1-Second Invincible Player in the Game

132. Special Admission (3)

During my time in the mansion, I had learned quite a bit about Mircel.

In the latter part of the scenario, my brother is known as the flawless inspector, and it’s only natural that curiosity stirs about his childhood.

What I discovered about Mircel is that he has no friends.

The reason is that he is a solitary genius, set apart from others.

Children his age, unable to restrain their feelings of relative deprivation and childish jealousy, only spread ill rumors behind his back.

Every time he would say, “Am I a child?” it must have felt petty to those envious kids, or perhaps he drew a line, rebelling against them, thinking he was different.

Yet, deep down, he remained just a child.

—

The evidence lies in the fact that I once asked Niasel to take my hand and play with me.

Perhaps it was through me and Niasel that we quenched the obvious thirst of our age.

Yet, this is the result.

That rascal enrolled in Frost Heart just to play with me here.

* * *

“Ugh, it’s summer, yet it’s so cold.”

Mirselle jumped down from the carriage. She seems a few centimeters taller than I remember. Donathan remarked in awe.

‘There’s no aura to be felt. In such a short time… Truly a remarkable pace of growth.’

‘Is it really growth? If it can’t be felt, isn’t that a bad sign?’

‘Don’t speak nonsense. The fact that not a single wisp of aura escapes is proof that she can perfectly wield the aura she possesses.’

It seems Mirselle has tightly bound her aura at the dantian, ensuring not a single drop seeps out.

Hmm, I can’t shake the feeling that her presence has slightly faded compared to before.

“Brother, how have you been?”

Mirselle approached me, waving her adorably cute hand. I responded with a grin, amused by her antics.

“You really came after all.”

Selly, who stood beside me, bowed her head in greeting.

“Have you been well, Lord Mirselle?”

“Oh, it’s been a while for you too. I was just talking about you and Mirei on the way here.”

“Pardon? Mirei?”

Just then, Mirei emerged from the carriage, pulling out luggage with perfect timing.

She unfolded a garment as if to dress Mirselle.

“Lord Mirselle, here’s your coat.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Mirei, the maid who had been in charge of cooking at my annex.

Didn’t I hear she was working in the main house after I left for the academy?

It seems she has now been assigned as Mirselle’s dedicated maid.

“Have you been well, Lord Hursel?”

As Mirei set down the luggage and greeted me politely, I welcomed her warmly in return.

“You’re not planning to poison the food here too, are you?”

“Ahem.”

—

Mirei cleared her throat, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks as she shifted the topic.

“But, Lord Erucel…”

…Come to think of it, I had forgotten he was my brother too.

But where had he gone, especially when Mircel was supposed to arrive?

“Oh, the second brother? He might not even know I’m here. We don’t usually exchange letters. Still, it’s strange. Mom would have mentioned it.”

“He might have mixed up the dates. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“That’s true enough.”

“Well, we can catch up with him later. For now, it feels a bit odd to stay here. Shall we head to your dorm?”

As I spoke, Mirei and Selly grabbed their bags, sharing the load.

On our way, we chatted about Mircel and various other things.

“It looked eerie from the outside, but it’s even more so once you step in…”

Frost Heart was a stark white fortress.

The view from the outside was somewhat bright.

Yet, what Mircel felt was likely due to the trait known as ‘sensation beyond perception.’

He instinctively sensed it.

That this place was not normal.

“You’re going to see many strange things from now on. So, it’s best to keep your wits about you.”

“Oh, come on. What could possibly happen? I’ll be with you.”

“Ah, didn’t I mention? You and I will be in different dorms. I’ll be staying over there.”

I pointed toward the Shulafe dormitory.

Mircel tilted his head, staring at the dilapidated building that resembled a ruin.

“…You’re staying there?”

Mircel’s eyes widened in surprise as he asked. I nodded, reassuring him.

“Well, yes. But don’t worry. The facilities where you’ll be staying are several times better than that.”

