...

Ten Minutes Later, After Leaving the Cafeteria

Janina and Naza were seated in the newly arranged classroom for their literacy lesson, following the slips of paper with their names on it. The tables were now big enough for four students.

She enjoyed the atmosphere created by the love and care that went into this classroom. Towering bookshelves looked down on them like guardians protecting the various literature they contained.

The walls were adorned with old maps, framed manuscripts, and portraits of notable people from all races and political affiliations. Ancient enchantments were etched along the borders, and shelves were filled with novelties like aged scrolls and peculiar relics, giving the classroom a rich historical ambiance resembling the library in the Leonandra estate.

The carpeted floor, adorned with intricate patterns, and the giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling added to the room's grandeur, inspiring a sense of sophistication. The silky curtains tied back with ribbons allowed soft sunlight to bathe the room, adding to its inviting charm.

This classroom felt very different from the rest of the school, which had a more playful and vibrant tone. The colors here were mainly Bordeaux red fabrics with gold accents and beige brown walnut furniture with carved vine patterns—everything seemed to blend in—simple yet elegant.

Despite its significant size, the classroom felt comfortably crowded, not overwhelming. The various curiosities, artifacts, and books that filled it gave it a sense of history and life. The chimney's warm glow, though it didn't provide actual warmth, added a cozy ambiance, making the place feel calm and inviting.

It looked like an academic study, and like the chimney, it only appeared to be that. 'Quite bold, eh?' Janina mused as she surveyed the room—filled with fake portraits, replicas of artifacts depicted in novels, and maps showing places from fairy tales. Time was of the essence, and he evidently chose to be more creative.

It was apparent to her that Alexander only wanted to create an atmosphere to discuss deeper topics without actually putting their household artifacts for everyone to see. If Janina were honest, she would love to sit in the classroom around at night and discuss various topics.

However, the students' chatter was anything but sophisticated—instead, they exchanged mundane experiences from the cafeteria, their puppyish voices resonating off the grandeur of the room.

"I almost died! Shit, now I need to drink those potions daily?!" one student exclaimed, eyes filled with resignation.

"Check your system window! Your levels must have increased massively! So, who cares?" another replied, grinning from ear to ear.

"Nine levels up! Nine! Can you believe it?" The third student's shout was filled with uncontainable excitement, their body practically bouncing in their seat.

The more she listened to them, the more she wanted to sigh, 'They'll appreciate it when they get older... I hope,' something she would never say aloud before Alexander since he especially cared about creating such an inviting atmosphere full of sophisticated charm.

'Well, what did he expect? They are still puppies, and the whole school is already overwhelming,' a sigh finally escaped her. She knew Alexander wanted to change their behavior by creating environments that may influence them, but it was possible that it would only work in the long run—she couldn't see any results on the first day, though.

Naza leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "The seating arrangement is quite different, isn't it?" She appreciated it as her eyes darted all around the room.

Janina nodded, smiling at her. "Indeed. It's like our library, only smaller. I find it cozy."

A soft, unfamiliar phrase interrupted her chat. "Bonjo Shur," tentative and carefully pronounced.

Turning, Janina saw Lucifer—the high-demon student—smiling awkwardly. Analyzing his emotional state, Janina sensed anxiety and nervousness. 'I'd be like that too if I were in a completely foreign place,' she sympathized strongly.

"Sorry, Luci," Janina replied softly, smiling at him, "I don't speak the high-demon language."

He flushed a deep crimson. "Oh! Apologies. My sister gave me some phrases to see if anyone uses them and be careful around them." He fumbled with a piece of parchment. "I have more: Niya Ho, Gut Moren, Ola, Salama, Shalalam..."

As Lucifer spoke, rambling off words unknown words and phrases, Janina found her gaze lingering on him. There was an undeniable elegance to his appearance—soft features bordering on the androgynous yet exuding a quiet strength. His dark curls framed a face that seemed almost ethereal, with small stubby horns peeking out. His posture held a steadfastness that reminded her of her brother in his younger days. 'He's remarkably handsome,' she mused, a genuine appreciation stirring within her, but nothing romantic as if watching a beautiful bird perched on a branch.

But as their eyes met, a subtle unease crept into her thoughts. Lucifer's right eye bore an obsidian pentagram instead of a pupil, its lines slightly misaligned and shades of black shifting subtly—a telltale sign among high demons. 'That skewed pentagram...' she noted, a hint of worry threading through her mind.

She recalled what she knew of his kind. High demons wore their desires quite literally in their eyes—the state of the pentagram reflecting their inner balance. Just as beast-kin could perceive pheromones, attuned to the unspoken signals of emotion and intent, the pentagram served as a window into a high-demon's soul. The orientation and alignment indicated whether they held mastery over their impulses or tetered on the edge of indulgence.

