Red brick grounds, cloistered corridors, graceful fountains, and noble white marble statues, along with four three-story buildings painted in creamy white.
This is the most prestigious academy among the seven kingdoms on the continent of Corfu. Countless nobles, whether wealthy earls, distinguished dukes, or supreme kings, send their second sons to this academy.
Admission to this academy is, in itself, a mark of high nobility.
For children of lesser nobles to enter, strict requirements must be met: proficiency in horsemanship, swordsmanship, linguistics, history, and philosophy.
Students here are either immensely wealthy or exceptionally talented.
Today, at Aurelian Academy, it is the entrance examination day for the new season of students.
Many have already left the academy with regret and immense disappointment.
Some failed the exams, while others were rejected outright due to their status.
One senior student remarked to his peers, “These lowborn nobles and commoners actually think they can enter this academy.”
“They must be mad. Can they even afford the thousands of gold coins in annual tuition?”
“As if Aurelian Academy accepts just any trash.”
He deliberately spoke within earshot of the failed candidates, who displayed expressions of inferiority and fear.
They all knew the reputation of Aurelian Academy, so none dared to retort.
Locke Augustine, a third-year senior at the academy, frowned at this.
Seeing Locke’s frown, Cohen Julian turned, glaring with displeasure. “Still, we have some dead rats among us.”
“Locke Augustine, you’re still at our academy? I heard the Frankish Empire has conquered your Anjou Kingdom’s capital, and your Augustine family’s lands have fallen.”
“Can you even afford this year’s tuition?”
Cohen Julian and his two overweight lackeys smirked with malicious glee.
“Your king is dead, and your country is gone.”
Locke hadn’t expected this fool to suddenly target him, and he raised an eyebrow. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on NoveI(F)ire.net
Cohen Julian and his lackeys were nobles of the Frankish Empire, the Julian family being an earldom.
Locke, or rather the original owner of his body, was the youngest son of an earl from the Anjou Kingdom.
Thus, Julian and the original Locke were often at odds, frequently clashing in the past.
Now, hearing of the Augustine family’s downfall, Julian naturally seized the chance to mock him.
In the past, Locke might have argued back, only to be humiliated by Julian due to his kingdom’s dire situation.
But now, Locke was a transmigrator. He felt no attachment to the Anjou Kingdom or the Augustine lands, so he wasn’t provoked.
Shrugging, Locke looked at Julian and his lackeys. “And? What does that prove?”
Julian and his cronies, expecting Locke to rage or falter, were momentarily stunned.
They’d been slighted.
This soured Julian’s mood briefly, but he soon turned malicious again, pointing at the lesser nobles and commoners taking the entrance exams. “You’ll soon be one of them.”
“The academy’s tuition, just the base fee, is thousands of gold coins. A single course costs hundreds. If you can’t take enough courses or clear your fees, you’ll be expelled.”
“Locke, I look forward to the day you, a stray dog, get kicked out of the academy.”
“When that happens, don’t come begging me to take you in. I’ve reserved a guard position just for you.”
Julian and his lackeys left.
Locke watched them, bemused, feeling no emotional stir. He found the three Frankish students somewhat absurd.
Pointlessly targeting him, as if it gained them anything. The students here, he thought, were all a bit unhinged.
Indeed, having transmigrated to this world two weeks ago, Locke had grasped the true nature of Aurelian Academy.
To put it kindly, it was a prestigious institution gathering second sons of high nobles and exceptional youths from the seven kingdoms. In truth, it was a gilded cage for nobles.
Wealthy aristocrats paid exorbitant fees to send their unpromising, non-heir sons here, merely to polish their reputations and keep them out of trouble.
Thus, the academy’s curriculum was peculiar: a language course costing a hundred gold coins per semester, paired with lenient academic requirements.
Admitting talented lesser nobles and commoners was just a way to burnish the academy’s reputation.
In reality, most students were mediocre noble offspring, and the teachers rarely took instruction seriously.
Yet, despite the lax teaching, the tuition and course fees were outrageously high.
Locke himself, or rather the original owner, had been one of these unremarkable noble second sons.
Taking a deep breath, Locke cursed his luck.
He’d thought transmigrating as an earl’s youngest son meant a carefree life of luxury. Who could’ve predicted his kingdom’s fall?
His family was bankrupt.
“No one from the family has contacted me,” Locke mused. “But surely, no one’s paying this semester’s tuition. Without it, I’ll be expelled.”
“Leaving the academy would be dangerous.”
“The Frankish are hunting Anjouans everywhere.”
“I may be safe in the academy, but once I leave, trouble will find me.”
“These exorbitant fees can’t be covered by odd jobs.”
Locke rubbed his head in frustration, glancing at the synthesis panel visible only to him, floating in the air.
This Horadric Synthesis Cube was his cheat as a transmigrator.
In his previous life, playing Gods and Magic, he’d won too much, got struck by lightning, and transmigrated with the game’s ultimate artifact.
The cube could synthesize materials based on his character level, upgrading low-grade materials into higher ones.
In the game, it was a supreme tool for alchemy, herbalism, and potion-making. Who’d have thought he’d bring it here?
The virtual cube now shimmered with opulent light, a virtual hourglass beside it. Judging by the sand’s fall, in one hour, the three sapphire fragments he’d placed inside would be synthesized!
Looking at the cube, Locke said, “Let’s see what these three sapphire fragments become. That’ll decide my next move.”
“Also, per the original owner’s memories, this academy has something odd.”
As a gilded cage for second sons, Aurelian Academy had lax standards for graduation and course completion, with teachers barely supervising.
But one standard was exceptionally stringent, never compromised by teachers: the Outstanding Graduate quota!
This quota seemed tied to significant benefits. Even high nobles couldn’t secure it with money or influence.
Each year, only a handful of students, in single digits, received this honor.
It required the approval of specific teachers and the dean, but no one knew the exact criteria.
As a transmigrator from Earth, Locke, with an outsider’s perspective, suspected Aurelian Academy wasn’t just a noble finishing school. Its very existence might revolve around these Outstanding Graduate quotas.
Searching his memories, he found that each year’s Outstanding Graduates vanished from public knowledge. No one knew who received the honor.