Chapter 59
Fran Ziger and Garter Trevor also fell deep into thought as they watched the approaching Academy cadets.
Moldi wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure to act.
Both families had served the Triell House loyally for generations.
Which, of course, meant they had once pledged allegiance to the former Duke of Triell, Derman Triell.
Fortunately, their houses hadn’t been completely driven out like other factions of Duke Derman, thanks to their considerable influence. Still, it was undeniable—they had fallen out of Duke Roze ’s favor.
‘Hmm… Ziger and Trevor, was it?’
They remembered the look Duke Roze had given their family heads.
Should I kill them, or let them live?
He hadn’t said it out loud, but everyone present could read Duke Roze ’s thoughts clearly.
The ignorant said: Triell is no longer the Triell it once was.
That it’s now nothing more than a toothless tiger.
After all, the Imperial Assembly, which once let Derman Triell rule as the Empire’s second-in-command, was no more.
And the sharpest blade of Duke Derman had not been inherited by Duke Roze .
Some even dared to approach the Ziger and Trevor families, suggesting they form a new faction altogether.
‘Idiots.’
It was not the Assembly Chair that made one a Duke. It was because he was a Duke that he could be Chair.
Even without the Assembly, Roze Triell was still a Duke.
Everything surrounding the central province’s systems was within Triell’s reach. The merchant guilds under their control alone could crush a handful of noble houses like ants.
And as for military power?
Perhaps they couldn’t compare to other provincial lords—but at the very least, they could easily crush Ziger and Trevor should they wish.
If His Majesty the Emperor had turned against Triell, things might be different. But from the way Duke Roze still freely moved in and out of the Imperial Palace, it clearly wasn’t the case.
Which meant, for the Ziger and Trevor families, getting back into Duke Roze ’s good graces was imperative.
So they came up with a plan—the Academy cadets.
Unlike the sword-obsessed Fael family, the backward easterners, the westerners who couldn’t tell a banquet from a war council, or the downright moronic southerners—cultured central nobles considered it second nature to keep their ears to the ground when it came to society news.
And recently, a particularly interesting rumor had started to spread.
A survivor of the Academy, Moldi Piet, was reportedly rallying the other survivors.
Moldi Piet.
The name rang a bell.
The Piet family wasn’t a minor house, and they had sent their firstborn to the Academy.
Before that, he had been dismissed as a dullard—a legitimate heir who had almost lost his position to his younger sibling due to sheer incompetence.
‘Who knew he had this kind of talent?’
The Academy survivors, left adrift when the Academy was attacked and forced to close—
The Empire’s most talented commoners.
Gifted individuals who had received high-level education but were now without backing or affiliation.
Some believed that since the Academy had been founded by the Emperor himself, these survivors were under His Majesty’s protection. But if the Emperor truly still cared about them, nobles agreed, he would’ve taken action already.
His Majesty was, after all, a man of swift action.
Which made it reasonable to conclude that the Emperor’s attention had shifted elsewhere.
In that case, it was time for others to make their move.
Moldi Piet might not know it yet, but the Academy would rise again.
This time, on a far grander scale—not just for commoners and lesser nobles, but aimed at the elite of the Empire and the entire continent.
Whether or not commoners would be accepted again, no one knew. But one thing was certain:
Although no official announcement had been made, the plans weren’t exactly a secret, and information about it was easy enough to find.
So then—what of the original Academy survivors?
They, too, would become part of the new Academy.
That was the conclusion the senior members of the Ziger and Trevor houses had come to after much discussion.
‘Young master, the future of the continent will be led by Academy graduates.’
The elders had all agreed: the Academy alumni would hold all key positions in the continent’s future.
If the Emperor, who dreams of unifying the continent, was now focusing his efforts on the Academy instead of war, what could that possibly mean?
It meant this was his method of integration—his grand strategy for unification.
Which made the current cadets of the Academy not just gifted individuals, but the seeds of what would become the Academy’s future power blocs.
Some of them might grow to be so influential that even nobles would have to tread carefully.
So then…
What if they made contact now? Formed a faction under their name—and offered it to the Duke?
They could earn Duke Roze ’s favor once more.
They could return to the very heart of central power.
What about the Imperial Princess who was also at the Academy? Wouldn’t she simply absorb them all when she returned?
Fools.
