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4.
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The next day, as soon as dawn broke, Sascha rushed to the academy. She needed to verify the document Aderton had given her.

As she lingered in front of the main gate, the guards attempted to drive her away. Since she had changed her hair color and dressed casually to conceal her identity, they mistook her for an unwanted intruder.

“Oh, I thought you were another academy applicant. Ever since a student caused a commotion in front of the main gate and got admitted, more and more people have been trying to catch the professors’ attention in the same way,” one of the guards muttered.

Sascha revealed her identity by showing a visitor’s pass stamped with the Lebe family’s seal, indicating that she was acting as the marquess’s representative. The guards, realizing their mistake, grew sheepish.

However, it wasn’t just the guards who misjudged her. The academy professors also regarded her with suspicion. It was only after a professor who had been a close friend of her mother repeatedly assured them that she was indeed sent by the Lebe family that Sascha was finally allowed into the research lab.

The professors, who had been wary of Sascha, had a complete change in attitude after examining the document. Their expressions turned euphoric, as if they had discovered a one-of-a-kind treasure. They even began arguing over who should take it to their own research lab, each claiming it fell under their area of expertise.

Watching them quarrel, Sascha quietly raised her hand.
“What exactly is written in that document?”

“Oh, we… we forgot to inform you, my lady—I mean, Representative.”

One of the professors quickly corrected himself. According to his explanation, the document appeared to be an ordinary letter exchanging pleasantries. However, what made it extraordinary was the sender and recipient—it was a correspondence between the first emperor and the sage Elias Vinter.

“The two of them founded the empire together, but the nature of their relationship has never been clearly recorded. After all, historical documentation only began after the empire was officially established. This letter not only hints at their personal connection but also serves as a valuable artifact offering insights into daily life at the time.”

Sascha’s earlier worries that the document might contain dangerous spells now seemed unfounded. As the tension left her body, she felt a bit drained.

“But we don’t even know if it’s authentic. Someone could have forged it,” she pointed out, still skeptical.

At her reasonable observation, the scholars exchanged glances. To them, the document seemed undoubtedly genuine, yet none of them spoke up with certainty.

“Well… To verify the authenticity of this letter, we would need to conduct a thorough investigation….”
“Would you be able to secure permission from the marquess…?”

The once-confident scholars now spoke hesitantly, their voices dripping with cautious humility. If they had to, they looked ready to grovel.

Sascha nodded without hesitation.
“The marquess instructed me to accommodate the scholars’ requests as much as possible.”

“Pardon?”

“You may research it for as long as you need. If you require additional research funds, you may request support from the Lebe family.”

When the scholars hesitated, Sascha retrieved another document from her coat—an official permit stamped with the marquess’s seal, granting full approval for the academy scholars to conduct their research.

‘It’s not mine to begin with anyway.’

Perhaps because the document had never belonged to her, Sascha felt no desire to keep it even now that she understood its significance. To her, an artifact was nothing more than a scrap of paper, and rather than keeping it in the hands of someone who didn’t know its worth, it made more sense to entrust it to those who would put it to good use.

While Sascha indifferently handed over the permission letter, the scholars were overcome with emotion.

Most nobles, upon obtaining such a valuable artifact, would first have it appraised for authenticity and then store it safely in a vault. The more research was conducted and knowledge was uncovered, the less rare and valuable it became.

Since even historical artifacts were considered private property, research was impossible unless the owner granted permission. Yet here she was, freely allowing them to study the document—and even offering financial support for their research.

Faced with such an unprecedented opportunity, the scholars were moved to tears.

‘As expected, heroes are truly remarkable.’

The scholars chanted three cheers for the hero. Watching them embrace each other in joy, Sascha tilted her head.

‘The academy must really love studying.’

While they were busy discussing the letter, Sascha quietly slipped away and turned to leave.

“What brings you here, little lion?”

As she stepped out of the research building, Sascha halted at the familiar phrase. Little lion. It was a nickname derived from her own name, Sascha—one her parents often used. It was also tied to memories she had shared with childhood friends.

Turning her head, she saw Juliana winking playfully. Two students in academy uniforms stood beside her, likely classmates.

“Where’s that pretty hair of yours hiding? This look doesn’t suit you at all.”
“Are you really reading that book?”

“I’m a student too!”

Sascha pointed at the thick book in Juliana’s arms, teasing her. In response, Juliana confidently flipped it open—only for Sascha to notice it was upside down.