'Is he struggling with his desires?' Janina wondered, her concern deepening. Desire was the core of his race's motivation—a double-edged sword that could drive them to greatness or lead them astray. Depending on which side the darkest point of the pentagram leaned, it could reveal a loss of control.

Lucifer's voice pulled her back to the present, his earnestness evident as he looked at her with his giant, glistering eyes, 'I'll have to observe him,' she noted inwardly and joined back to their conversation, amusement flickering in her eyes. "They're unfamiliar to me, I'm afraid. Ancient greetings, perhaps?"

Stolen novel; please report.

Lucifer's gaze dropped. "Yes! She believes only geniuses would know them. She thought someone like Alexander might understand."

"Ah, so you want me to pass these to Alex?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded eagerly. "Please! It would mean a lot!"

She considered for a moment before giving a playful smirk. "Not a chance."

Lucifer looked crestfallen. "Why not?"

Her expression softened. "If your sister wishes to communicate, she can send a letter. I'm not a messenger pigeon."

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "She... she's hesitant to contact such people directly," his voice becoming a little nervous. He put the piece of parchment back into his inner pocket.

"Why's that?" Janina inquired, curiosity piqued.

"She fears them," he admitted. "Historically, those who knew these phrases were... volatile. Like the draugr queen who greeted everyone with 'Salve' hundreds of thousands of years ago and ignited a war with the world."

Janina chuckled lightly, ignoring those past conflicts as there were too many to count, "Sounds like ancient drama. But here, in this school, we're just students. Let's not overcomplicate things."

From across the table, a jaguar-kin scoffed audibly, "Is that true, though?"

Janina glanced over, meeting his gaze. 'Right, he was from the Orchid household,' she noted, sensing a simmering disdain but nothing overtly hostile. The flower households under Duchess Zarmanas and Guard households were on bad terms, but she didn't feel targeted. Instead, he was generally annoyed.

Still overwhelmed by the day, Naza naively offered him a cheerful smile, "Hi! I'm Naza." Her innocence was palpable in the way she greeted Henry, her pure intentions shining through.

Henry raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by her excited behavior, but still gave a curt nod. "Name's Henry."

Lucifer extended a friendly hand. "Nice to meet you, Henry! Isn't it great how the teachers here genuinely want to teach? Most were only interested in power at home, wanting to become my retainers!"

Henry's demeanor shifted, and a polite but fake smile formed. "Well, Luci, that's because many teachers here are outcasts."

Lucifer tilted his head, pulling his arm back. "Outcasts?"

"Disgraced, nowhere else to go," Henry elaborated. "They end up here, away from any respectable institutions."

Janina leaned back in her chair, smirking, "Sometimes, those who've fallen have the most to teach."

Henry arched an eyebrow. "And what could those traitors possibly teach us? How can you ram someone a dagger in the back most efficiently?"

Before she could respond, the door swung open. The sharp clack of heels echoed as a woman entered—a lamb-kin with curly black hair, striking amber eyes, and a comfortably revealing summer dress showing off her body. Confidence radiated from her as she addressed the class.

"Because," she began, her voice smooth yet commanding, "Mr. Alexander recognizes our skills and ensures we teach without the distractions of petty politics." She smirked. "Even though I am sure your dear Father and oldest sister could surely teach us the dagger technique you spoke about."

She chuckled, her eyes momentarily glaring at him. Henry, in turn, openly stared at her, his gaze full of a palpable, simmering hate.

Janina wasn't sure if this was something to worry about or if the jaguar-kin simply disliked the teacher but not Alexander. 'Well, let's observe first,' she mused, hoping to see some drama.

"I am Ms. Mary Woolworth," she announced. "Branded as a traitor by my own household for marrying my former student instead of agreeing to some nonsensical arrangement. Now, I have several lovely children and no regrets." She chuckled, her cheery voice betrayed by the hate in her eyes. "Though, I will still be fair and impartial, as stated in my contract."

A murmur rippled through the room while Henry still stared at her, gripping the table edge with enough force to turn his hands white.

"Every territory has its quirks—rules, power plays, cultural oddities," she continued with a sly smile. "Here, we set those aside and discuss them openly—what they mean, why they are there, and what they do to us."

With a flourish and wave of her hand, the chalk started floating. She wrote the words [Literacy Class] in elegant script on the blackboard behind her.

"In this class, we'll explore different forms of literature—poems, novels, and essays. We'll dive into the nuances of style, grammar, and word choice, uncovering the deeper meanings behind texts and the motivations of characters."

The chalk continued to write while she addressed the class. After letting it sink in, she continued, "As such, politics, history, and culture will be contextualized, so while I see no problem for the commoners, I need to ask the nobles to be more open, or you will fail the class."

Something snapped inside Henry, making him interrupt her, sneering, "Oh? Will we also discuss the Count and Leonandras, criticize them, and even say negative things about their administration, which helped the poor undeservedly like those teachers?"

