How to Survive at the Academy

Spring’s Call (2)

The regular faculty meeting was a formal and significant occasion, distinguished from the usual, routine faculty meetings. While the number of attendees was not much different from the regular faculty meetings, the caliber of participants was a step higher.

Whereas regular faculty meetings were gatherings where full professors, associate professors, and academic staff all came together to discuss practical matters, regular meetings were more focused on deciding macro-level operational directions. Above all, the most significant difference was that Headmaster Obel Forcius presided over these meetings himself.

The meeting was a venue for checking on the progress of various academic departments, exchanging situations that needed review regarding student education and management, and making direct decisions on important matters.

In reality, for veteran professors and management-level professors, these meetings were an opportunity to prove their competencies, so even the most experienced faculty members prepared thoroughly.

The winter vacation was reaching its end. Right now, with no spare moment in preparation for the upcoming semester, through the regular meeting, it was crucial to confirm the direction and policy of academic education.

As such, this meeting was reserved for those at least at the rank of mentor or emeritus professor…

It was unnatural for anyone to see Assistant Professor Claire Elfin mixed in among the meeting attendees.

“The results of the recent class assignment tests are as follows.”

Dean McDowell was in the midst of presenting the overall test results to Headmaster Obel.

Obel browsed through the class allocation results for each department and briefly tilted his head in confusion.

“This year’s Magic Department has… no students in Class A…? Who was in charge of the exams… Assistant Professor Claire, I see…”

Claire, who had been trying to blend in inconspicuously, trembled and her shoulders shook when Obel called her by name.

By rights, she was not supposed to be attending such a meeting, but she was there as a special representative for Professor Glast, and thus had no choice.

She had intended to quietly shrink away amidst the meeting seats filled with emeritus professors, never expecting her name to be called.

“Was she not said to be a protégée of Professor Glast? My expectations are quite high.”

“Th-thank you…”

“I have no intention of meddling in the strict criteria used to select students, but I did not expect that not a single A-class student would be chosen.”

The emeritus professors were diligently scanning the distributed reports. Claire had not anticipated attracting so much attention.

Glast, her predecessor, had notoriously strict standards for A-class students, and there had been years when no A-class students were chosen, so she thought it wouldn’t really matter.

“From the standpoint of a principal, I feel the need to check the reasons behind this and consider them. Whether the level of incoming freshmen in the Magic Department is purely that low, or if more stringent conditions were requested… I must be aware of such matters.”

“That is…”

“Judging by the exam content… you had them compete against upperclassmen, correct?”

Attention was drawn…

Headmaster Obel’s eyes moved from side to side as he began to analyze Claire’s hastily prepared exam report.

“Hmm…”

“Oh my…”

“What?! The top combat student of the second-year pre-nursery…?”

The reactions of the emeritus professors, who were also reading the documents, varied.

The exam content was subject to interpretation, depending on who was reading it.

In particular, making students face off against Clevius Nortondale, the combat department’s top student from the upcoming second-year, was seen by many to be too harsh.

“Some of those upperclassmen appear to be fairly competent… Perhaps the challenge given to the freshmen was too severe…”

Wiping away her increasing perspiration in secrecy, Claire spoke with as much confidence as she could muster.

With a bright smile, she said, “I judged them to be fit for Class A… if they could handle this much.”

It was a hasty response, but faltering here would do no good. Assistant Professor Claire maintained as bold a front as possible.

Her bold demeanor prompted the emeritus professors to swallow dryly in response.

“Hmm… Yenika Faelover, Ed Rothtaylor, Anis Heilan, Clevius Nortondale…”

Reading through the list of Assistant Professor Claire’s research lab members, Headmaster Obel soon closed his eyes and nodded.

The perspiring emeritus professors deeply imprinted those names into their minds.

People who knew knew.

Even the professors who didn’t believe in superstitions had to gradually acknowledge Claire’s natural affinity for people. It was as if she had done something extraordinary in a past life.

