* * *
Ranshel was momentarily speechless from sheer disbelief.
But there was no use retorting sarcastically now.
He had to persuade Zavad without provoking him.
Ranshel had to be the one to infiltrate the prayer gathering through the academy.
‘There must be a reason Danie chose me…’
If it didn’t matter who went, there’d be no reason to pick him specifically.
They could simply assign someone more experienced to Frey.
But Danie had gone out of his way to recommend Ranshel—the same man he’d clashed with in that alley, both shedding blood and locking eyes filled with murderous intent.
‘He chose someone capable of surviving.’
Only someone as skilled as a proven assassin could make it out of there alive.
Zavad, sensing the danger, opposed sending Ranshel, whom he considered incompetent.
Zavad also had some attachment to his servant—but more importantly, if Ranshel were captured and tortured, they could lose all their critical information.
Of course, Ranshel had already made up his mind.
If captured, he’d end his life before the torture began.
He was confident no one could stop his final blade.
Danie must have thought through all this when choosing him.
The Archbishop’s prayer gathering wasn’t some trivial event.
The risk was unavoidable.
But to Ranshel, that level of danger was hardly worth worrying about.
He knew exactly how important this was to Zavad.
If they left things alone, the Archbishop would use the prayer meetings to draw in followers and expand his power.
If he managed to overthrow the current Holy Father and seize control of the Grand Temple?
Frey would lose his status as Saint, the Empress—already under suspicion for her powers—would lose her grip on authority, and the Imperial faction supporting Zavad would collapse entirely.
Once the Imperial connection broke, Zavad would be left with nothing but his status as the second son of House Pomel.
He’d be at the mercy of Benjet Pomel, the long-standing villain threatening his position.
So Ranshel had no choice but to attend the academy.
He leaned in closer to Zavad and whispered:
“You told me to stay by your side for life.”
Zavad’s brow twitched.
“Young Master, you are destined to become the head of House Pomel. You can’t keep relying on an incompetent servant forever.”
Most likely, by then, I won’t be by his side anymore. Knowing that, I still had to lie for now.
Zavad seemed to be trying to gauge Ranshel’s true intentions.
Ranshel could feel his eyes tracing every detail of his face.
His skin prickled for no reason.
Before long, Zavad asked,
“You want to be useful to me?”
Of course. Ranshel smiled brightly.
“Helping you is the most important thing for me, Young Master.”
“…Because you need to be worth paying for?”
“…Exactly that.”
Zavad stared at Ranshel for a moment, then slowly closed his eyes.
“…Just gather the information you can. Don’t get yourself tangled up too deeply.”
“Yes, sir!”
Zavad’s permission was granted.
Frey let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Then it’d be best to finalize the enrollment process at the academy today.”
At Frey’s gesture, Danie immediately produced some documents written in ink.
It was clear they intended to wrap things up quickly before Zavad changed his mind.
Ranshel accepted the documents and asked,
“What does this say?”
“Let me see.”
Without hesitation, Zavad snatched the papers from Ranshel’s hand.
He carefully scanned the contents, then paused at one particular part.
“…Does this mean you’ll be staying in the dormitories during the training period?”
“It’s a building on the academy grounds. It’s really close to the dormitory you’ll be staying in during your enrollment. Much better than commuting from outside the school, don’t you think?”
Frey replied quickly.
Zavad frowned slightly as he looked up.
“Can I choose my own room?”
“If you let us know your preferences, we can request accommodations from the administrator.”
“No shared lodging. I want a single room.”
“…Understood, I’ll pass that along.”
Ranshel was mildly dumbfounded.
Even at Pomel Castle, he shared living quarters with other servants, so why the sudden pickiness now?
‘Well, having my own room would actually be convenient…’
It wasn’t worth arguing over.
Sometimes it’s better to just take the win.
Ranshel was curious about what was going through Zavad’s mind, but he didn’t ask.
The guy would only tell him to stop spouting nonsense anyway.
The process moved quickly.
Hans and Petro obtained external access passes so they could come and go as needed.
