Youngest 132
by Cristae132
Havan gave the order. I hid behind my picture book and swept a glance around.
“What are you waiting for? I told you to bring the pen!”
“All right…”
Resigned, I answered quietly and stood up.
Then, moving slowly, I picked up the pen and turned around. Heading straight to Havan’s desk, I dumped out his pencil case with a crash.
“What do you think you’re doing?! You crazy? Touching other people’s things?!”
What a splendid self-introduction.
“You said to bring you a pen.”
“Not my pen! Hey, that’s really expensive… That’s a real jewel!”
I picked up the pen that, at a glance, looked the most valuable. Then, ever so slowly, I approached Havan and held it out.
“Here, I brought it.”
“You little—! Hand it over!”
As Havan reached for it, I let the pen drop onto his palm. Since I had already unscrewed the cap, red ink splattered all over his hand.
“Oh, sorry. I’m a bit shaky, you see…”
Tap. I watched the jeweled pen hit the floor, raising my eyebrows into an apologetic arch.
“Really, I’m sorry…”
“Why you—!”
Seeming anxious about his obviously expensive pen, Havan quickly bent down to snatch it up.
“You little brat!”
I’d stalled him long enough—any moment now…
Just as the infuriated Havan was about to pounce, it happened.
“What’s all this commotion?”
He arrived.
With a rattling of the door, Yuliophe entered, brow furrowed.
“Is this a fight? Really now.”
“No, Professor! She— Ru… Ru, whatever her name is! She messed with my stuff!”
Seizing his chance, Havan complained to Yuliophe.
“What are you talking about? Havan, you were the one bullying Zerdin!”
Sortie couldn’t take it any longer and spoke up. The girls around us quietly murmured, Yeah, that’s right! in agreement.
With a calm look, I lightly brushed the note off Zerdin’s desk, letting it fall to the floor.
Yuliophe bent down and picked up the note.
“Did you write this, Havan?”
With the professor’s brow deeply knit, Havan hesitated and retreated.
“N-no! I don’t know!”
“…But the color of the ink on this note matches the stain on your hand, Havan.”
“Well, I mean, that’s…”
A short sigh escaped the professor.
“Disrupting the camp earns you demerits. Even if it’s only ten days, academy rules still apply during camp. Now, if the person at fault apologizes, I’ll let it slide, just this once…”
“A commoner dared to defy me!”
“Havan Abellus. Twenty demerits. At our academy, it is forbidden to insult others by citing your own class.”
Despite his fatigue, Yuliophe’s voice was firm, and Havan shrank back. His angry, labored breathing filled the space.
“Once we’re outside the academy’s walls, they’ll all be groveling before me…”
“Havan Abellus. Another twenty demerits. You’re now in the lead toward a forced expulsion at 100 points. Impressive progress.”
“Damn…”
Nothing would disgrace his family more than a forced expulsion.
Havan finally grasped that, and his face twisted with frustration as he fell silent.
“Any more disruptions and I’ll add a bonus of sixty points at once.”
Cough, cough. Yuliophe opened another drink and turned away.
“All right. Back to your seats.”
Thud.
The boy gave my shoulder a hefty shove as he passed.
I shrugged it off and took my seat without concern.
‘So this is what it’s like to fight with classmates.’
A novel experience, indeed.
I’d rarely ever argued with anyone.
Honestly, when survival itself was difficult, who had time to pick fights? When there was conflict, I found it easier to just ignore it.
‘But Havan… You idiot.’
I opened my book, feeling Havan’s searing glare on my back.
‘The person I helped wasn’t Zerdin—it was you.’
A sigh slipped from my lips.
As I glanced away, I met the gaze of the boy with the curls.
Though his curly bangs almost covered his eyes, judging by the way his shoulders jumped, he must have been looking at me.
‘Zerdin Camel…’
From the first time I heard the name, I thought it sounded strangely familiar.
‘He might look like a quiet commoner now, but he’ll become a nobleman later.’
Not just any new noble, either, but one who rises at a frightening pace—unlike the Abelus family, who slowly decline.
‘I think after graduating from the academy, he worked at the Imperial Palace and earned a title for his merits, didn’t he?’
It all happened when Licht became Crown Prince, mentioned only briefly.
That’s not all.
Every business he touched succeeded, amassing an immense fortune.
In fact, the reason the academy allowed commoners to enroll was precisely this:
To scout for outstanding talent.
The current Emperor was determined to actively recruit gifted individuals.
Most of these newly ennobled people received a non-hereditary baron’s title, but Zerdin, exceptionally, was elevated all the way to count.
‘At any rate, Havan, you’d best sit quietly and not do anything you’ll regret.’
That’s the only way you’ll survive…
I shook my head and stared straight ahead.
Once the commotion settled down, Yuliophe led us to the library.
Apparently, the prospect of more demerits scared Havan into behaving himself.
