently admired the approaching city as I withdrew my gaze. Then the coachman, with a sly tone, spoke up.

“I take it this isn’t your first time in the city?”

I shook my head while still keeping the cap firmly on my head.

“No, it’s my first time.”

“Oh, really? Anyone who sees the city for the first time usually reacts like that, so I thought you must have visited often.”

The coachman was referring to the other passengers on the cargo cart. They were beaming with dreams as they gazed at the splendid walls of the capital, filled with aspirations of finding new business partners and striking it rich with great commissions upon entering the city…

Dressed in tattered, shabby clothes, they shared hopeful tales as if everything would be solved just by stepping foot into Sangria.

“The Sangria dream, huh?”

The coachman muttered to himself, so softly that only I could hear.

“The Sangria dream?”

“After the war, the vast spoils of war flooded into the Empire. Since then, people like these have never ceased to come. They see the capital as a land of opportunity… It’s not entirely wrong. The problem is that those opportunities aren’t equal for everyone.”

The coachman’s voice seemed oddly gruff. It was a stark contrast to his earlier friendly demeanor when sharing news about the capital.

“Why have you come to the city, guest? You certainly look like a soldier… did you come to see family after a long time?”

I didn’t answer the coachman’s question but crossed my arms and lowered my head. I was simply too annoyed to respond to personal queries, and with the warm sunlight and cool air, it was indeed a perfect day for a nap.

“What a taciturn guest.”

With no response from me, the coachman clicked his tongue and resumed his silence. That was a relief for me. There was no need for some stranger to initiate conversation; thanks to the coachman, distant memories I hadn’t thought of in a long time came rushing back.

Remembering the question about seeing family brought someone’s face to mind. The visage of a girl who had left my side in pursuit of dreams instead of fulfilling our childhood promise.

Skin as white as snow, not commonly seen in rural villages. Delicate features. Glossy golden hair. Eyes as blue as the sea, though she had never seen the ocean. Occasionally displaying a bored expression, yet whenever she looked my way, she would beam with a bright, sunny smile.

In the past, recalling that face had caused my heart to ache like being squeezed.

Now, even when I thought of Ella, I felt nothing at all.

 

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