“Outside the Admissions Office of Nineveh.”
“Haah…”
The Head of Admissions, sitting in his role as the overall supervisor of the office, couldn’t help but yawn, his mouth wide open as he fought against boredom. He looked so careless that it seemed like a fly might just fly in, but the person yawning, the Head of Admissions, didn’t care in the slightest. After all, who was there to see him? What did it matter if he yawned or not?
If an uninformed person saw him, they might think he was lounging about all day in a sweet job, but the reality was a bit different.
Just about two weeks prior, he had felt as if 24 hours were hardly enough, living through days so busy that he hardly had time to catch his breath.
He was currently seated in the Admissions Office, with the title of Head of Admissions. His main task was to facilitate the admission process for those wishing to enter Nineveh, providing consultations according to the established procedures.
While it was a desolate place with not a single person passing by at the moment, just a month ago, it had been overflowing with people peering in to see if their child could gain admission to Nineveh, barely allowing for a moment of respite.
Not only that, but there had also been people scouring for scholarship or sponsorship options to cope with the astronomical admission fees and tuition of Nineveh, vendors hoping to establish connections with the nobility or upper class whose children were planning to enroll, and parents fuming over why their ‘prodigy’ had failed the admission trials.
All sorts of humanity had converged here, each one trying to assert their worth, causing the Head of Admissions’ blood pressure and stress levels to soar, resulting in handfuls of hair being pulled from his scalp.
Although currently, there were no signs of life, and it felt emptier than a mouse hole, the tranquility and monotony he was enjoying came at the cost of many hairs lost from his scalp. And according to the law of equivalent exchange, those hairs would likely never return to him.
Hence, he didn’t think for a moment that he was leading a charmed life. If someone were to offer to return his lost hair in exchange for not receiving a salary, he would accept the offer without hesitation.
Because while money could be earned again, hair could not be bought even with money.
So, the Head of Admissions was staring dully at the sky and yawning, as he usually did.
After all, it didn’t seem likely that there would be a visitor today, let alone a mouse showing its face. Perhaps he should try sneaking out early without the Director noticing? After all, getting caught wouldn’t seem to come with much loss. Sitting here continuously might mean losing even more hair by next year…
However, very unfortunately, it seemed today was not the right day for him to attempt to leave early. A figure was approaching, a presence that had been nonexistent until just a moment ago.
“Excuse me.”
Upon hearing that, the Head of Admissions quickly flicked his eyes to assess the entire appearance of the visitor.
This was a type of occupational hazard for him. He had to evaluate the visitors coming to the office and act accordingly.
The person who entered the Admissions Office was a young man with black hair and black eyes.
He appeared to be in his late teens. Depending on the angle, he might look youthful, yet mature, making it hard to determine his exact age.
In terms of his overall attire, to be honest, it looked shabby. Compared to the finely dressed nobles who had been rushing in and out just two weeks prior, he seemed dressed in rags.
No matter how one looked at it, he didn’t appear to be the scion of a wealthy or powerful household. Of course, unless he had some strange hobby of deliberately dressing shabby.
“Based on experience, there was a 99% chance that in such cases, the individual was either a vendor or a lowlife. Normally, he would have chased the young man out without a second thought.
However.
‘…It’s different, something is different.’
The Head of Admissions, having hosted numerous nobles and even spoken boldly in front of royalty, felt a primal instinct ringing alarm bells in him.
He must not be rude to this young man. This young man was certainly not someone so trivial that he could be dismissed.
‘Why?’
As if a prophecy had flashed through his mind, the Head of Admissions furrowed his brow. He had seldom experienced this kind of feeling when meeting any individual before; why was he feeling this way upon seeing a young man dressed so shabby?
While he pondered this, the eyes of the Head of Admissions met the young man’s gaze. A rare sight on the continent, his jet-black eyes resembled the darkness of a moonless night.
‘Eyes.’
It was then that he realized. From the moment the young man stepped into the office until now, he had never once flinched or averted his gaze.
As a rule, humans are territorial creatures. Just as wild animals tend to adopt familiar places as their ‘territory’ and shy away from venturing beyond, humans instinctively feel wary and intimidated when confronted with something new outside their comfort zones.
This was an unavoidable truth, tied deeply to human instinct.
Yet, occasionally, very rarely, there appear individuals who defy this norm.
Rather than being at the mercy of instinct, they suppress their natural urges with a steel-like rationality, dominating their surroundings.
‘Pendragon’s young lady.’
