“What Eileen said about the hardware facilities is true. Three training grounds—one for basic physical training, one for cha simulations, and one for live combat drills. Two cha hangars—one for training chas and one for students' personal chas. The library does have three floors, and its collection is the third largest in the Empire, second only to the Royal Library and the Military Archives.”
Eleanor's voice softened, as if recalling sothing distant.
“But that's just the surface.”
“Students at the Royal Knights Academy are divided into two categories: children of nobles and scholarship students from commoner backgrounds.”
“The children of nobles make up the majority. They co here to gild their credentials, build connections, or simply because of family tradition. Scholarship students from commoner backgrounds are the minority. They enter the academy through rigorous examinations, with their tuition covered by the Empire, and are required to serve for at least ten years after graduation.”
“Between the two groups...”
“...things aren't exactly harmonious.”
Eleanor's tone took on a subtle nuance.
“The children of nobles see the scholarship students as upstarts here to steal resources. The scholarship students see the children of nobles as useless layabouts coasting on their family nas. They despise each other, and open and covert conflicts are the norm.”
Pavela rembered the girl she t on the train.
Natasha Petrova.
Short reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and a gaze filled with undisguised hostility.
“The two sides despise each other, yet they have no choice but to study, train, and compete within the sa academy.”
“So...”
“...there are all sorts of open and covert conflicts.”
Pavela finished the thought.
“Exactly.”
Eleanor nodded.
“There are many student clubs in the academy. On the surface, they're interest groups, but in reality, they're strongholds for various factions. Noble students have their clubs, and commoner students have theirs.”
“Conflicts often break out between the two sides—sotis verbal, sotis...”
She paused.
“...physical.”
Eileen chid in softly from the side, “But only within the rules! The academy has a dedicated 'dueling ground.' If two students have a dispute, they can apply for a formal duel. With chas or swords, supervised by instructors, so no one dies...”
“Most of the ti.”
Eleanor corrected.
Eileen's voice trailed off.
“What else?”
“Then there's...”
Eleanor's expression grew subtly complex.
“...so special training programs in the academy.”
Pavela recalled General Margaret's words.
“You an General Margaret's program?”
“Not just hers.”
Eleanor said.
“There are several special programs in the academy, each overseen by different high-ranking officers or nobles. Students in these programs don't attend regular classes; they have their own training plans and assessnt standards.”
“Little is known about these programs outside. All that's known is that students who get into them are either exceptionally talented or...”
She paused.
“...possess certain special abilities.”
Pavela's eyes narrowed slightly.
Like the twenty-two paths of return.
Like the Path of the Tower.
“General Margaret's program is one of them,” Eleanor said, “but I don't know the specifics. All I know is that her students...”
Her voice grew lower.
“...rarely graduate.”
Silence fell in the carriage.
Eileen looked tense, her amber eyes flickering with worry.
“In summary,” Eleanor's tone returned to its usual calm, “the Royal Knights Academy is a... complicated place.”
“It has the best resources and the fiercest competition.”
“It has the most talented people and the dirtiest thods.”
“But overall, it's still a safe place.”
“The academy has its own rules, its own bottom line. As long as you don't cross that line, your life won't be in danger.”
“All those open and covert conflicts between students are, in the end, just...”
Her voice slowed.
“...the antics of...”
Then, she stopped.
Pavela followed her gaze out the window.
The steam car was slowing down.
Ahead lay the gates of the Royal Knights Academy.
Or rather—
what used to be the gates.
According to Eileen's earlier description, the main gate of the Royal Knights Academy should have been a magnificent Gothic archway flanked by imposing statues.
Now—
the archway was still there, but it was crooked.
The statue on the left was only half intact, everything above the waist gone, with faint wisps of smoke rising from the broken edge.
The statue on the right was intact, but for so reason, it had been painted pink.
The ground was littered with rubble, shell casings, and so...
Pavela looked closer.
Are those... underwear?
Why is there underwear on the ground?
She looked up at Eleanor.
Eleanor's expression froze.
Her ice-blue eyes were filled with disbelief.
Pavela tilted her head.
“What were you saying just now?”
...
Eleanor didn't answer.
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say sothing, but in the end, nothing ca out.
Just then—
a sharp whistling sound ca from within the academy.
Pavela turned her gaze back toward the gates.
Wow, artillery shells too?
“Boom—!”
A shell landed squarely in the center of the gates.
The shockwave kicked up a cloud of dust, and the already-crooked archway finally gave way, collapsing with a thunderous crash.
The pink statue on the right swayed dangerously in the shockwave, then—
“Crack.”
The statue's head fell off, rolled a few tis on the ground, and finally ca to a stop beside the steam car's wheel.
Pavela looked down at the pink stone head.
It had a little mustache and a pair of glasses drawn on it.
...
The first Grand Master of The Order.
If he knew about this in the afterlife, he'd probably leap out of his coffin in fury.
Dead silence filled the carriage.
Eleanor's expression could no longer be described as “ugly.”
It was more like...
Pavela thought for a mont and found the right word.
Despair.
Yes, despair.
Exactly like the expressions she'd seen on enemy soldiers when she'd blown up their supply trucks on the battlefield.
“Um...”
Eileen spoke up cautiously.
Her voice was shaky, her amber eyes flickering with guilt.
“Sister, Pavela, I can explain...”
Eleanor slowly turned to look at her sister.
The look in her eyes made Eileen instinctively shrink back.
“Speak.”
Eleanor's voice was terrifyingly calm.
“Why is the Royal Knights Academy's gate in this state?”
“Uh...”
Eileen swallowed.
“Well... it's actually a tradition...”
“Tradition?”
“Yes, a tradition that started in recent years!”
Eileen's voice regained a bit of confidence.
“Every year, the week before classes start, the two largest student clubs in the academy hold a live combat exercise!”
“Live combat exercise?”
Pavela repeated.
“Yes!”
Eileen nodded and began to explain.
“There are two largest student clubs in the academy: the Iron Cross and the Dawn Brigade.”
“The Iron Cross is mostly noble students, and the Dawn Brigade is mostly commoner students.”
“These two clubs... well... don't get along very well.”
“So every year before classes start, the academy designates an area for the two clubs to hold a friendly match.”
“It's called a friendly match, but in reality, it's...”
Her voice trailed off.
“...a chance to settle scores and grievances.”
Pavela looked out the window at the chaotic battlefield, then back at Eileen.
She didn't say anything, just blinked.
Eileen's face flushed red.
“It's not usually ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) like this! Really!”
“It's only like this the week before classes start!”
“And there are rules! No live ammunition! No permanent injuries! No attacking non-combatants!”
“That shell...”
She glanced out the window at the still-smoking crater.
“...was probably a training round, only one-tenth as powerful as a live shell...”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
“One-tenth the power did this to the gates?”
Eileen fell silent.
“...Maybe the gates were already old and poorly maintained?”
...
“Boom—!!”
Another explosion, this one seeming closer.
Eleanor took a deep breath, a vein throbbing on her forehead.
She shoved the car door open, her military boots crunching crisply on the rubble.
“These... bastards.”
She spat the words coldly and strode toward the ruins.
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