Ehan kept walking. The academy was right in front of his eyes, the view was breath taking the academy was like a palace itself. but...

  The gates were closed.

  'As I expected.'

  He looked around and noticed a small street stall nearby, where a middle-aged man was arranging dishes on the front display.

  'Let’s ask him when the academy will open.'

  Ehan walked up to the stall. Before he could say anything, the man glanced at him and spoke first.

  "You’ve come a little early, kid. The academy isn’t open yet."

  "You’re right… Can you tell me when it will open?"

  The man turned his head toward the large clock tower at the center of the crossroads and replied,

  "It should open in about 20 minutes, if I’m guessing right."

  Ehan sighed and sat on the wooden stool placed near the front of the stall.

  “Damn it, I need to wait here then...” he muttered.

  The man resumed arranging the remaining dishes. After a moment, he looked at Ehan and said, “Why don’t you try some food from my stall? I can cook something to your preference.”

  Ehan thought for a second. He's got time… and starting to feel hungry too anyway. He looked aup at him and asked,

  “You got some meat in your shop?”

  “Yeah, I do. Just tell me what you want.”

  “Just make anything you like with the meat. I’ll eat.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The man turned to his stove, twisting the knob on the small gas burner until a steady flame came to life. He pulled out a few ingredients from behind the stall—a slab of marinated lamb, chopped onions, diced peppers, some herbs, and a small bowl of spiced butter.

  He tossed the meat onto a hot iron skillet, and a loud sizzle echoed as the aroma of seared lamb filled the air.

  The man took his time in making the dish and in the end, he sliced of lemon and handed the plate to Ehan.

  “Here. It’s called Herbed Flame Lamb. Old recipe of mine,” he said with a slight grin.

  Ehan took the plate, the warmth radiating from it comforting in the cool morning air.

  “Thanks,” he said, eyeing the food. “Smells good.”

  “You’ll like it,” the man replied confidently, already cleaning his skillet for the next customer.

  Ehan dug in, the first bite making his eyes widen slightly.

  'Not bad at all....'

  "It's good," Ehan said, taking another bite. "No, it's very good. Thanks for the dish."

  The man grinned. "I knew you'd like it, kid. What's your name, by the way?"

  "Ehan."

  "Ehan..." The man paused, thinking for a moment. "I feel like I've heard that name before, but I can't quite remember where."

  Ehan finished the food just as a number of other students began gathering near the academy's entrance. Most of them looked around his age.

  Some wore the fine clothing of lesser noble families. A few stood out—clearly elites, likely from one of the Five Great Families. Others were dressed more simply—commoners, and even a few with markings that signified slaves.

  Ehan reached into his pocket, pulled out some coins, and handed them to the man.

  "Thanks again for the dish. I should get going now."

  Ehan slipped into the growing crowd, blending in with the commoners and lesser nobles like water merging into a river.

  Back at the stall, the man was still lost in thought, placing the coins in his drawer as the name Ehan echoed faintly in his head.

  "Ah, whatever. Must be some noble kid," he muttered to himself.

  He picked up the folded newspaper lying on the side and began casually flipping through it. As his eyes skimmed over a headline about the Imperial Family, something made his heart skip a beat.

  "Ehan A-Arian...? Th-The Lords?" he read aloud, his voice cracking slightly.

  The newspaper trembled in his hands. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as his eyes widened in disbelief. He gripped the paper tighter, staring at the name printed in bold.

  He had been running this small stall for years, feeding students and wanderers alike. But never—not even in his wildest dreams—did he think he’d serve a meal to someone from that family.

  The Arian family.

  And not just anyone—Ehan, the son of the head of the family, the future king… the blood of Alexander Arian himself.

  On the other side, Ehan walked quietly among the crowd. As the group neared the academy’s massive gates, they slowly creaked open. Everyone stepped forward in unison—Ehan too, tucked neatly between the commoners, unnoticed.

  Ahead of them marched the lesser nobles, walking with practiced pride. And in front of them were three students who stood out sharply—well-dressed and poised unmistakably from the Five Great Noble Families.

  Two were male, one was female, all radiating the kind of presence only prestige could give.

  In total, around forty fresh faces entered the academy that day—yet none of them knew that walking humbly in their midst was the son of the imperial family's head.

  As they stepped into the academy grounds, a man approached them. He wore a tight-fitted vest, black pants, and leather boots—clearly staff member. He stopped in front of the group and scanned them once.

  "You all freshers," he said. "Follow me. I’ll take you to your designated area."

  He moved with confidence, like a tour guide well-versed in his route. The students followed him as he guided them around the exterior of the main building.

  He pointed toward the separate structures behind the academy’s central hall—each a dedicated facility. There was a massive training battlefield, wide and dusty, ready for sparring and practice.

  Farther along were the boarding houses—one for girls, another for boys—large dorm-like buildings, all situated within the academy walls, creating a self-contained world. He took us there and told us to keep our stuff in our rooms, that were assigned to us.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  We were given, our room keys back then only when we gave the admission test, 2 days ago.

  After the exterior tour, the guide led them into the heart of the main building—a towering structure with arched halls and stone interiors.

