Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.6 - Chapter 6

Everyone Passing on the First Day

Today was the last day of our written lessons—I was going to make sure of that. From there, I would spend my morning free time studying for next year’s classes, improving my water gun, and becoming the coolest, strongest version of myself possible.

“Brother, Sister, I pray for your success. Not that you will need my prayers. You have already inspired the others in your grade to pass on their first day once before...” Charlotte said with a sigh, her hand resting wistfully on her cheek.

Yesterday afternoon, three laynobles in Charlotte’s grade had failed their history and geography exams, which meant the first-years had already missed their chance for everyone to pass on the first day. Charlotte had assembled the first-years for a strategy meeting after dinner, while I was busy reporting on how the second-year practical lessons had gone.

“I was not able to ensure the laynobles’ success, even with preemptive education and the textbooks. I simply cannot understand how you were able to manage it with no preparation at all...” Charlotte muttered, her bewilderment clear on her face. She had managed the winter playroom for years now, so she had expected guiding the first-years to be relatively simple... but ten days of cramming had ultimately not been enough.

“I wouldn’t worry so much, Charlotte. No normal person can copy what this monster does,” Wilfried said with the utmost seriousness. “Rozemyne picked out everyone who wasn’t yet good enough to pass, figured out their weaknesses, and then came up with a training regimen that ruthlessly whipped them into shape. It was time-consuming enough that she had to cut her sleeping time short, but not even that seemed to faze her. She also stuck with the laynobles to force them to study, putting enormous pressure on them while she did her own studying. I felt so bad for the laynobles, but there was nothing I could do to save them.”

I pursed my lips. He was making it sound as though I were as brutal of a teacher as Ferdinand. Although I can’t deny that I’ve taken a little inspiration from him...

“If you’ll recall, dear brother, the blame lies with you,” I interjected. “If you had not forbidden me from entering the library until all of the first-years passed their written lessons, I would not have been so forceful with their education.”

“You’re exactly right. I was a fool. I was ignorant. And thanks to that disaster, I learned that any book-related restrictions I give you can’t involve other people. Charlotte, learn from my mistake—be careful when trying to control Rozemyne. She expects from others as much as she expects from herself. She’ll want you to work as hard as you physically can, no matter what you usually do.”

Charlotte gave a solemn nod at this warning. “I must agree; it is unbearably painful to be expected to perform at the same level as Rozemyne,” she muttered a little too sincerely.

“I know you must be disappointed that you could not guide all of the first-years to pass right away, but I think this outcome is for the best,” Wilfried said. “It’s better for them to study at their own pace than be beaten down by an archduke candidate day after day to the point that they’re studying even during meals and are too stressed to taste the food.” He spoke with the gravity of someone who had endured war, and I could see many of the first-years looking at the second-year laynobles sympathetically. One phrase was written clearly on their faces: “I’m glad that wasn’t me.”

“You are quite right, dear brother,” Charlotte said. “Last night, we collectively decided to take our time and try instead for the highest grades possible. We have less to learn than the older students, so we can still succeed in this regard. Having everyone pass right away is going to be our goal for next year. We should have no issue when we have a full year to prepare—isn’t that right?”

The first-years gave enthusiastic nods; I could see the bonds of trust that had formed between them. Charlotte had overseen the winter playroom for the three years following her baptism, and now she was competently leading the first-years. She had encouraged them when they failed to all pass in one go and given them a new goal to work toward.

“You first-years may have an advantage in that you have less to learn, but the senior students are well-prepared,” I said. “They may have even more honor students than last year, so be wary of complacency.”

“Goodness, Sister... Please do not pressure them so,” Charlotte said, shooting me a light glare as we advanced through the central building. We second-years headed to the auditorium, while the first-years prepared to go to their respective classrooms.

“You are going to be doing highbeast creation today, correct?” I asked. “Do your best, everyone.”

“Indeed. I intend to make a drivable highbeast just like yours, Sister. I am very familiar with yours by now, so I may have an advantage,” Charlotte replied with a smile, waving as we went our separate ways. The other first-years followed after her, while we made our way to our final written lessons in the auditorium.

“May we second-years succeed in passing all at once,” I declared.

“We’ve been studying for an entire year; we’re gonna pass for sure,” Wilfried said, looking over our classmates with a confident grin. “The question is how high we can make our grades.”