If this had been the old Academy without factions, maybe. But in an Academy brimming with heirs from powerful families, how would it look if the Imperial Princess tried to claim a faction?
Once these survivors formed a true power bloc, she would no longer be able to approach.
Of all the praise sung about His Majesty the Emperor, mercy was never one of them.
Only nobles who couldn’t even imagine requesting favors from Princess Rael or the Emperor could’ve arrived at such a conclusion.
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‘Did those two eat something weird?’
Ziger and Trevor—even I knew those names.
They were prestigious families, among the most powerful of those who once followed Duke Derman.
Which meant they were high-ranking nobles in every sense of the word.
“Oh, you must be Vel? I’ve heard much about you from Lord Moldi—a brilliant gem of the Empire, I hear.”
“And you must be Rua! I heard you were taught by an Imperial Knight, yet had no trouble keeping up? Impressive! Truly a cadet of the Academy. I’m quite handy with a sword myself—how about a spar sometime?”
They were practically showering the commoner cadets with gold.
Even the cadets themselves looked stunned—and from the looks of it, so was Moldi, the one who’d invited them in the first place.
“Um, Lord Fran? Lord Garter?”
“Yes, Lord Moldi. Thank you for introducing such splendid individuals.”
“Heh, it’s nothing. I just didn’t expect Lord Fran to hold them in such high regard…”
Fran Ziger and Garter Trevor exchanged glances.
‘They don’t seem particularly close to Moldi…’
That meant they could proceed without involving the Piet family.
Having reached that silent conclusion, the two nobles took an even more proactive approach toward the cadets.
“Next time, allow me to host you at my estate. The Ziger mansion is rather grand—you’ll find it quite satisfying.”
“Oh yes, the Ziger estate is magnificent.”
“Um… That’s very kind of you, but you don’t have to…”
“Haha, of course, Lord Moldi’s estate is splendid as well. But I just thought I’d boast a little about mine. Naturally, you’re invited too.”
“… Yes. Thank you.”
“… Um, Lord Fran…?”
“Hmm? Vel, is something wrong?”
“Well… It’s an honor to meet you, of course. But… why are you being so kind to us?”
Vel, the daughter of a merchant house, knew exactly who Ziger and Trevor were.
Why would those two be showing such interest in cadets?
“Ah, that…”
Fran and Garter once again shared a look.
Should they bluff?
Fran raised his brows slightly, but Garter shook his head.
If these were ordinary commoners, perhaps. But these were Academy cadets.
They weren’t fools. A half-hearted lie wouldn’t pass unnoticed.
And this wasn’t a one-time exploitation—if they intended to share a future together, a certain level of honesty was required.
“I want you to like us.”
“Like us…?”
“The Academy will be rebuilt soon. Did you know?”
“Well, I’d heard it would be… rebuilt eventually. An Imperial official told us to wait until then…”
“It’s not far off. And the new Academy will be very different from the last.”
“Pardon? Lord Fran, that’s news to me…”
Ignoring Moldi’s hesitant objection, Fran continued.
“I believe you’ll thrive at the new Academy. This is an investment for the future.”
“To put it more bluntly,” Garter added, “we’re asking you to walk the same path with us.”
They were speaking freely at the Piet residence, leaving its heir completely out of the conversation—and neither noble seemed to care.
Of course, Moldi hadn’t been consulted about any of this, leaving him too flustered to speak, but no one paid him any mind.
“…It’s an honor, but we owe a great debt to His Majesty the Emperor. We must repay that.”
In other words—they couldn’t place themselves under the nobles’ command.
It was a gentle refusal, but Fran responded as if he had expected it.
“Well of course! We, too, are loyal to His Majesty. As subjects of the Empire, it’s only right. But what we’re offering… is simply a different way of showing that loyalty.”
“This isn’t public information yet, but the new Academy will accept not only Imperial nobility, but nobles—and perhaps royalty—from other nations as well. In a place like that, wouldn’t it be better for fellow Imperial citizens to support each other?”
“It’s not a bad offer for you either. To be frank, it won’t be easy to compete against the heirs of the most powerful houses on the continent. We’re simply offering our assistance.”
“We appreciate it, but the truth is…”
“If you’re relying on Her Highness the Princess,” Fran interrupted, cutting off Vel.
“She won’t be of help to you.”
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