We all squeezed into the children’s library of the central library—the one we’d briefly visited yesterday.
“Now, I’d like to show you this book.”
The professor took out an old book.
The same one he’d been carrying under his arm.
“Does anyone know what this is?”
An ancient book!
“It’s an ancient book. Now, who here can read the old language written inside?”
Me!
“Of course not.”
Yuliophe gave a wan little laugh, fatigue dripping from his face.
“Almost no one can read the old language anymore. On top of that, so many scholars who could read it died during the recent war… Honestly, that’s a tragedy.”
The professor’s face grew even darker as he stroked the book.
‘…Ah.’
With a strange heaviness, I gazed at his gloomy expression.
Come to think of it, I remembered hearing something in passing—
‘A group of academy scholars died while retrieving an ancient book discovered on the western border of Babylon…’
That was back when dark beasts still prowled everywhere. Such deaths were, to be frank, all too common.
Of course, for those left behind, no such loss could ever truly become “commonplace.”
Yuliophe clapped his hands to lighten the mood.
“Anyway! I wanted to show you all that our central library once contained many precious ancient books like this. So, what’s the first thing to do when you go home?”
“Sign up for the academy entrance exam!”
“Yes, wonderful!”
Yuliophe nodded like a sideshow barker.
Then, one of the children piped up.
“But is that book really so special?”
The professor emptied his drink and smiled at the child as if he were adorable.
“It’s a very important document. It’s a record that’s thousands of years old.”
“But it looks older and dirtier than my new book…”
“That’s exactly why it’s important.”
Yuliophe smiled warmly.
“Something getting old means time has passed for it. Time accumulated is what gives something meaning.”
The children tilted their heads. I raised my hand and spoke up.
“My dad says people get older every day, but that just means we get wiser too. Is it kind of like that?”
Yuliophe looked at me and arched an eyebrow slightly.
“Yes, that’s exactly it. Some things are valuable precisely because they’re old.”
“But how could a book from thousands of years ago survive all this time?”
“That’s our academy’s pride and joy. We specialize in preserving ancient books…”
At that moment, Yuliophe’s words trailed off.
“Professor? Are you okay? Shouldn’t you drink another one of those?”
Sortie, sitting beside him, asked worriedly. Yuliophe managed a faint smile and took another sip of his fatigue tonic.
“Thank you. Anyway, our library is blessed with an environment specialized for preserving ancient books.”
The children, not understanding a thing, clapped enthusiastically.
I quietly watched the book in Yuliophe’s hands.
‘So he does know that the contents of the ancient books are being erased.’
Despite its age, the book really was well preserved.
What felt strange was the tiny bookmark wedged in the middle of the volume.
‘He’s marked the spot—right where the pages turned blank.’
Yuliophe carefully opened the book to the place he’d marked.
“This document contains records of the old capital, Bamiless. Its title is ‘Splendid Scenery of Bamiless.’”
“I can’t read any of it!”
“Of course—it’s in the old language. Back then, national distinctions didn’t really exist, so everyone spoke this old tongue.”
Yuliophe explained patiently.
“Is it different from our current continental common language?”
“Completely. The present common tongue is almost identical to the Babylon Empire’s language. The old language, on the other hand…”
He hesitated a moment, then continued. I could more or less guess what he’d say next.
“It’s quite similar to the ancient language of the Mage Kingdom.”
I quietly clenched my fists.
“That alone serves as evidence that mages once lived across this continent.”
“Wow, amazing! Do you think I could have become friends with a mage if I lived back then?”
“Probably, yes. Now, shall we take a look inside?”
Yuliophe slowly turned the pages.
With all the illustrations, the children seemed quite absorbed and attentive.
‘I’ll have to pay him a visit later.’
I stared at the professor’s lifeless eyes and mused.
‘But if I just barge in, will Yuliophe be wary?’
I couldn’t very well blurt out that I knew the secret of the ancient library.
‘Isn’t there some way to win the professor over, naturally…’
Hmm. Folding my arms, I pondered. I felt like I’d heard Liam say something relevant before…
Break time.
“Um, excuse me.”
As I was packing up my bag, someone approached.
“Hm?”
“U-um, thank you for before. And… for yesterday, too…”
It was Zerdin Camel, the boy with the frizzy hair.
He had light lilac hair full of tousled curls that covered even his eyes.
His cheeks were gaunt, his movements shy and hesitant, his voice so small.
I smiled at him as kindly as I could.
“No problem. Don’t worry about it. But…”
I suddenly stood up and leaned my face toward Zerdin.
“Wh-what is it?”
“If you’re really grateful, remember what happened today for a long, long time. Okay? If you ever write your memoirs, you can even use it as an anecdote.”
“I-I don’t quite get what you mean…”
Zerdin nodded, stammering.
“But I think I’ll remember it for a long time…”
Dad, I’ve made friends with one of the continent’s future richest men (or soon will)!