Zavad would stay in the student dormitory, and Ranshel in the lodging assigned for training.
It had been a while since they lived separately, but surprisingly, the dormitory and lodging were only a ten-minute walk apart.
Considering how massive the academy grounds were—you usually needed a carriage just to get from the gate to the buildings—the proximity was almost suspiciously convenient.
Judging by the location, it was probably an unofficial loophole nobles used to keep their personal attendants nearby.
All those pampered fools who couldn’t do anything by themselves were managing to attend boarding school just fine.
Though there were always the odd ones who could manage alone but still insisted on keeping their servants nearby.
“Try to show up earlier. You can’t be moving slower than your master.”
The moment Ranshel entered the room, Zavad started nagging.
Ranshel gestured toward the window, where the sun was only now rising, his expression one of false injustice.
“Can I just not come in the mornings? You wake up perfectly fine on your own, after all. I worry I might be ruining your independence by hovering around like this. Honestly, it’s probably better if I stay away in the mornings. I’ll come by to greet you in the evenings instead.”
“Stop talking nonsense and be here tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ranshel fussed over Zavad’s already pristine attire, pretending to straighten his clothes.
Zavad had always chosen and dressed himself, so there wasn’t much left for Ranshel to do.
“I’ll properly learn how to handle clothes, too.”
“Good. At least cram something useful into that head of yours.”
“I’ll also get whatever I can from my classmates.”
Zavad, who had been standing still while Ranshel fussed over him, suddenly brushed Ranshel’s hands away irritably.
“You’re already thinking of goofing off. Don’t waste your time gossiping with those other good-for-nothings. Learn properly from the instructors at least.”
“…But I’m training to infiltrate the monastery, right? I’ll probably be working with those people in the future. To get information, I need to build some connections first.”
“Who told you to get that close and dig for deep information? I told you to listen in just enough. Stop doing extra work no one asked for. Leave the schmoozing to that maid.”
Ranshel was genuinely starting to wonder what kind of person Zavad thought he was.
Did he believe Ranshel was so incompetent that even Danie would be better at everything…?
Zavad scowled at Ranshel’s sulking expression, then flicked his puffed-out cheek with a finger.
“…Pig.”
“What?”
“You’ve got no training today, right? I’ll be back after classes, so entertain yourself until then.”
Grabbing a book from the table, Zavad headed for the door.
Ranshel hurried after him, flustered.
“Young Master, breakfast?”
“I don’t need it.”
“Skipping breakfast stunts your growth, you know.”
“……”
Zavad shot him a glare but said nothing as he walked into the academic building.
Ranshel couldn’t follow him past that point—the security guards stationed there were no joke.
Ranshel paused for a moment and peeked inside.
Soft chatter could be heard from within.
Through the windows, he could glimpse students sitting at desks, preparing for class.
The ornate, sophisticated atmosphere still felt unfamiliar, but the mood was oddly familiar.
Before dropping out, he used to sit in places like that, too.
Smirking faintly, Ranshel turned away and kept walking.
There was someone he needed to find.
Looking around, Ranshel stopped a passerby and asked,
“Where can I find the delivery area?”
“Ah, over there. You’ll see the delivery wagons by that building.”
“Thank you.”
Bowing politely, Ranshel walked in the direction the person had pointed.
Wherever you are, there’s always someone delivering things.
The academy’s inspections might be intense, but as long as you had a valid pass, getting in wasn’t impossible.
The man sitting by the supply wagon climbed down when he saw Ranshel approaching.
Ranshel waved with a bright smile.
“Long time no see, big bro. Took you long enough.”
“You’ve got a lot to say for someone who dragged me all the way out here.”
Being a deliveryman was a useful cover—you could go almost anywhere.
It was one of Simon’s favorite tricks, too.
Simon, the third son of Nameless.
“You doing your job properly?”
Simon asked, feeding a carrot to the horse pulling the wagon.
“Of course. I’m sticking to the Young Master like glue, just like I was ordered.”
* * *