Some even considered her seemingly naive demeanor to be a façade. She was innately capable of selecting and managing people.

Otherwise, it made no sense for all of the talents to flock to Assistant Professor Claire.

She had the world’s scholars as advisors, famous figures within her circle of friends, and her own mentees were nothing short of remarkable gems.

It was to the point where one might ask why heavens favored Claire so much, and so the emeritus professors began to keep a close watch on any new faces around her.

Anis, the top teaching assistant that all professors coveted, was a prime example.

The other newly emerged names were… still difficult to judge.

Just from the fact that Claire could sit in such a consequential meeting and assert her opinions with confidence, it was clear that she was not merely a naive individual.

The cunning hidden behind her innocent appearance… remains to be fully assessed. What exactly was she thinking inside?

‘I want a tart…’

Rubbing her hungry stomach, Assistant Professor Claire sat there without a single word, just enduring the moment.

“Anyway, the first-year class assignments are now finalized, and the lists of top students are confirmed… So we’re almost ready for the next semester,” Obel commented after going through the report outlining details not only of the new students but also the entire student body’s academic records.

Ahead of the student council elections, what mattered most in the present scenario was the list of top students.

Top combat student of the first-year: Wade Callamore Magic Department top: Joseph Whitepeltz Alchemy Department top: Claude Belarus Overall top: Wade Callamore

Top combat student of the second-year: Clevius Nortondale Magic Department top: Lucy Mayrill Alchemy Department top: Elvira Eniston Overall top: Lucy Mayrill

Top combat student of the third-year: Drake Lagers Magic Department top: Yenika Faelover Alchemy Department top: Atalante Overall top: Yenika Faelover

Top combat student of the fourth-year: Tyke Elfellan Magic Department top: Trissiana Bloomriver Alchemy Department top: Dorothy Whitepeltz Overall top: Tyke Elfellan

The top student of each department as decided by the different faculties and the student leaders from all faculties among these top students were the class leaders.

The success in the student council elections would largely depend on rallying the students from this top list.

The role of student council president at Sylvania Academy was significant.

Normally, it would be preposterous for a student representative to possess powers comparable to staff, but Sylvania Academy’s student structure was unique, not just end-stage talents gathered there. Nobles and influential family scions who wouldn’t dare squeak a protest, even including royalty and saintesses, were enrolled as students.

The student council president represents the voice of the student body.

With the backing of numerous students, the student council president could essentially exercise the authority vested in those students.

For a president supported by a triple-digit number of influential family scions… the academic body cannot afford to disregard their position.

Predecessor president Veros was non-radical, tended to maintain the status quo amicably, and the academy found it quite convenient during his two-year tenure. With his departure due to graduation, it now becomes critical who the next student council president will be.

“Have we grasped the tendencies of each class leader…?”

Obel initiated the discussion lightly.

The academy also needed to pre-emptively assess which student would be elected as the representative.

The surest way is to observe the inclinations of each class leader, who holds considerable sway in the student council elections.

Combat, Magic, Alchemy… The chief of each department often has the ability to shape public opinion within their year.

Even without raising their voice, most students respect the class leader’s opinion. There are exceptions, of course, but there is a definite tendency. In the case of the Alchemy Department, it’s an accepted tradition to simply follow the class leader’s opinion when uncertain.

Furthermore, surpassing just class leaders, reaching the rank of class leader means they essentially hold sway over the fate of student council elections.

Unless there’s an unusual dissenting voice… generally, opinions revolve around the class leader.

“I shall report the specifics separately.”

“Very good. Let’s move to the next agenda.”

Relieved that the focus has shifted away from her, Assistant Professor Claire finally exhaled. After all, standing in for Professor Glast was not an easy task.

“The next item is… the snowstorm again this year…”

It was a regularly recurring item on the agenda around this time each year. Due to climate conditions, Acken Island faced a week-long snowstorm just before spring arrived every year. The timing varied slightly, but the snowstorm never failed to visit annually.

