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Chapter 303

Chapter: 303

I really wasn’t mistaken in my choice. Giving up on the competition and bowing my head was the right decision.

When I was Principal, the Ernesto Academy bowed down due to my personal karma, but thanks to that bowing, the students were able to receive teachings from Duke Marcilio. Isn’t that a wonderful gift for all of Yuben, gained at the expense of tarnishing the name of an old man?

“Seems like the descendants of Ernesto are quick to understand.”

Moreover, the Duke referred positively to the heroes of Yuben, calling us his descendants, even though we couldn’t match the tip of his toes. What an honor! The students seemed to share the same sentiment, their faces flushed and smiles stretching ear to ear.

No one blamed the mages for appearing overly spirited; it was hardly fitting for someone meant to maintain a tranquil demeanor. If I were younger, I’d probably look just like those students.

“The mages of the Empire and Yuben are separated by borders, but that doesn’t change the fact that we lead continental magic. The advancements of the other party spur on my competitiveness, and my competitiveness leads to our rivalry. Endless competition is what drives the progress of the continent.”

As the Duke gazed at the students, he smiled lightly and continued. Even though we were divided by borders and nationalities, we were comrades working toward the advancement of continental magic. Competition is natural, but even that competition would lead to the advancement of the continent and magic.

What wise words! It was all the more moving to see a pioneer in continental magic expressing such noble ideals. The future of the magic realm seems to be incredibly bright.

“Don’t think of the advice I’ve given you as everything. Just use it as a stepping stone to move forward.”

With those words, the Duke exited the classroom. I felt a little bittersweet. It was as if I were expelled from a state of abundant perfection.

But I couldn’t be consumed by that sense of loss. Normally, I wouldn’t even get a foot in that paradise; I had just heard the voice of the divine from within it. How could I be upset? The Duke called it a little stepping stone, but today’s teaching would be a lifelong milestone.

So, let’s not forget today. With this teaching as a foundation, there will come a day when we surpass the Imperial Academy. The Duke did say that competition is natural. Right now, we—no, I lost, but in the future, we will win.

“Excuse me. Are you Professor Kurt Shere?”

Just as this touching moment was about to fade, a young man in a black uniform approached me.

…A young man with black hair and dark eyes wearing a black uniform.

‘Is he from the Information Department?’

He’s not someone a mage wouldn’t recognize. Apart from being the head of the Empire’s Information Department, he’s also the Duke’s prospective husband.

‘What could this be about?’

I hoped it wasn’t a troublesome matter.

*

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—there was no natural disaster that caused an early end to the fair. Indeed, the students’ festival, filled with their enthusiasm, couldn’t just end in vain. That would be absurd.

Thus, I had been doing my best to stick around like a totem at our booth, but now I had to step away for a bit.

‘Kurt Shere.’

I hurriedly recalled the information crammed into my head.

The Principal of Ernesto Academy, a heavyweight in both the magical and educational realms of the United Kingdom of Yuben. It’s easier to think of him as the Yuben version of a Principal. He reportedly had quite the fiery temper back in the day and even had military experience when younger.

‘What a bother.’

And now, I had to go meet this guy. Honestly, I wasn’t thrilled. Getting out of the booth to wander around was one thing, but the reason for that should not be a negotiation with a foreigner I had never met before.

But what could I do? The Principal had earnestly requested it, and after hearing the circumstances, it sounded quite reasonable.

“Ernesto Academy intends to sell cookies separately from the auction.”

From the first statement, things sounded serious. To hold an auction out of concern for confusion, and then supply cookies to a foreigner—what a twist!

Of course, the Principal wouldn’t engage in pointless foolishness, so I silently listened. He quickly explained the reasoning.

“The funds available to the academy and those available to the nobility are on different levels. The former must squeeze every last cent from a tight budget, leaving room for limitations.”

The Principal’s words, coming from another Principal, were rather convincing.

“There’s no need to consider the circumstances of each participant in the auction, but Ernesto Academy needs to swallow its pride and come to the Empire. Given that we’ve already tarnished our pride by arriving here, we must maximize our gains to maintain a smooth relationship.”

“That sounds complicated.”

Hearing that made me realize how tricky the world of mages could be. Isn’t it a common rule that pushing down someone who has lowered their pride would just drain their soul? It seems that mages are used to interacting regularly, wanting to avoid that kind of one-sided trashing.

“So, we plan to give some cookies but will receive something other than money in return.”

The Principal’s subsequent remarks were intriguing. Since the nobility would throw around gold coins at the auction, Ernesto Academy should claim something only a mage could provide.

For example, seminars gathering continental mages, scholarly disputes, collaborative research, archaeological explorations—all sorts of things where Ernesto Academy could make concessions. His ideas flowed so naturally, it seemed like a longstanding desire built up over years of being Principal.

“A concession is a matter of utility, isn’t it?”

“The other side already indicated they want the Duke’s teachings and cookies. Since they came to the Empire for this, it’s basically the same as saying they’re willing to give up on all else.”

I figured I would let it slide since I didn’t fully grasp the workings of mages. If that’s what the expert said, it must be true.

“But it would be difficult for a mage to directly mention concessions, and if two Principals were to meet during this time, it would only draw attention. I would appreciate it if you could meet in the capacity of the Information Department head overseeing the auction.”