Last year, after passing our classes, we had immediately started transcribing second-year study guides and making new textbooks. We had shared the fruits of our labor with everyone, making a master copy for everyone to transcribe their own copies from, and overall spent a whole year studying. Assurance was written on everyone’s faces.

“I’m feeling confident this year,” Philine said. She and Roderick were puffing out their chests with pride—although they had struggled with history and geography last year, they were now on top. Everything was going to be fine. I was certain.

We took the seats labeled “ten” and then readied our magic pens. Today would determine whether Ehrenfest’s second-years could pass all of their classes on the first day for the second year in a row. I could feel the eyes of the surrounding students on us.

“Hey, Wilfried.” Ortwin was on his way to the seats labeled “three” when he spotted us and came over. “If you all pass today, that’ll make this your second year in a row. I can hardly believe it. Even we’ve had a few laynobles fail.”

Wilfried gave a sympathetic smile to the gathered Drewanchel students. “We’re hardly comparable. We only need eight people to pass compared to your thirtyish. We have it a lot easier.”

“That’s true, but it’s still a fact that Ehrenfest’s grades have shot up lately. I’m actually looking forward to all of you passing today. Mark my words, though—we’re going to be the ones getting the highest grades,” Ortwin said with a breezy smile before heading to his seat.

Wilfried grinned at the encouragement while taking out his textbooks to look over. His dark-green eyes burned with the fire of someone in a competition with their rival.

“We can’t let Drewanchel win, eh?” I said.

“Right. But I’m less concerned about us winning as a duchy than making sure my own grades are better than Ortwin’s.”

Ah. Friendships like this are so nice.

Feeling a little jealous of the relationships Wilfried had forged over the past year, I completed my final bits of cramming. Today’s subjects were poetry in literature and sociology, the latter of which covered ethics and economics. All were focused only on the fundamentals, so they weren’t too hard.

The bell chimed, and the professors came in. The test would normally have begun right away, but today there was an announcement: tomorrow, on Fruitday, the first-years were going to be gathering their Divine Wills. They were going to have their written lessons in the morning as a result, which meant we second-years would need to have ours in the afternoon instead.

Our literature test was distributed shortly after.

“All passing marks for Drewanchel and Ehrenfest,” came the call. Wilfried looked at our classmates, nodded, and then began studying sociology with them at once.

The professor in charge of sociology had changed following the civil war, which meant the content covered in our sociology lessons had changed as well. Our classes were now so different from the ones covered in Ferdinand’s study guides that we had needed to go through the trouble of consolidating the old and new material into one book. It was a shame because, although the older syllabus was harder, it seemed more useful for the future.

“The exam will now begin,” Fraularm said, standing at the front as our sociology professor. Once all of the tests had been passed out, she smiled and then began reading aloud the first problem.

“Huh?” one of the students muttered. “What the...?”

“We didn’t learn any of this...” another said.

The questions had aroused a commotion from Drewanchel and several nearby archnobles—that is, those who had properly studied. As the noise grew louder still, Fraularm shot the students a harsh look.

“Be silent!” she shrieked. “I will only read the problem aloud three times! Save your questions for when I have finished. You are bothering the other students!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the auditorium, magnified by a magic tool. It was so piercing that I wanted to cover my ears when she spoke.

Fraularm began reading the problem for a second time, ignoring the lingering murmurs. Soon enough, silence fell. Everyone grabbed their pens and immediately began scribbling away, aware of the consequences for not doing so.

Once the problem had been read three times, there came a cry from Drewanchel. “Professor Fraularm!” As everyone else remained seated and worked on their answers, Ortwin alone abruptly stood up.

“Yes, Drewanchel?” Fraularm asked.

“This test can’t be right. None of this was part of our syllabus last year.”

He was correct—the problem that Fraularm had just read aloud was based on an old syllabus from Ferdinand’s generation. The syllabus had changed once already when Fraularm officially became the sociology professor, which wasn’t unusual in itself, but never before had it changed again during the tenure of the same professor. Fraularm listened for a moment as the other students voiced their disagreement, then her lips curled into a callous grin.

“The syllabus differs from last year?” she said. “Why, of course it does. This is what we shall be studying this year. It is not always the case that the syllabus remains the same. This problem was learned by students of the past; I simply adopted it into my lessons because I decided it would be best to learn the wisdom of our forebears.”

If one took her at face value, it would seem as though she were a passionate teacher indeed. After all, she had studied past lessons and adopted into her own classes what she had determined was best for her students to learn.