Aligned with this period, it was necessary to restrict outdoor activities for students for a week and confine them to their dormitories, while also thoroughly checking the insulation and repair status of each dorm, and managing internal supplies.

Ophelius Hall was already well-prepared in terms of facilities and staffing. Paying more attention to the condition of Lortelle House and Dex House, Obel felt the sting of time rushing by. Realizing this was the last cold spell before spring, time seemed to fly.

* [ Name: Ed Rothtaylor ]

Gender: Male Age: 18 Grade: 3 Race: Human Achievements: Meticulous Survivalist (1 year) / High Elemental Summoner Physical Strength 13 Intelligence 13 Dexterity 15 Wisdom 12 Luck 11

[Combat Ability Detail]

[Magic Ability Detail]

[Living Skills Detail]

[Alchemy Skills Detail]

[ New Creation ]

Wooden Windbreak A well-maintained wooden panel bound several times over with rope and then buried at the junction in the ground.

It served to block drafts, but wouldn’t hold up against excessively strong winds.

Crafting Difficulty: ●◐○○○ At this stage of proficiency, even items of this caliber no longer contributed toward crafting skill improvement.

With a dexterity stat at 15, dramatic growth had plateau laying almost to a halt. A dexterity level of 15 meant that most projectile or craft-related skills would not stagnate due to insufficient dexterity.

To push toward dramatic growth, it seemed time to seek a different stimulus for improvement.

Unlike Taely, who could merely sit still while trials came crawling to him, it was time for me to pound the pavement in search of them.

“Sigh…”

I wiped my sweat and scrutinized the windbreak I had diligently installed.

Most items that had been outside the camp had been moved inside the hut.

The materials too cumbersome to be stored inside the hut were wrapped up with canvas and secured with several layers of rope, stored behind the windbreaker.

“Indeed, thorough preparation for strong winds seems prudent.”

Brushing off sweat and stretching my arms against the cabin wall, I heard a familiar voice from the fire.

Turning to look, the situation was immediately clear.

The intricately decorated maid uniform looked exceedingly tiresome at a glance.

Impeccably dressed without a wrinkle, Belle carried Lucy in her arms.

Swinging like dried fish on a drying rack, Lucy shuddered with fright – the maids of Ophelius Hall clearly not to her liking.

“You look well, that’s a relief. Young Master Ed.”

“Are you here for Lucy?”

“Snowstorms are on the horizon. The academy’s policy has been communicated. During the snowstorm, outside dormitory access is forbidden unless necessary. Personnel management will be stricter than usual as well.”

Hence why she had come to capture Lucy in advance.

While someone like Lucy is unfazed by storms or snowstorms, the rules are the rules. Getting dirty in such weather only pities the washing maids.

“As the one most likely to attempt escape… we must keep a strict watch. We plan to rotate watch staff for week-long shift duties.”

“Help… me…”

“…”

Belle’s thoroughness was commendable, even if somewhat reluctantly. Despite her apparent disdain, as a head maid, her management skills were unparalleled.

As rigid an environment as it may be for Lucy… the fact that she would be confined to Ophelius Hall for an entire week was not something I could alleviate.

As mentioned… rules are rules. To urge her to escape would be irresponsible, considering how much Lucy owes to the kind maids.

“Being in a management position facing the snowstorm must be a new experience for you. Surely, you have many concerns?”

“……Hmm.. Hmm… Hmm…”

“Would you continue with formal speech, please?”

“……To be honest, there’s not much to worry about. Ophelius Hall has excellent facilities, and generally, there are not many students who wander outside during the snowstorm season.”

“There shouldn’t be too many issues… as long as we keep a close eye on Miss Lucy’s escapades, there shouldn’t be any unexpected variables.”

Belle shifted the topic towards me while adjusting his hold on Lucy.