“Ugh, what? Then we won’t see each other often, will we? There must be curfews here too. Let’s see, that means we’ll only have class times and evenings to meet.”

Ah, I realized I hadn’t mentioned that I had enrolled in the Magic Department.

I kept it a secret from Mircel too, not wanting to give Aol any reason to pry.

I should tell him now. I’d keep my mouth shut about it later.

“You’ll probably only run into me during class occasionally. I’m in the Magic Department. Even though there are joint classes with the Knight Department, you’ll be assigned to the Adel dorm, so our chances of meeting will be even less.”

Joint classes were often held only among those from the same dormitory, not all of them together.

Upon speaking that truth, Mircel asked with a face full of disappointment.

A hint of bewilderment laced her voice.

“You’re in the Ministry of Magic? What on earth are you doing there?”

“Well… it’s because…”

Mircel regarded me as some kind of master of the arcane.

It would be wise to weave a suitable excuse.

“I wanted to learn something different.”

Mircel, in her childlike innocence, accepted this without hesitation.

“Oh, that makes sense. You’ve achieved so much; it’s only natural to seek out new things.”

As we chatted, we passed through the grand entrance of the fortress.

Dull-hued portraits hung on the marble walls, alongside enormous mirrors. The gloomy faces of students trudged through the corridor. They occasionally cast surprised glances our way.

They must have wondered why a child was here.

With such an air of nobility, it wouldn’t have crossed their minds that I was merely a servant.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed they didn’t even recognize Mircel.

The reason for this became clear through the conversations of those passing by.

“Have you seen Dorothian? They say she’s wearing three cursed artifacts.”

“No, but I heard she can use magic? Apparently, she drew a spell to kill the servant she brought with her?”

The academy was currently abuzz with tales of the monstrous villainess, Dorothian. Mircel’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Have you seen Dorothian?”

“…I have seen her.”

Worry began to creep into Mircel’s expression.

After all, she was also an exceptional student, suddenly sharing the same dormitory floor.

Of course, the living quarters were strictly divided by gender, but it was still possible we might cross paths.

I cautioned Mirei.

“Mirei. Make sure to keep track of Dorothian’s schedule.”

“Her schedule, you say?”

“I mean to ensure we don’t run into that woman.”

Under normal circumstances, that floor would be solely occupied by Dorothian.

Suddenly, I felt the need to look out for Mircel’s safety, now that she was my neighbor.

Mirei, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation, swallowed hard.

“Yes, I will make sure to keep a close eye on that.”

Fortunately, Mircel did not act foolishly.

“…Hmm. Seeing you like this, I suppose it’s best to avoid confrontation.”

“Right, who knows what mischief might ensue.”

“Understood. Mother always said to listen to you.”

Though he enjoyed a bit of dangerous thrill, at heart, he was a good child who followed orders.

I lightly tapped Mircel on the shoulder.

By the time we graduate, he’ll be a full-grown adult, won’t he?

* * *

It felt odd to step into the realm of the special admissions students.

In the fortress, there were professors—high-ranking ones, no less—who had commandeered the elevator.

There was also the levitating device operated by magic stones, found in the mage tower.

Aside from that, the only ones who could use it were the student council, special admissions students, or the attendants serving them.

No matter how many privileges I received from the faculty, it felt wrong to use it freely without permission.

So, I had no choice but to wait by the elevator doors, chatting with Selly until Mircel finished unpacking.

“If it’s Mirei, she’ll probably be working in the dining hall.”

“Most likely, right? She was excellent at cooking. I suspect she’ll be assigned to the Adel Hall’s kitchen…”

“Hm, should I ask for a discount when the meal tickets run out?”

At that moment, I heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Thud, thud.

I assumed it was a professor coming to use the elevator, listening to Selly’s chatter.

“Oh, would that even work? What power does a servant have?”

But as the footsteps drew nearer, Selly let out a short gasp.

“Ow.”

Seeing her about to stumble, I quickly caught her by the nape of her neck.

Someone had just bumped into her on purpose.