If it weren’t for the last part, I would’ve welcomed the idea. What do you mean, auction overseer? I’m just a figurehead for the pastries club, lending my name to that role.

Honestly, I still found it strange. This isn’t a teenager’s sensitive soap opera; there’s no way a mage can’t throw concessions around just because of a fleeting dignity. If this diplomatic rhetoric were any more convoluted, it would be a disease.

Fortunately, I had a high level of trust in the Principal. If he asked for my involvement, it must be a genuinely tricky issue.

“Excuse me. Are you Professor Kurt Shere?”

So here I am. My reason for interacting with a foreign dignitary comes down to cookies, which is a bit disheartening.

“I’m in charge of overseeing this auction due to my connection with Duke Marcilio, and I wanted to greet you to have a satisfactory conversation.”

“Interesting words.”

At least it seemed like we might have a smooth dialogue, so that was a relief.

The profits from the fair would be split between the academy and the clubs. Though it might seem odd that the academy gets half of what the clubs earned, it’s just a tradition. Nobles aren’t particularly fixated on the money made at booths. They say it’s just a way to show gratitude for the academy’s teachings.

For that reason, each club focuses on their booth’s performance rather than the profits themselves—like the pastries club did last year.

But that has changed now.

“Seven pieces sold for the price of 12 gold coins each, sold to Count Pellan.”

“Wow.”

The auction finally began on the last day of the fair. I attended as the auction overseer, barely holding back my applause. Had there been no one watching, I might have cheered loudly.

Though not an official member or advisor, the Duke—acting as an honorary member of the pastries club—was selling cookies from our results. Given that, the logical conclusion was to treat the auction revenues as club income from the booth. The Duke had said he wasn’t interested in profits, so this might have simply been a compromise to avoid any awkwardness.

As a result, the pastries club’s profits skyrocketed. The frenzy of the auction was at a level that undercut any semblance of what’s reasonable, with figures that were mind-bogglingly high, perhaps rivaling or exceeding my yearly salary, freely being thrown around. Even with a decent amount of stock, the prices were wild.

“More expensive than me.”

Feeling bitter, I gazed at the participants and caught sight of Kurt Shere, who looked weary.

Luckily, the conversation with him ended smoothly, allowing Ernesto Academy to secure a reasonable quantity of cookies. However, seeing the auction unfold now left me dumbfounded. If we hadn’t made prior arrangements, Ernesto Academy would have to contend in that mad auction to win with money.

Of course, the more dumbfounded I got, the more thankful they’d be to us for proposing those prior deals. Hold on to that sentiment, you foreigner.

“Oh, Brother! Are we really getting half of that?”

Just as I was about to shift my eyes back to the auctioneer, Louise, who had come to watch the auction, asked with a trembling voice.

Yeah, I bet you’re surprised. How could anyone stay sane watching an insane auction where each piece is going for around 10 gold coins or so? Especially someone like Louise, who hails from the baron family, far removed from wealth.

“Can’t we just give it all to our teacher?”

With a voice that was on the verge of tears, I patted Louise’s head. Was she overwhelmed by the sheer amount, or was she just not greedy? Either way, her adorable question hit me.

“Our executive manager. The club budget is going to increase, which is great.”

“No, it’s not great!”

Seeing Louise’s pout made me chuckle. Sorry, but that’s money you’re responsible for managing. The Duke won’t accept it any other way.

“Don’t think too negatively. It wouldn’t be like this without the Gold Duke not showing up. Had he been here, each item would’ve likely gone for five times the price.”

Watching from the sidelines, Ainter smiled gently as he tried to console Louise.

Well, I’m not entirely sure if that’s comforting, but at least it seemed he meant well. The current situation isn’t the worst outcome; just don’t be too sad about it.

“Five… times…”

Sadly, that attempted comfort didn’t reach Louise. The horrific figure of five times had imprinted itself in her brain, leaving her dazed.

But it’s true. If the Gold Duke had descended upon that auction, the other competitors would have been wiped out with sheer financial force.

“Come to think of it, isn’t it odd? The Gold Duke is quite famous in Yuben, yet he doesn’t participate in events like this?”

“They didn’t even send a representative. It’s like they’s completely washed their hands of it.”

As I overheard whispers from other club members, they expressed their confusion over the Gold Duke forfeiting such a chance despite the prized limited series of the Duke’s special doping cookies.

‘Could he have just given up?’

While the members might be oblivious, the Gold Duke hadn’t given up at all. In fact, he was trying to contact me as quickly as possible.

—“Head of the Information Department. I’ve heard intriguing news that the Duke is making some fun products.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

—“I’ll make sure the prices are more than satisfactory, so just send me 30 of them.”

With that contact, he skipped the cumbersome auction process and directly slotted cash. The price was indeed generous enough to leave me in awe.

I certainly don’t feel guilty at all. Isn’t it only natural for the big shots to live comfortably?

Besides, had the Gold Duke personally shown up at the auction, he wouldn’t have settled for just 30 laps; he would have taken every last cookie. So it’s somewhat fortunate for the others, I suppose.

“Sold to Count Stinell for the price of 14 gold coins each, six pieces.”

Seeing the crowd happily purchasing made me feel good too.


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