Ms. Woolsworth looked at him in surprise, then smirked. "If it isn't Henry of the Orchid household. Fancy seeing you here, given that students in this group usually have the [Literacy] skill at level ten, my dear."

Henry almost ripped a part of the table apart in anger. 'This is getting interesting,' eager to know how it would play out.

As they locked eyes, sparks flew between them. But Ms. Woolsworth sighed, "That's actually an excellent question. I didn't expect it from you," Janina heard Henry's teeth gnashing. "But Mr. Alexander made sure this school could do exactly that. We will also discuss Moorgrelian politics at some point, and everyone will be allowed to criticize them openly without fearing any repercussions."

'Alex really went through some trouble for this,' she frowned inwardly, remembering the intense letter exchanges between him and the Count. There had been plenty of screaming and frustration, but in the end, Alexander had managed to secure those exceptions—though not without caveats.

Alexander invoked a quirky theological law, putting the school under the protection of the Temple, using their Father's name for this ordeal. Because of this, a seed from the world tree, something every Temple had, was planted on school grounds to grow over hundreds of years—every school would need this, and they were expensive.

Janina snapped out of her thoughts as Ms. Woolsworth waved her hand again, making books float out of her pouch and gently soar around the classroom, landing softly before each student. "This is a collection of fairy tales penned by Mr. Alexander himself, rich with ethical and moral nuances." Her smile turned mischievous. "Since this school insists on merit, fairness, and openness above all, we will thoroughly review his book—as negative or positive as it may be."

A student whispered softly, caressing the book, looking at it in awe, "Too bad we can't keep it." The students' admiration for the books was evident in their gentle handling and reverent gazes.

Ms. Woolsworth's ears twitched. "Oh, but you can! These books are yours. Keep them, sell them, use them as doorstops—it's your choice."

Bored, Janina flipped through the pages, the scent of fresh paper filling her senses. 'I know these stories,' she remembered, having read them at least three times, enchanted by the narratives. 'But analyzing them does sound interesting,' she imagined in amusement, hoping to critique her brother at breakfast, making him pop a vein.

Ms. Woolsworth perched on the edge of her desk. "We only have fifteen minutes left today, so we'll read a short story. Then, you'll share your thoughts, and we'll discuss the deeper meanings in our next class. Turn to page 205, the story of the lion and the mouse. Who would like to begin?"

After a painfully slow reading of the story—each word dragged out as if it weighed a ton—the class discussion finally began. Janina felt her boredom escalating to dangerous levels. One by one, her classmates offered their interpretations of the fairy tale, each more baffling than the last.

'I thought Lorient was clueless, but this is a whole new level,' she mused, reconsidering her previous judgments about her sibling's intelligence.

"Um, so, the lion is like... big? And the mouse is, uh... small?" one student stammered, his eyes fixed somewhere near the ceiling as if searching for answers by divine intervention.

Another hesitantly said, "I think the mouse helps the lion because, well, uh... sometimes little things can, you know... do stuff better?"

Janina fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes, fearing they might actually get stuck that way. 'Brilliant observations, everyone,' she thought dryly. 'At this rate, we won't finish before the next full moon.'

A girl seated at the front timidly raised her hand. "Maybe the story is about friendship?" she suggested. "Because friends are... important?"

'Groundbreaking,' Janina internally applauded her sarcasm in full bloom. She began doodling with a subtle swirl of mana, sketching tiny lions and mice having a tea party in the margins of her notebook. 'Perhaps the lion represents my patience, and thorn the pencil I want to stab my neck with.'

She glanced over at Naza, leaning forward eagerly, hand raised high as if she might burst from enthusiasm. Janina arched an eyebrow. 'Am I the odd one out here?' She scanned the room: Henry was glaring daggers at Ms. Woolsworth, three broken pencils beside him, the fourth one already showing cracks. On the other hand, Lucifer was engrossed in the book, flipping through stories and jotting notes with enthusiasm.

Her gaze shifted to the other students, who seemed genuinely engaged, their brows furrowed in concentration. A pang of realization hit her. 'Maybe I'm the weird one.' She recalled the countless hours Alexander had spent teaching her to analyze texts, to see beyond the surface. An unexpected appreciation welled up for the efforts of her teachers and family.

Taking a quiet breath, Janina decided it was time to contribute. She raised her hand confidently. 'Well, if no one else is going to dive deeper, I suppose I'll have to.'

Ms. Woolsworth's eyes lit up as she noticed Janina's hand. "Yes, Janina?"

She stood up, smoothing her uniform, an arrogant smile gracing her face. "I believe—"

Just then, the bell rang loudly, signaling the end of the class. The abrupt sound startled her, and her confident expression shifted to mild annoyance. A few students chuckled softly, gathering their belongings with a rustle of papers and hushed whispers, leaving quickly for the following introductory class, 'I hate my life.'