Turning my head, I caught sight of the smirking face of a man.

He looked down at Selly, taunting her with a sneer.

“Oh, why bump into someone when they’re just passing by?”

“Excuse me? I was just standing here… uh-oh?”

I pulled Selly’s nape, positioning her behind me.

“Look at you, clearly here to stir trouble. Why are you even bothering to respond?”

After speaking to Selly, I turned my gaze to the man.

“Isn’t that right?”

He was one of the brats who had caused a ruckus in the past.

Ranked seventh among the ten.

His name… I had forgotten.

“Ha, what a real blunder. Anyone would think you’re genuinely looking for a fight.”

He surveyed the surroundings, swaggering as if he reveled in the attention of the onlooking students. It was as if he was basking in a sense of superiority, believing he could act this way without consequence.

“What a child you are.”

The critique slipped from my lips, perfectly formed.

Yet he did not humbly accept it; instead, he crumpled his expression and lowered his voice.

“A child, you say…?”

“Should I use another term? Let’s see, scoundrel. Third-rate thug. What else is there? Ah.”

Suddenly, a more precise assessment came to mind.

I pointed a finger at him, correcting my statement.

“Pretending to be strong only against the weak is more accurately described as a sycophant. You only flatter those stronger than you, don’t you? Wake up to reality. They’re merely looking at you with pity. Yet you mistake that for admiration. Perhaps you don’t even realize it.”

He clenched his fists and strode forward.

I did not back down, lifting my chin defiantly.

If a fight broke out now, I was confident I would win.

The rank of seventh is a position earned through duels among the main players.

The strategies are learned instinctively.

Of course, if we compared our stats, he would likely be superior. But I had something he didn’t, forged through my training.

A strike fueled by every ounce of my strength.

Its power could even surpass that of the professors.

He grabbed my collar, his eyes wide with fury.

“This b*stard really…”

In truth, even if he were to shave his head for a hundred gold, he would prattle on about being a swordmaster or some such nonsense.

But right now, I had no desire to indulge him.

The reason was simple: his bravado felt forced, unnatural.

These are the golden ones.

Obsessed with their outward image to the point of grotesqueness, utterly devoid of concept.

Had they heard the rumors of the bloodstained viper being caught, they would not have dared to provoke so recklessly.

For if they were to suffer disgrace, they would not be able to show their faces again.

And the cause of this, perhaps, lay with Emeric’s gang and Atra.

Those humans had the knack for shutting the eyes and ears of their kind, and they had been acting suspiciously of late.

—H-hey, did my name come up at all?

Atra even went so far as to ask the elders and professors if they had mentioned his name.

—Ah, from the seventh round to the first? Well, this is fortuitous. Hursel, those folks are quite amiable. It might be a good chance to mingle. What do you say? Should I set up a meeting? Getting friendly would make life at the academy much easier in many ways.

Hamon, who had stuck close to Emeric, had even gone so far as to cheat openly.

Those b*stards were surely plotting to use me and these others as fodder for their gambling table.

I had no desire to be exploited by those insufferable wretches.

I leaned close to his ear and whispered a warm-hearted mercy.

“After work, follow me to a quiet place. I’ll give you a good thrashing in some secluded spot.”

How kind of me.

I would forgive him by merely half-killing him, quietly ending it without him being humiliated in front of others.

Yet, true to form, he screamed like a child, “You b*stard!!”

It was then that the hall echoed with his outburst. The elevator doors chimed open.

Creeeak—

A foul voice seeped through the crack. It was unmistakably Rockefeller’s voice.

“There are many strict rules, but do not worry. I have firmly instructed the professors to accommodate you as much as possible. If there is any discomfort, feel free to come to my office at any time.”

His feigned kindness grated on my nerves.

But that was not the crux of the matter.

Even now, the golden one had me by the collar, his fists raised as if ready to strike at any moment.

“Gah!”

The sound came from both the golden one and Rockefeller.