I would have been moved if she had done this a few years after her assignment, and if not for that grin, I would have thought she was working her hardest for our sake.

Fraularm’s snickering and the smug look she had given after announcing the change was directed not at Ortwin, who had asked the question, but at Ehrenfest. It was impossible not to realize that she had done this specifically to stop us from passing on the first day.

“If you have no more questions, Drewanchel, then you may be seated.”

After a brief moment of stunned silence, Ortwin conceded with a quiet, “Understood.” He had likewise deduced what was going on, and as he sat down again, he glanced back at us in worry. I could see others giving us sympathetic looks as well, but as Drewanchel, a greater duchy, had achieved nothing through protest, nobody else could offer any further complaints.

“We just need to do what we can,” Wilfried whispered. I nodded in response, as did Philine and Roderick, who were carefully eyeing Fraularm.

“Now then... Next question,” Fraularm said. Her voice carried through the otherwise silent auditorium as she read the next problem. During her momentary pauses, only the scratching of pens was audible. The test had resumed.

“Is everybody finished, then?”

By the time we had completed our tests, most other duchies had already turned in theirs. There was no way they had been able to properly complete an exam so heavily focused on material not taught for around a decade. Most duchies had given up early and turned in papers that were half unanswered.

The fact that most duchies remained seated despite having finished was no doubt because they were curious about our grades.

“Roderick, turn them in,” Wilfried said. Roderick nodded in response and then brought our duchy’s test papers over to Fraularm. She took them with a broad grin, as though she had been eagerly awaiting this moment.

“Allow me to begin grading these tests,” Fraularm said. But the moment she started looking over our papers, her eyes opened wide, and her hands began to tremble.

“Oho! What splendid answers these are,” exclaimed another professor who was grading the tests alongside her.

“Are you satisfied now, Professor Fraularm?” asked a third professor, looking between her and the tests with amusement. “Ehrenfest is not cheating. Rather, they can even pass tests on material that has not been taught at all.”

“Ngh... All passing grades from Ehrenfest,” Fraularm said, vexation clear in her voice. It was an announcement that sent tremors of surprise throughout the auditorium. Those still scribbling down their answers looked up from their papers and stared at us in shock.

“Everyone passed?!”

“But... how?!”

Their shock inspired a proud grin not just from Wilfried, who remained silent as he gazed across the onlookers, but from Philine and Roderick as well. I was presumably no exception; I could practically feel the smugness oozing from my every pore.

Drewanchel, who had finished their tests first, stood up and flourished their emerald-green capes before approaching us. “Wilfried, congratulations on everyone passing once again,” Ortwin said. “Can you tell me how you managed it? The test didn’t even touch upon anything covered in the syllabus.”

Wilfried gave a nonchalant shrug. “It’s simple. As Professor Fraularm said, the test was based on a syllabus from the previous generation. All we did was study that too.”

The current syllabus was different enough that, after graduating and securing a job, our youth would end up struggling to work properly alongside their superiors. And since the older syllabus was of a higher level, it was more effective for us to just learn everything. Ferdinand had warned us that apprentice knights were not the only ones being educated to a lower standard than before; Ehrenfest was retraining its apprentice knights, new knights, and new scholars based on old standards, so it made sense for us to simply begin learning such things during our time in the Royal Academy.

“We decided to rethink our duchy’s study methods, and in the process, we compared our current lessons to the old ones,” Wilfried continued. “Doing that just so happened to help us with this test.”

We second-years weren’t the only Ehrenfest students looking beyond the current curriculum; we were comparing the old and new syllabi of all courses and writing up guides so that we would not be considered too uneducated when we became adults. Students across all years and courses were being brought up to shape.

“Now that’s surprising... I think we’ll start doing the same in Drewanchel,” Ortwin said, blinking his light-brown eyes a few times in confusion before regarding us with a grin.

It seemed that Drewanchel was going to be a fairly tough opponent next year; I could already tell that its thirty second-years were all going to pass. I wasn’t particularly excited about this—I much preferred having as comfortable of a win as possible—but Wilfried was wearing a broad smile. He was probably the kind of person who wanted a rival to go all out against.

I reckon we’ll keep the picture book bibles a secret for a bit longer...

“Oh, that’s right. Lady Rozemyne.”

Ortwin addressed me all of a sudden, taking me by surprise. I was pretty sure this was the first time he had ever spoken to me rather than Wilfried. I gazed at him quizzically, trying to look as graceful as possible, at which point he continued.