  He brought them into a large hall, designed like a lecture room in a university. Rows of seating curved around a wide central platform.

  "This will be your class for now. Settle down here. Your first teacher will be here shortly," he said, before turning and walking off without another word.

  As the students began finding their seats and settling into the new atmosphere, Ehan quietly picked a spot in the last row, blending in like a shadow among the crowd.

  Soon after, a figure stepped into the room. At first glance, she didn’t seem much different from the students—average height, dressed in a plain white outfit. And was very beautiful. Her short red hair framed her pointed ears—an elf.

  She held a book in one hand, lazily flipping through the pages. Everyone assumed she was just another student—until she stepped up to the lecture stand, let out a yawn, and muttered in a somewhat irritated tone:

  "Good morning, everyone. I’m Viola—your history teacher."

  The class froze for a second before the murmurs began.

  "What? A teacher?"

  "Wait… she’s an elf?"

  "She’s my height—how is she even a teacher?"

  "Yeah, where’s her qualification, I waana see it?"

  The students’ voices filled the room in disbelief and confusion.

  Viola closed her eyes for a moment, rubbed her temples, and then said in a cold, razor-sharp voice:

  "You all—shut the hell up. Can’t you brats show a little respect to your teacher?"

  The room went silent instantly.

  She took a slow step forward and mumbled under her breath, "These Freshers..."

  Then she raised her voice again, sharp and clear, "Listen up, you fresh shits. I might not look old to you, but I am a qualified teacher. Yes, I’m an elf. And if any of you have a problem with that, take it up with the imperial family—they’re the ones who passed the law allowing anyone to teach if they’re qualified."

  No one dared respond. Her eyes, calm yet piercing, and the firm edge in her tone made it crystal clear—she wasn't just some fake. She had authority, experience… and zero tolerance for nonsense.

  "And if you still need convincing," she added, smirking slightly, "we elves live a hell of a lot longer than you human asses. I’m not some teenager like you all—I’m forty-five years old."

  No one dared to speak. Viola walked leisurely across the floor, her sharp eyes scanning the students as she moved. Eventually, she stopped at the leftmost corner, where a boy sat quietly.

  "You," she said, her voice firm. "Stand up and introduce yourself."

  The boy immediately rose to his feet. He had short hair and wore a simple shirt and trousers—clearly a commoner. With a respectful tone, he spoke,

  "Miss Viola, my name is Andres Nim. I'm a commoner, and I'm here to learn the way of the sword at Strom Viel Academy."

  Viola gave him a short nod and gestured for him to sit back down. Andres did as instructed.

  Then, without pause, she turned to the student beside him. "Your turn. Introduce yourself."

  And so, one by one, the introductions continued.

  When it was the turn of one of the three elite nobles from back then who were in front of everyone, he stood up before Viola even instructed him to. He had black medium length hair and a pretty face.

  Draped in an expensive, well-fitted coat, shirt and trousers made of fine material, he carried himself with an air of importance.

  "Miss, my name is Einar Ragnulf, from the Ragnulf branch family, 8th in line. It is a pleasu—"

  Thud!

  A piece of chalk flew through the air and smacked him squarely on the forehead.

  Viola stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her expression unimpressed.

  "You little shit. Did I ask you to stand up?"

  Einar flinched, rubbing his forehead. "Uh... No, Miss." He quickly added, "I'm sorry, Miss."

  Viola clicked her tongue. "Keep this in your little heads, you punks. In my class, you don’t move your asses until I tell you to. Got it?"

  "Yes, Ma’am!" the class responded in unison.

  "Now, let's get back to where I was…" Viola muttered, rolling her shoulders.

  Meanwhile, another elite noble, sitting in the row behind Einar, patiently waited for his turn.

  When Viola finally called on him, he stood up with a composed demeanor. Like Einar, he was dressed in expensive, finely tailored clothing. He has Short Grey haired and sharp jaw he had along with a good height.

  "Good morning, Miss Viola. I am Cedric Throne, younger brother of the head of the Throne Family. It’s my pleasure to be in this academy."

  Viola raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh, Callesta’s younger brother, huh?" She let out a small chuckle before waving a hand dismissively. "Alright, you can sit."

  The introductions continued. Eventually, the last of the three elite nobles stood up—the girl.

  She wore a long overcoat made from expensive fabric, its edges adorned with intricate detailing. Beneath it, a knee-length skirt and a well-fitted shirt completed her refined yet authoritative look.

  She stood with a poised expression and introduced herself. "Miss Viola, I am Lena Valois, from the 6th in-line branch of the Valois family. I’m pleased to be here."

  Viola rubbed her chin, her eyes briefly scanning Lena before she murmured to herself, "Hmm, the Valois family’s 6th in line branch…"

  Then, with an exaggerated yawn, she waved her hand again. "Take your seat."

  As Lena sat down, Viola glanced at the class, her lips curling into a smirk. As she think– 'Looks like we got some interesting kids this year.'

  The introduction continued until it was finally Ehan’s turn. Sitting in the last row, he had remained unnoticed until Viola pointed directly at him.