“P-Professor Rockefeller…”

The golden one trembled like a quaking aspen.

Rockefeller hastily covered Mircel’s eyes with his palm, babbling strange words.

“Ha ha, it seems there are some amusing little rascals at play.”

“Isn’t that person just now being grabbed by the collar our older brother?”

“Ahem, yes. Indeed. Your brother is quite the troublemaker at the Academy. He often pulls stunts like this, playing around with his friends. But that’s the freedom that comes with the Frost Heart.”

You might find yourself doubting if that really is Rockefeller.

Yet, I know why that man behaves as he does.

If Mircel wishes to drop out, the Academy has quietly agreed to accept it, having made a silent pact with our family.

With mischief bubbling within me, I let my lips droop and feigned a pitiful expression.

“Oh, senior. You shouldn’t be doing this here. We can spar later. I’d rather not get hit in front of my younger sibling.”

Goldie glanced at the hand gripping his collar, then quickly let go, casting a wary look at Rockefeller.

Rockefeller wore a frosty expression, silently moving his lips.

The trajectory of his lips unmistakably spelled ‘follow me.’

Goldie trailed behind Rockefeller with a dejected gait, watching his retreating figure.

I was staring blankly at their backs when, suddenly, I felt a sharp static shock from beside me. It came from Mircel.

Turning my head, I saw Mircel, with an adorably innocent face, patting his belly.

“Hyung, I’m hungry.”

“Hm, it is about time for a meal.”

I pulled out the meal ticket I had been saving and took Mircel to the Adel Hall dining room.

“Just say what you want. I’ll buy you everything.”

“Wow, really?”

Mircel beamed with joy, his smile wide.

* * *

Melton of the Seventh Battle, who had grabbed Hursel by the collar.

He fervently prayed that the next day would not come.

“…Am I really going to be under that man’s thumb again?”

With each passing day, Melton found everything increasingly unappealing.

It was one thing to have been rude to the elders, but that had passed without incident.

By now, it would be normal for them to treat him as if nothing had happened, as they usually did.

‘Lately, the professors have been acting strangely… Why are those who used to look out for me suddenly so different?’

Even Rockefeller, though not overtly, often turned a blind eye to such matters.

—

The reason was that he was an exceptional talent, capable of achieving top grades even at other academies.

Yet, upon returning to learn the practical skills, they had changed completely.

Meldon realized that there was a man behind all of this.

‘Thinking back, it’s all that blonde b*stard’s fault. Did he swallow the academy whole while we were gone?’

The professors’ favoritism, for some reason, seemed to be directed at him.

Meldon gritted his teeth and struck the wall with his fist.

“That son of a b*tch, it’s nothing special… He must have been buttering up the professors, huh?”

The Hassel he had known was nothing more than a cockroach in a Shulafe coffin.

Only brimming with confidence when the professors were nearby.

He thought he wouldn’t even be able to meet his gaze if they were alone.

‘…I’ll kill him. That b*stard will die by my hand.’

Still unsatisfied with his rage, Meldon continued to pound the wall.

Cracks blossomed from the force of his aura.

It was then, in the thrill of feeling his own power, that—

“Hey, you’re the one who grabbed my brother by the collar, right?”

The sudden voice sent chills down Meldon’s spine.

‘What? I didn’t sense anyone approaching.’

He quickly whipped his head around.

What he saw was a young boy, shadows draping over his face. It was undoubtedly the little brat who had been next to Rockefeller in the elevator earlier.

“Ugh.”

As he met the boy’s narrowed gaze, Meldon instinctively took a step back.

The boy’s eyes held a sharpness that felt as if they could slice through the very retina of anyone who dared to look.

“I couldn’t see your face clearly because Rockefeller blocked my view. I’ll ask you again. You’re the one who grabbed my brother, aren’t you?”

The voice was chilling enough to make his heart drop.

Meldon found himself gripping the hilt of his sword instinctively.

The only thought filling his mind was:

‘…I must resist before my body completely freezes.’

That was all.