“Hahaha!”

When Juliana hastily corrected the book’s position, Sascha couldn’t hold back her laughter.

In her memories, Juliana had always been a child who bounced around even in a dress. Seeing her now, striding around with a book tucked under her arm like a proper student, felt completely unfamiliar.

Was this what it felt like to watch a five-year-old solemnly refuse candy, declaring they were all grown up? Sascha gazed down at Juliana, who was still three heads shorter than her, with amusement.

“Lady Juliana, do you know this person?”

Sascha introduced herself as the Lebe family’s representative.

A mercenary can act as a noble’s representative?

The two students exchanged puzzled glances, whispering among themselves. Hearing their murmurs, Juliana turned away, clearly trying to suppress a grin. But the way the corners of her mouth twitched and her shoulders trembled gave her away.

Sascha frowned. If she was going to laugh, she might as well do it outright.

The students stared at the two of them in curiosity. A common mercenary being treated so casually by a member of the imperial family? Maybe she wasn’t a mercenary at all—perhaps she was actually a noble?

Under the influence of the Lebe family’s reputation, the students’ perception of Sascha shifted. In their minds, she had suddenly transformed into an unassuming aristocrat.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone treat Lady Juliana this informally—aside from Aderton.”

“Aderton?”

Why was that name being mentioned here?

Sascha’s brow furrowed deeply. The mere mention of that name made her forehead crease with irritation.

“There’s a student named Aderton in the medical department. He’s famous for all sorts of reasons—especially for causing a commotion at the front gate and catching the headmaster’s attention, which is how he got admitted.”

“…Ah.”

So that troublemaker was him.

Sascha felt a headache coming on. A sage-level figure throwing a tantrum to get into the academy—no wonder people were talking about it.

She neither understood nor wanted to understand.

“But he’s smart, tall, and ridiculously handsome.”
“Yeah, thanks to him, the academy’s average attractiveness has gone up.”
“And yesterday, at the banquet, he even danced with the hero…”

The students had been chatting excitedly, but suddenly, they clamped their mouths shut, realizing what they had just said.

Had news of the banquet spread?

Would this upset the marquess’s representative?

One of the students cautiously observed Sascha’s expression.

Fortunately, she was lost in her own thoughts and hadn’t caught the last part of their conversation.

So Juliana had recognized him at the banquet because they had already met at the academy.

But more importantly—medical department?

Sascha frowned slightly.

“What kind of person is Aderton?”

The two students answered in unison.

“He’s a god.”
“He’s a monster.”

Hearing the stark contrast in their responses, Sascha scowled.

When she didn’t seem to understand, they elaborated.

“He claims to have a lot to do, so he studies like a man possessed. He passed the tax accountant exam in his first year.”
“The next year, he passed both the CPA exam and the civil service exam all at once.”

“The medical department let him skip grades, then he passed the bar exam in the same year. And yet, he still finds time to have fun, volunteer, and even pick up cooking, coffee, and dessert-related certifications as a hobby.”

“He also double-majored in pharmacology at the same time.”

“Passing exams, double-majoring, and even planning to graduate early—he’s really not an ordinary guy.”

Aderton had said it himself. That he could do anything, as long as someone gave him the task. But to think he actually could. Even obtaining all those state-certified qualifications.

Even if he had used his demonic beast abilities to manipulate the results, what about the sheer endurance and determination needed to sit through all those consecutive exams…? Was that even possible…?

For someone like Sascha, who relied on physical prowess, the mere thought of studying made her head spin. But beyond that, why would a demonic beast even need such abilities?

His bizarre actions made Sascha clutch her head, her temples throbbing from the mere thought.

“Amazing, right? That’s why we asked him ourselves—are you even human?”

“And he just gave us this eerie smile and said, Do you still see me as the same Aderton you once knew…? The way he said it was so convincing, we seriously thought a ghost or some kind of demon had possessed him.”

Of course, he wasn’t human—he was a demonic beast.

Sascha swallowed down the urge to shout that they were all being fooled.

“Right? And when we jokingly asked him how many lives he’s lived, he just said, Is there really a need to count?”

The students laughed, saying Aderton even had a sense of humor.

From their stories, a common pattern emerged—he was an excellent student, sociable, and, despite his sharp features, had a surprisingly easygoing personality.

It was all wrapped up in the perfect package.

From their words alone, Aderton sounded like a bright, charismatic student who excelled in both academics and social life.

