I now knew that if I answered, As the prince, I can't just stand by and watch a student of the Academy suffer, Teron Meyer's brow would furrow at once.
I've treated you as nothing more than an obligation for years, but now I'm genuinely worried about you, was so revolting that I couldn't stand to hear it come out of my own mouth.
Teron spoke.
“Then hand down your punishment to Your Highness's dearest friend first.”
“...Lloyd?”
“Yes. I have to listen to his insults every single day without fail, so if he alone were to vanish, I couldn't be happier.”
“...Right. I'll do that.”
When Leopold answered gloomily, Teron paused. Leopold could feel him staring intently.
Thinking he might have something to say, Leopold met his eyes, and Teron sighed.
“No... Stop doing pointless things and just sit still. Use that time to cure your justice sickness instead.”
“Justice sickness. That's a bit harsh.”
“I don't know what's suddenly gotten into you, but the only word for it is ridiculous. Quit the hypocrisy and do your own job.”
“Hypocrisy. Right... hypocrisy.”
His mouth tasted bitter. At sixteen, Leopold couldn't even keep one academy under control. Behaving no differently from those wretched people, yet vowing to live a life unlike his father's. When would he ever stop being a fool?
“I suppose so.”
Leopold smiled faintly.
“You're right, Teron.”
Edmund Rapel and Theo Brante, suspended. Milo Bilrn, campus service.
Student council president Leopold Deluah's shocking punishments spread through the Academy in an instant, from the first-years all the way to the fifth-years.
The reason: insulting a fellow student.
The real reason: insulting the royal family.
And one more clear reason. Insulting Teron Meyer.
The students weren't stupid enough to miss that fact.
Leopold Deluah had gone all out and handed down heavy punishments because of that repulsive Teron!
Pick a fight with Teron even once, and you'd become a laughingstock among the nobles in a heartbeat!
The rumor spread rapidly.
At first, everyone was puzzled.
Picking on Teron was an entirely natural, everyday act.
Why had they been disciplined when they'd done nothing wrong?
Had it really come to that over a single insult to Teron Meyer?
But Leopold went around punishing students who badmouthed Teron, not out of obligation but with genuine feeling. It didn't matter what year they were in or what rank they held; he didn't care in the slightest.
The stated cause was always disrespect toward the royal family, but you can't cover the sky with the palm of your hand.
After that, a total of ten students at the Academy were suspended, high society was thrown into an uproar, and everyone witnessed the noble houses and the royal palace locking horns in a full-blown power struggle. Only then did everyone at the Royal Academy realize.
Teron was no longer the repulsive, filthy pest of the Academy. He was a boy under the firm protection of the First Prince.
Only then did some students begin to recognize Teron Meyer as a person. Until now the Academy had held only people who didn't want to exchange a single word with Teron or who treated him as an outlet for their frustrations, but a new category had appeared.
Teron also kept up his swordsmanship practice with Leopold throughout the semester.
By now, Teron was the one giving Leopold orders.
No matter how hard he pondered it, that legend describing the sword master could only be thought of as magic.
White magic that was like black magic. Was such a thing even possible?
White magic was created only by calculating formulas and drawing magic circles. With white magic, you couldn't freely move mana outside the body. And yet, how?
Teron dove straight into experiments. Using Leopold as the subject. At first he told Leopold to sense the mana, and when Leopold couldn't understand at all, he even tried teaching him how to layer a magic circle over the sword.
There was no progress, but Teron didn't give up, struggling several times a day to make Leopold aware of the mana that had to exist inside his body. Leopold didn't really grasp why they were doing this, but he did as Teron asked to a surprising degree. It was a stroke of luck.
And so autumn passed and the year's end drew steadily nearer. One day, after all their classes had ended, they were out on the field carrying wooden swords, up to their usual antics.
Teron Meyer had temporarily halted development of the massive magic circle and was pouring his heart into realizing a highly effective illusion spell. With his level of skill, sparring against Leopold was simply out of the question.
He'd cast the illusion spell on Leopold and keep controlling it, conjuring imaginary enemies for him.
Then Leopold would fight the imaginary enemies and strain to draw out the mana inside his body.
Once again, it had no effect. But the illusion spell brought immense satisfaction to Leopold, who no longer had any opponents left to fight.
He wiped away the sweat and shook his head. His expression was bright.
“I still don't really get what you mean, honestly. I kept focusing on my dantian the whole time I swung my sword, trying to push the mana out of my body. It still doesn't work.”
“...I see.”
Teron was sitting slumped on the floor of the training ground. He snapped shut the book he'd been reading and gave a nod.
“The young lord is coming.”
“Leo, what've you been doing all this time? Let's go!”
It was dinnertime. Leopold nodded at Lloyd, who had approached, then spoke to the black-haired boy.
“Want to come with us?”
“Are you insane?”
“Are you insane?”
Two answers came at once. Though they were dorm roommates, the two who had cut off all conversation simply stared at each other.
Lloyd spoke in a displeased tone.
“Who do you think you are, using that arrogant tone? Show His Highness some respect, like a commoner should.”
“Young lord, if you don't want to actually sit face-to-face and eat with me, then shut your mouth this instant and get lost.”
“You really are hopeless. Leopold coddles you, so now you think the whole world belongs to you?”
The First Prince tried to cut in, but Teron's sneer came first.
“Don't come whining to me like a child who got his friend stolen away.”
“What did you just say? A commoner scum lower than a worm, not even able to tell what he can and can't say-”
“Aren't you ashamed, young lord, turning red in the face over a single commoner? If it were me, I'd be too mortified to even lift my head.”
“You, you damned-!”
Leopold dragged Lloyd off, hauling him away from the sparring ground.
Teron lay back down, satisfied.
If there was one thing most irritating about these peaceful days, it was that he was sharing a room with Lloyd van Acker.
Lloyd Acker hadn't originally been this kind of person. At least, not as far as Teron knew.
In his past life, the man had been a cold principlist. He hadn't spoken so viciously, nor had he been anywhere near this emotional.
Around this time in his past life, Teron Meyer had been thoroughly cowed. He'd only ever taken abuse without paying it back. That must have been why he hadn't known.
Lloyd was terribly childish. Even Leopold had at first been startled at how much more of a kid he was than expected, but Lloyd was worse. Losing control over his emotions and erupting in anger at a single word from Teron was an everyday occurrence.
And unfortunately, thanks to the First Prince, the two of them crossed paths often these days.
Leopold took Teron's side unconditionally in every situation.
It took no time at all for Lloyd to go mad.
On top of that, they were roommates.
Every time Leopold got angry at Lloyd, every time Teron and Leopold were together, every time Teron Meyer stuck his unwelcome face into the dorm room, their relationship slowly deteriorated.
If Teron happened to wake up at the same time as Lloyd in the morning by accident, they'd immediately avoid each other, neither waiting for the other to move first. Sometimes small curses drifted over from Lloyd's side.
And that was hardly the end of it. Whenever Teron happened to be with Leopold, Lloyd would grind his teeth and drop his gaze.
He raged so fiercely that you might have imagined his neatly combed brown hair turning bright red.
“Get out of my sight right now, Teron Meyer.”
That was the voice that greeted Teron a few days later when he opened the dorm room door to grab his books after class.
Lloyd had his head buried in the bed, muttering.
“Don't show me that filthy face. Get lost.”
Without a word, Teron gathered up his books.
Lloyd had been like this ever since summer vacation ended, or, to be exact, ever since Leopold began his hypocrisy and pathetic posturing in earnest.
