"Phoenix, don't spoil him too much. He's basically just using you to help him study."

Ailin Camila Lumier sat at her seat, glanced at the two, and remarked with a faint smile.

"What 'using'? That's harsh. Is mutual help among classmates called 'using'? Phoenix, ignore her. Let's keep reading."

Leyang rolled his eyes and said to Phoenix.

This guy dared to disrespect the Seventh Princess. Just a mere viscount's family member—how audacious.

Yet Princess Lumei showed no anger at all. Instead, the three huddled together, listening intently as Phoenix read aloud. Their rapt attention sparked envy among the others, who now found themselves perched atop a lofty peak of jealousy.

Seeing this, Alec Dode's eyes darkened. That kid beside Princess Lumei was truly an eyesore.

"Lord Leyang, something hard on you seems to be touching me," Glantham Phoenix said softly, turning to Nebis Leyang with a puzzled look.

"Something hard? Could it be..."

Hearing this, Princess Lumei's face suddenly flushed red. She inwardly scoffed and stared at Leyang with a complex gaze.

"Oh, you mean this on my arm? It's an armguard made of special metal." Leyang tapped his arm, producing a crisp knock, and smiled faintly.

"So it's an armguard. I thought..."

"What did you think it was, something hard?"

"No, no. This princess already knew it was an armguard."

"Eh... really? Well, let's just go with that." Leyang eyed Lumei suspiciously. Seeing her tense up, he couldn't be bothered to dig deeper.

Still, this eight-year-old Princess Ailin Camila Lumier seemed overly precocious. Did she even know about that kind of thing? Weren't girls from other worlds supposed to be pure and flawless?

"By the way, Lord Leyang, why wear an iron armguard? Doesn't it feel heavy?" Lumei asked curiously.

"It's for training. Getting my body used to armor weight early makes movement easier later."

"I know this! When I trained before, my father tied weights to my hands and legs. It worked great—especially when you remove them, you feel light as a feather," Phoenix chimed in eagerly.

"Good point. When you practice swordsmanship later, try binding weights. It'll boost your skills."

"Mhm."

Just then, Instructor Soya Jemi slowly entered Class A.

"Quiet down. Class is starting. Is everyone present?" Her gaze flickered pointedly to Leyang's seat. This kid skipped on his very first day—utterly audacious.

"Student Nebis Leyang, why were you absent yesterday afternoon?" Soya Jemi asked gently, watching him.

Leyang had expected this. "Instructor Soya Jemi, I had more important matters. I was exercising my academy privilege—it shouldn't violate school rules, right?"

His words cut off her rebuttal. Right—this was his privilege. Punishing him would embarrass Kamila Noble Academy's dean, Plan Dominic.

"Then what matters are so important you'd skip my class?" Soya Jemi suppressed her anger, voice soft.

"Personal privacy. I can't disclose it, student."

Flawless reasoning.

Soya Jemi twitched her lips inwardly. *You little brat, talking to me about privacy? What secrets could you possibly have?*

"Alright. Take your seat." She waved a hand, headache pounding. She hadn't expected him to confess anyway. For an eight-year-old, his composure was unnervingly mature—downright astonishing.

After morning theory classes and Phoenix's writing lessons, Leyang mastered basic daily script in under a day. Post-lunch, he sparred briefly with Phoenix, offering pointers. He skipped afternoon classes again, heading alone to the Arcane Library. He grabbed simple books and buried himself in study.

No system cheat. No magic to master languages. Just hard work. Luckily, his special memorization techniques gave him extreme learning speed—with a translator, he could master any language in days. This skill wasn't talent; it was forged in his past life's painful training. That era could drive anyone mad.

Now, Leyang's mind was wholly absorbed in his book, oblivious to the world. Hours slipped by unnoticed. As dusk fell, he closed the book and shelved it. Deciphering Camila Empire script alone was tough, but a little more effort would master it soon.

Leyang stepped out of the Arcane Library, stretching lazily toward the setting sun.

"Time to go. Back to the usual spot to lie in wait."

Halfway there, faint sobbing caught his ear. *Who's crying?*

He turned. A boy huddled in a bush, wiping tears. The back view looked familiar.

Leyang remembered—Chester Baroli, the kid he'd scared yesterday. Why crying again? Bullied?

"We're both from Class A. Better check." Leyang sighed and crept up behind him.

"Crybaby, what's wrong?"

Chester Baroli jerked around, terrified. He bolted, but Leyang grabbed his collar.

"Stop. I won't eat you."

Leyang glimpsed bruises on the boy's back and frowned.

"Y-you... what do you want? Stay back—I'll scream!"

"Less talk. Come here." Leyang yanked his clothes open. His pupils contracted sharply.

Hiss—

Too cruel!