No wonder he had deceived Juliana and fooled the entire academy.

Even Sascha wasn’t immune to it. She smirked crookedly.

“I knew something was off the moment he first appeared.”

“I should’ve bathed in chicken blood before my exam too.”

“Chicken blood?”

Sascha, puzzled as to why they suddenly brought up animal blood, asked.

The students exchanged wary glances, lowered their voices, and whispered as if they were sharing a forbidden secret.

“When he caused that commotion at the academy gate, he was drenched in blood from head to toe. But if he had walked all the way in that state, there should have been a trail left behind. Yet, there was nothing—no bloodstains on the road, nothing. It was bizarre.”

“The whole academy was in an uproar, thinking some madman had shown up. It was chaos.”

“Blood…?”

Had he harmed someone?

A person? Or a demonic beast?

Sascha, who had been merely intrigued until now, felt her expression harden instantly.

* * *

At the same time, the academy headmaster was in his office, conducting a meeting with a student. The student wore a diamond-shaped hat on his head and a cape made of fine carpet fabric. The headmaster tightly bound a rolled-up document with a velvet ribbon before handing it over.

“You’re finally graduating.”

The headmaster tried to hide his relief, but he couldn’t completely mask it.

“Are you happy that I’m leaving?”

“No, no! How could I be, my student?”

The headmaster frantically waved his hands in denial, prompting the student to add, *I was only joking.* Only then did the headmaster let out a sigh of relief and wipe his forehead with a handkerchief.

As the student untied the velvet ribbon, the document unfurled smoothly. Inside, it contained the customary congratulatory remarks for graduation, along with the student’s name—Aderton Vinter.

“Truly, when you first appeared, I was utterly shocked. They said a madman was banging on the academy gates out of nowhere.”

And that madman was drenched in blood.

When the blood-soaked figure lunged forward, even the guards had recoiled in fear. The terrifying visitor had tossed aside anyone who blocked his way, shouting insistently to summon the headmaster.

After hearing of the commotion, the headmaster had rushed to the front gate—only to question his own hearing when he finally listened to what the madman was saying.

Because what the madman spoke of was the rough draft of a thesis the headmaster himself had once written.

It was a claim so incoherent that even the headmaster found it embarrassing to recall.

‘But only my late mentor would have known about this. How could he…?’

The headmaster had decided to bring the madman to his office first. He wondered if this was a hidden disciple or perhaps a relative of his deceased teacher.

However, once the madman had been cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothes, he bore no resemblance to his old mentor at all. On the contrary, he looked like an elegant and refined noble.

– So, where did you hear about the things you just mentioned?
– I remember everything. Even how much of a mess your thesis was.
– Lies. He passed away.
– Did you see the body with your own eyes?

The news of the mentor’s passing had come in the form of a brief letter.

Unmarried and without children, his death had been mourned only by his students and colleagues. The headmaster had attended the funeral, watched as the black coffin was lowered into the ground, and wiped away his tears with a handkerchief.

So was this man claiming they had buried an empty coffin?

The headmaster scowled, thinking this unfamiliar young man was mocking the deceased. Deciding he had heard enough, he reached for the door to call the guards.

But the door wouldn’t open.

Behind him, a massive shadow loomed, stretching over him.

It was thick and long, like a serpent.

The chilling aura froze him in place, too afraid to turn around.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker—a forked tongue darting out.

A sharp, whispering sound like the rustling of dry leaves filled the office.

– You wouldn’t want the world to find out that a renowned scholar of the academy is actually a demonic beast, would you?
– This… This can’t be…
– I’ll graduate in exactly five years. Hold a transfer exam for me.

The shadow that had engulfed the room suddenly receded.

Only then did the headmaster dare to turn around.

The young man still stood there, dressed neatly, smiling ever so calmly.

– *Even if you were my mentor, even if I am the headmaster, this is difficult. As you know, the transfer exam is extremely difficult. Why not simply attempt the entrance exam next year?*
– *Have you tried it?*
– *…Pardon?*
– *How can you assume I’ll fail without even giving me a chance? Do you really think I would?*

The young man tilted his chin up, smirking.

His tone was arrogant, but it didn’t sound like empty bravado.

Not when his former mentor had been called *the* genius of his era.

The headmaster hesitated before nodding with difficulty.

If Aderton failed, they could simply turn him away.

If he passed, then the academy would gain an exceptional talent.