“In fact, if there’s any concern, it’s more about Master Ed. Can you endure a blizzard lasting a week in such conditions? No offense, but with just these windbreaks, it seems… it’ll be quite challenging.”

“Well, this setup is just to protect the supplies.”

Additionally, to prevent any adverse effects on the cabin, ropes were secured over the roof and tied tightly to the ground, and various traps were carefully stored inside the cabin.

“I have a separate place to take refuge during the blizzard, so there’s no need to worry too much.”

“With you saying that, I’ll try to worry less…”

I plan to spend the blizzard week entirely focused on magical engineering research in the Soul Library.

Being underground, it does feel a bit claustrophobic, and it’s not a place I’d want to stay long-term, but it’s necessary. All the required firewood has been moved there, and ventilation measures are in place, although it’s just making fires near openings.

It’s unfortunate that I can’t rely on Lucy’s magic, but I should be able to manage for a week.

I just hope the camp remains unharmed in my absence.

After completing an extensive training period in the library, the weather should have become quite mild, and I’ll have made significant progress in my magical engineering training.

It feels odd, almost like hibernating through the winter.

“Speaking of which… Master Ed. There’s another concern…”

“Another concern?”

Belle looked troubled, stroking his chin, then shook his head vigorously.

“Maybe it’s overstepping, but…”

“Now I’m even more curious.”

Losing his resolve, Belle, holding Lucy more securely, spoke to me with a determined face.

“Anyway… best of luck, Master Ed.”

The blueberry pie tasted like it had sand in it.

These were delicacies directly sourced from the most renowned bakery in Huangdao. Claire, excited to see her academic friends after a long time, brought these premium snacks.

Sitting in front of her closest friends, Yenika and Anis, Claire sipped her tea, feeling like she was on pins and needles.

In a student welfare facility at the professors’ student union building, the three of them sat side by side on a bench, unable to engage in proper conversation for nearly five minutes.

Claire initially tried to spark discussion with her excitement about vacation plans and next semester’s classes, but only received short answers, with a tense atmosphere lingering between Yenika and Anis.

‘Why are they like this…? Did they fight…?’

The obvious tension suggested a fight, giving Claire a headache.

It was heartbreaking to think her two dearest friends from Sylvania had fought.

She reminisced about seeing Yenika and Anis before leaving for vacation – always together, despite their bickering, which now triggered Claire’s nostalgia.

The bond between Yenika and Anis was strong. Even if they had fought, it likely wasn’t over something that could sever their friendship.

Anis, despite her tenacity, was inherently good-natured, and Yenika was beyond reproach. Any disagreement between them couldn’t be too complex.

It was time for Claire to mediate and help them reconcile.

“Ed hugged me,” Yenika said emotionlessly.

Claire managed to swallow her tea, which threatened to reflux.

“What do you mean?”

Claire looked directly at Anis.

The implication of Yenika’s words suggested something more, forcing Claire to digest the news while observing Anis’s reaction.

Anis, looking awkward and sweating, couldn’t meet Yenika’s eyes.

“Anis…?”

“It’s more of a misunderstanding, yeah.”

Anis quickly looked up, explaining to Yenika while sweating profusely.

“The spirits oversimplified the story. They focused too much on the superficial facts. Spirits don’t know the full story.”

“What…?”

Anis took a deep breath, regaining her composure.

Anis Heilan, the meticulous and thorough chief teaching assistant of the academy, seemed to return to her usual self, reassuring Claire somewhat.

“I need to apologize to Yenika. There’s something Claire also knew… Actually, I did flirt with that man, Ed.”

Claire finally understood the whole story.

Before leaving for vacation, Anis had mentioned throwing herself at Ed to see his reaction.

“Ah, so that was it…! Yenika found out?! Anis, you’re really…! But yes, you should apologize…!”

“Yes, Yenika. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t trust Ed Rothtaylor… He seemed too flippant… I wanted to test him.”

“What…? No… really?”

Yenika’s pupils shook violently, understandable to Claire, whose heart also began to race.