  "You, last-row brat. The one in the corner with the long ponytail—introduce yourself."

  '...Wills, I’m only doing this for you. Otherwise, I had no plans engaging in this academy with these kids.' Ehan thought to himself.

  Unlike Einar, Cedric and Lena from the 5 Great Nobels, Ehan’s attire was far from extravagant. He wore simple, somewhat rugged clothes—an old long overcoat that looked cheap, paired with trousers and a plain white shirt that lacked any sign of wealth. He blended in completely with the commoners, a stark contrast to the elite nobles who had introduced themselves before him.

  Standing up, he smirked slightly before speaking in a calm, confident tone.

  "Good morning, Miss Viola. My name is Ehan Arian, from the head of the Arian Family. I’m very pleased to be here at Strom Viel Swords Academy."

  The moment Ehan uttered Arian, the entire hall fell into an eerie silence.

  For a few seconds, no one reacted—until the whispers started.

  "D-Did he just say Arian?"

  "No way... H-He’s from the Imperial Family?"

  "The son of Alexander Arian? That Ehan Arian?"

  "W-Wasn't he training to be a mage?"

  "What is he doing at a sword academy?

  Einar, Cedric and Lena turned around, some with wide eyes, others with skeptical expressions. A few lesser nobles swallowed nervously, while the commoners and slaves stiffened in their seats.

  Einar and Cedric exchanged glances, their brows furrowing. Lena, however, tried to be composed, but slight discomfort could be seen, her sharp gaze locked on Ehan, as if trying to analyze him.

  Viola, who had been watching with mild interest, smirked and rested her chin on her hand.

  "Oh? The Arian family's future head?" She clicked her tongue and chuckled. "And here I thought you were just another street rat."

  Some students flinched at her blunt words, but Ehan only smirked in return, unfazed.

  Viola tilted her head. "I guess even the mighty Arian family sends their kids here now? What happened, little lord? Did Alexander ran out of mages at home?"

  'This mf teacher… Living off my funding and yet showing talking like that to me?...'

  Ehan sighed, then smirked slightly before speaking. "I could ask you the same question, Miss Viola..."

  He paused, locking his intense, critical gaze on her.

  "Shouldn’t an elf like you be deep in the forest, worshipping nature and trees? What happened, Running out of trees? Let me ask what happened to your...Elf Queen, Alva?"

  Viola’s expression shifted—her eyes widened in shock, and a flicker of anger crossed her face at the mention of Elf Queen.

  Ehan didn’t stop. His voice remained calm, but his words were sharp.

  "Oh, my apologies, Miss. I forgot… She passed away without naming a successor, didn’t she? And your tribe fell into chaos for the successor's race. Killing each other. Tell me, who was it again that came begging to Devin Arian asking to protect their tribe around hundred years ago?"

  He leaned back slightly, his smirk deepening.

  "Ah, yes… Siv. An elder elf, wasn’t he? I assume, as a history teacher, you’d be quite familiar with that chapter of your tribe’s past."

  Viola’s jaw tightened. Her fingers curled slightly as she processed his words. She did know. She knew very well the history of her people—the downfall of their last queen, the internal conflict that followed, and how Siv had sought refuge under Devin Devin's time while he was unifying the land of nobels.

  A few students exchanged glances, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

  Viola took a step forward, anger flashing in her eyes, but then she took a very deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. After a moment, she spoke in a low, dangerous tone.

  "I’ll let you go this time, Ehan. But remember this—if you ever bring up my tribe again, it will be the last day you see this world."

  Ehan, unfazed, leaned back into his seat. "I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Viola. Likewise, don’t speak ill of my family, and I’ll keep your tribe out of our conversations."

  The tension in the room was thick. Some students held their breath, unsure whether the elf teacher would strike back, while others stole glances at Ehan, realizing he wasn’t just some commoner dressed in cheap clothing.

  Viola turned abruptly, facing the blackboard. Her grip on the chalk was tight, but after a moment, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

  "Ehan… Arian… That dickhead is really different from the others," she murmured under her breath, barely audible.

  Shaking her head, she focused on the board, chalk scratching against the surface as she started writing.

  "Alright, listen up, freshers. Let’s see how much history you really understand."

  Despite her composed demeanor, a thought lingered in her mind.

  ‘This year’s batch… They’re really something else...Especially that Arian kid…’

  Extra :

  The Admission test is held every year at all major cities, and In the Admission test. Which is nothing but a type of interview, where some staff members of the Sword academy look up and examine the child, by asking him question or asking him why he wants to learn at Strom Viel and etc, etc...

  And in that test Ehan, showed up as a normal commoner student. While some Nobels came there, in royal Carriages and with guards. Ehan didn't. And he didn't even used his full name, while interview. And the Arian family didn't made it public that time, that Ehan has came back from Selucion training. So no one knew he was there, or didn't suspect that he might be from Imperial family. And Ehan was successful in it, he passed.

  And after two days, when Ehan was on his way to Strom Viel, the Arian family made it public that Ehan has returned, and that was the newspaper headlines that the old man (owner of small food stall in campus) was reading.