The Head of Admissions involuntarily conjured an image of a girl in his mind. She appeared like a doll, stunningly beautiful, yet at the same time cold, with indifferent eyes that held no expectations for the world around her.
Her very existence radiated an abstract aura, as if she were born to reign over others.
He shuddered, recalling the Pendragon young lady’s piercing gaze when he met her on the day of the entrance ceremony.
In terms of time, it was less than a second—a mere instant. However, he would never forget the chills and the sense of dread he felt then.
‘He resembles her. That person.’
Despite the lack of similarities in gender, appearance, or physique, the Head of Admissions found himself thinking of the Pendragon young lady when he looked at the young man.
His dignified expression, his upright posture, and the angular elegance that seemed to embody propriety—all intangible qualities that made up his current self were strikingly similar to those of the Pendragon young lady.
There was no evidence, merely a series of conjectures, but the Head of Admissions did not doubt his instincts. His intuition, particularly attuned in this area, had never failed him before.
— Again, again! He bent at the waist. Didn’t I tell him? Bending too much makes a person look servile. I emphasized that the waist should always maintain a 95-degree angle. Has he already forgotten? And his feet were misaligned again. His right arm should be three centimeters further away…
‘Really annoyingly loud. I feel even more confused because of you!’
Of course, he had no idea that the young man’s mind was busy with the Pendragon young lady lecturing him endlessly about etiquette.
‘I haven’t heard any news of such a young man from the Pendragon family…’
Could he possibly be a distant relative? Or perhaps connected through kinship?
He opened the genealogies stored in his mind regarding the nobles but couldn’t trace the origins of the young man at all. All he could ascertain was that the young man was somehow intertwined with the Pendragon young lady or the Pendragon dukedom.”
“…What brings you here?”
Since the regular customers frequenting this place were all notable figures, it had become a habit to speak respectfully. However, at this moment, the Head of Admissions was unable to think of such complex calculations and opened his mouth in the most polite tone he could muster.
“I came to enroll at Nineveh.”
At the young man’s words, the Head of Admissions blinked in surprise.
“I apologize, but currently, it is not the enrollment period. The application period ended two months ago, and the entrance ceremony was already held two weeks ago. There are no exceptions. Even if you were from the royal family, you wouldn’t have the right to force your way into Nineveh. If you wish to enroll, you will have to wait until next year…”
There are occasionally individuals like this. For reasons unknown, they wait idly until the application period closes and then return much later to boldly declare their desire to enroll.
Those who make such ludicrous requests are often individuals of powerful standing, living in a world far removed from that of ordinary people.
What? The enrollment period is chaotic due to the throngs of applicants? Then couldn’t they simply come later to enroll? Rules don’t allow for that? What absurdity! How could anything be impossible? If I say it can be done, it will be done—why is there so much talk? Do you think you’re that important?
Yet, no matter how important they may think they are, they cannot enroll in Nineveh without following the rules.
Nineveh is renowned across the Empire, indeed the entire continent, as one of the finest educational institutions.
To maintain that illustrious reputation, all rightful heirs to the throne have themselves attended Nineveh, and it has been strictly forbidden for those without talent to gain admission through influence.
Even for members of the royal family, there are no exceptions. This decree comes directly from the imperial household.
“Is that so?”
Despite the Head of Admissions’ polite refusal, the young man maintained a calm expression without any indication of change, as if he had anticipated such a response from the beginning.
“Yes, I apologize. This is a command directly issued by His Imperial Majesty, so there’s nothing I can do—”
“Is there truly no exception?”
At the young man’s words, the Head of Admissions sensed something unusual in his reaction.
The young man’s response was not one of displeasure at the refusal from the Head of Admissions.
It was more of a puzzled reaction—could it really be that he wasn’t aware?
“I believe there is an exception regarding admission to Nineveh.”
“…An exception?”
What was he talking about? He had been the Head of Admissions here for over twenty years. For someone like him to be unaware of an exception, well, that was something to make a passing dog laugh…
Ah.
There was indeed one exception. One specific circumstance under which one could enroll in Nineveh without taking the entrance examination.
In all his time working here, indeed in his entire life, he had thought he would never see that exception occur.
That exception was none other than—
“Are you serious…?”
“Yes, indeed.”
The young man, with an expression unchanged since entering, turned toward the Head of Admissions.
“I wish to exercise my right to special admission as a direct descendant of the Founder of Nineveh, one of the Seven Heroes.”
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