“A message from Adolphine.”

I instinctively froze, remembering the smirk on Adolphine’s face as she had run her fingers through her glossy hair during the fellowship gathering.

“To quote: ‘If you finish your written lessons today, I imagine you will have time in the morning before returning to Ehrenfest for the Dedication Ritual. If so, I would certainly like to have a tea party with you,’” Ortwin said. “My sister was quite jealous when she heard you had a tea party with Lady Eglantine of Klassenberg before socializing season began.”

No... Nooo! Not a tea party! Blehhh... I don’t want to go. Who knows what she’s going to ask me about.

This was an invitation from Drewanchel, the duchy that had immediately copied our rinsham. I smiled wider, trying to keep my worry from showing on my face. No matter how scared I was, an invitation from Drewanchel was not one that I could refuse. My only choice was to accept.

“Oh my, an invitation from Lady Adolphine?” I said. “How delightful. Tell her I am very much looking forward to it.”

Rest in peace, library time. I knew thee well...

“You don’t look well, milady. Especially considering that everyone passed,” Rihyarda said once we had returned to the dorm, peering down at me with concern.

“Lady Adolphine of Drewanchel has expressed interest in a tea party,” I said with a sigh. “An invitation will no doubt be arriving soon, so please be ready for it.”

In contrast to my evident depression, my apprentice attendant Brunhilde was meeting this new opportunity with eagerly clenched fists. “Lady Rozemyne, I studied for an entire year to keep up with your excessively fast socializing,” she said, her amber eyes gleaming with motivation. “I shall handle this challenge with aplomb.”

“You certainly do make many promises despite needing to leave for the Dedication Ritual so soon,” Lieseleta said. “You have tea parties scheduled with the music professors, the library staff, Lady Hannelore of Dunkelfelger, and now Lady Adolphine of Drewanchel.” Her small, troubled smile betrayed her true feelings on the matter; my circumstances were so far from Ehrenfest’s norms that they were struggling to keep up.

“Now, now, Lieseleta. Times like these should be celebrated as opportunities to display one’s skills!” Brunhilde said. “It is much too early to begin socializing—I certainly realize this—but I am excited nonetheless. These are preparations worth doing.” She seemed very determined indeed, but considering when socializing season was supposed to begin, I could see the problem on our hands.

“Could I perhaps refuse Drewanchel on the grounds that only the second-years have finished their classes and my retainers are still busy?” I asked.

“It is one thing to refuse invitations from all, but it would be far from acceptable to refuse only Drewanchel,” Brunhilde said.

I responded with a sigh, having expected that answer but hoped not to hear it. The first-years began to return at that same moment. Charlotte was wearing an especially bright smile, but the moment she noticed me, she came rushing over. On closer inspection, she was pale, and she seemed particularly stressed.

“Is something the matter, Charlotte?”

“Erm, Sister... Drewanchel invited me to a tea party during class today. I was told that, as it will no doubt be a nerve-racking experience for me, I am permitted to attend with you.”

Urk... A pincer attack. I’m being assailed on both flanks...

Drewanchel had copied our rinsham production method with ease, and with our hairpins being little more than woven thread, it was only a matter of time before they copied those too. Mom had figured out how to weave the smallest flower just by rolling a finished one around on her palm. If a skilled craftsperson managed to get their hands on one of our hairpins, they would probably need no more than a year to recreate even our most elaborate design.

It wouldn’t be quite so easy for them to figure out how Ehrenfest paper was produced, but they would need only investigate the fibers to learn that it was made from plants. For every question they asked me, any answer I gave would surely be picked apart and researched.

I could feel a sense of regret swelling up inside of me. This tea party was the absolute last thing I wanted. Even falling sick and sleeping through the whole thing seemed like a more pleasant alternative.

“Sister, whatever shall we do...?” Charlotte asked, worried.

Ah, but I can’t end up bedridden, else Charlotte will need to attend on her own! And she’s already so scared... Backing out isn’t an option!

I couldn’t make Charlotte go alone simply because I was feeling depressed. This was going to be her first big tea party, and as her big sister, I needed to guide her through it.

“Fear not, Charlotte—I am going to be there with you. Let us face Drewanchel together, with strong hearts,” I said. She blinked at me several times, so I smiled to reassure her.

You can rely on me. I’m your big sister, after all.

My feelings must have been conveyed, as Charlotte’s worried look soon turned to a stronger smile. “Indeed,” she said. “I will do the best I can as well.”