I had a feeling Sun Tzu had also described war as a waste of national resources in similar terms in The Art of War. Weapons, equipment, and provisions were incredibly costly, and he’d written something along the lines of You’d better be sure whatever you’re getting out of this makes it worth it!
Wasn’t Sergei amazing? His way of thinking aligned with that of a strategist respected for over two thousand years.
To be fair, I also thought it was only logical. There were times war couldn’t be avoided. Sometimes, blindly calling for peace without facing reality was hopeless. Unlike Japan, the empire had land borders with its neighbors. If the need arose, it had to be able to strike without delay. However, fighting for honor, pride, or glory alone was misguided.
Being strong was cool. But that didn’t mean that you were automatically uncool if you weren’t.
Ah, I can’t formulate my thoughts properly. Whatever, I’ll just say it however it comes out!
“Your light mana was beautiful, and beauty is good. Your mana control is also impeccable, and I want everyone to see it because you bring pride to our class. Please, don’t belittle yourself anymore.”
“Lady Yulnova...” Yuri sounded moved.
“Besides, the other students with light mana might rejoice too when they see what you can do. Let’s all keep working hard so we can put together a wonderful show, yes?”
“Thank you... I’ll do my best!”
A few days later, Yuri did another demonstration for the rest of the class.
We’d made our classroom darker to see his performance better. Everyone was enraptured upon witnessing the delicate shifts and flickers of his light. In the end, he received a standing ovation. I thought unanimous approval would follow, but instead I was hit with an unexpected question:
“It was very beautiful, but are we really going to make the stage that dark? The spectators won’t be able to see the costumes or the backdrops...will they?”
The girl who’d just spoken up was a talented seamstress, part of the costume team. At her remark, others in charge of costumes, backdrops, and accessories gasped. The costume team seemed especially against it.
But I didn’t panic. Instead, I affixed a calm smile to my face.
“Thank you for pointing this out. To be honest, I’ve been giving this some thought, and I concluded that it would be a shame if the costumes, backdrops, and accessories you’re working so hard on were only on display for a few moments onstage. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but another class will be setting up a café and making special outfits for the servers. Compared to that, the stage costumes will be far and hard to see. That’s why I thought it’d be nice if visitors could see them up close. That way they’ll be able to take in all the details.”
My suggestion was for our actors to wear the costumes from the morning of the festival and walk around in them.
“If you’re asked why you’re wearing such a thing, you can say you’re going to be in a play. That way, you can advertise our play at the same time and attract more spectators. As for the backdrops and accessories, I was thinking of displaying them in our class until the end of the festival. If Lord Rey’s light helps make the play a success, I’m sure people will be curious about the props. Besides, many of you will invite your families. You’ll be able to take them to the classroom and personally show them everything you’ve made. That’ll be an occasion to create some fond memories, don’t you think?”
I’d been sitting on this idea since I’d heard that the girls of Mikhail’s class were making outfits for the servers.
This was another soft skill I’d picked up in my past life. The bigger the company you dealt with, the more likely you were to be hit with unexpected interferences. Sometimes, you found yourself in the middle of an internal influence battle between the general manager of the systems division and a random director of the same company. While you were inwardly screaming at them to handle their infighting another day, you still had to figure out ways to benefit both sides so they’d stop arguing and let you move on with the project...
At the time, those experiences had only stressed me out. I never would have thought what I learned would come in handy in another life!
The girls from the costume team loved my idea, and their eyes sparkled. The teams in charge of the backdrops and accessories also nodded.
Just like that, light magic officially became part of our show!
The student council, which also doubled as the executive committee of the festival, functioned very much like the student councils of my past world, with students voting to fill every position. Apparently, the method they used had been employed by the ancient Astrans to elect their parliament.
The student council organized both the festival and the ball held at the end of the second semester. In my past life, handling the school festival would have been the responsibility of a festival committee—a separate entity from the student council—so I imagined the members of the student council of this academy were busier than their Japanese peers.
The time they dedicated was worth it, though. The boys who belonged to the student council were often headhunted by government offices, while the girls could use it as a selling point on the marriage market. It was a rare occurrence, but some of the girls even managed to snatch jobs in government offices for themselves.
It was customary for titled students, already burdened with many responsibilities, to refrain from joining the student council. That was why Alexei wasn’t a member. The same went for Mikhail. Being an imperial prince was hard work, so he wouldn’t run for the council, even after his first year—or so I’d heard.
I’d come to submit documents and was about to hand them to a girl who looked like the secretary, when someone rose from his desk in the back to greet me personally.
“Welcome to the student council’s room, Lady Yulnova,” said Aristarkh Kroell, the president of the council.
It was my first time seeing him up close. His features were quite feminine and so harmonious that I couldn’t describe him as anything other than beautiful. Dark green hair framed his gentle, downturned green eyes, and a mole under one of them lent him a certain charm. His presence radiated kindness, the sort that invited people to confide in him. From what I’d heard, he was also skilled in martial arts and hailed from a prominent house. No wonder the girls in my class squealed over him.
Now that I’d finally met him in person, a little light bulb went off in my head. He might be one of the game’s male leads!
I didn’t really remember any of the romanceable characters besides Mikhail, but I knew they all had different hair colors. So far, I had identified four of them: Mikhail with blue hair, Nikolai with red, Renato with white, and Vladforen, the hidden lead, with black. Aristarkh’s green hair didn’t overlap with any of theirs.
“Is something the matter?” Aristarkh asked, a soft smile curling his lips.
His gentle voice brought me out of my thoughts. “No... I just felt a little guilty for making our president forgo his work to welcome me.”
“Please don’t worry. I’ve imposed on your brother several times, so this is the least I can do,” he replied, his tone as polite as his voice was soft.
I suddenly recalled the speech Alexei had given at the entrance ceremony. It felt like it’d been so long ago already.
“His Highness Mikhail has enrolled this year, and your brother speaking to him directly instead of someone like me is more appropriate,” Aristarkh added.
His strained smile suggested that this wasn’t his opinion but an order from the academy. I knew too well how it felt to dance at the mercy of higher-ups’ whims, so I sympathized with him.
I’d become good friends with Renato, another of the game’s love interests, so even if Aristarkh was one too, I saw no issue with befriending him. I didn’t think Ekaterina’s doom was tied to his route—probably. I really couldn’t say, but there were no connections I knew of.
“So, you’ve come to correct your class’s activities description for the brochure. Did you also want to request more time in the auditorium?”
The festival’s brochure would be ordered from a business with a printing press. Considering the era, printing likely came at a steep cost, but this was an academy for noble children. Unlike our play’s script, the school needed a large number of brochures, so outsourcing probably made sense from a cost-performance standpoint.
“No, we’ll make do with the time that was allocated to us,” I assured him. “I’ve corrected the script to make sure we’d be done in time.”
“Thank you. We get many requests for the auditorium, and some classes have very specific needs. Those who adhere to the schedule help a lot. Most ask for more time or for different time slots altogether because of their families’ availability...”
Aristarkh sounded relieved. Scheduling so many groups was already a headache, but constant adjustment requests must have had Aristarkh at the end of his rope. The class system probably forced him to accept some outrageous demands. With my status, if I’d insisted on more time, he’d have had no choice but to make it work somehow.
I understand your woes, President. I can’t count how many times I’ve tortured straw dolls in my mind while arguing with selfish clients!
But Aristarkh had no way to know the lady of a ducal house thought such things.
He let out a surprised hum after reading through the revisions I’d just submitted. “You’re researching the applications of light mana? That’s a direction none of the other classes have taken.”