According to Imperial Grace Academy tradition, the third week after spring semester begins marks the Initiate Festival.

Maur had been detained by Evelyn for a week of remedial lessons; by the time he was released, the semester’s second week was already underway.

Just one more week until the Initiate Festival commenced.

Contrary to what the name might suggest, the Initiate Festival wasn’t a celebration *for* new students—it was a ceremony honoring a fresh beginning.

Spanning six full days, the festival unfolded in three distinct phases.

Phase One fell on Monday of the third week: the entire academy celebrated freely according to personal preference.

Submit a proposal one week ahead, and nearly anything feasible was approved for Day One—food streets, magic performances, martial tournaments, adventure houses…

Most students joined in eagerly. Spring celebrations were a longstanding custom of the Somaria Empire, and this was the *only* leisure stretch Imperial Grace Academy students enjoyed all semester.

Because Tuesday—the festival’s second day—ushered in the intense Challenge Matches.

Held over Tuesday and Wednesday, Tuesday featured the Team Challenge: a massive free-for-all between the academy’s three major departments. Only one faction would claim victory.

Rewards for the winning department included prime classrooms, Royal Cafeteria access with an exclusive victory menu, department-wide scholarships, and victor’s badges.

Nobles might shrug at most perks—but *victory*? Never surrendered lightly.

For commoner students, every reward held fierce allure, especially the scholarship.

No wonder the team challenge burned with cutthroat competition.

For students lacking standout strength—those with zero hope in Wednesday’s Individual Challenge—it was their sole shot at honor and privilege.

Then came Thursday through Saturday: the Practical Exams. A nightmare for most.

Formats changed yearly, but the rule never did—fail if weak, shine only if exceptional.

Flunk the exams? Face the supervising teachers’ *"kind"* guidance… or worse, expulsion.

“S-so… Lord Maur, you still won’t hold any celebration activity this year?”

In Maur’s lounge, the fox girl Tabitha stood behind him, clutching a blank proposal form, voice trembling.

Maur, eyes fixed on arcane magical notes spread across his desk, replied without looking up: “Boring. I’ve no interest in entertaining strangers.”

To him, cooking street food, performing magic like a circus act, or brawling for spectacle—all meaningless.

“Being gawked at by a crowd? Like a monkey in a cage.”

He hated that feeling.

Tabitha’s head dipped. Her tail drooped limply; her ears sagged listlessly.

“Lord Maur paints so beautifully… and this is your final semester. I’d thought…”

*…to hold a personal exhibition for you.*

*I really… want to see Lord Maur paint again.*

Her whisper was too faint for even Maur to catch—just a faint murmur.

Maur briefly lifted his gaze from the Forest Fey’s cryptic notes. Propping his chin on his palm, he turned toward the hesitant fox girl at his right rear.

“Something on your mind?”

The notes were dense; progress minimal. A short break wouldn’t hurt.

He focused on his flustered attendant, caught between speaking and silence.

Under his gentle yet intent stare, she froze—too nervous to voice her wish.

*He’s looking at me… asking kindly… I must say something!*

“A-ah! L-Lord Maur!” Tabitha finally stammered out a safe topic. “These are activity proposals from this year’s freshmen. You asked me to monitor them closely, so… I made a copy.” She offered a thick stack of papers.

“Oh? Not bad, attendant.”

*This concerns the otome game heroine.* Maur wouldn’t miss a clue.

Per otome game logic, the Initiate Festival was prime territory for romance triggers.

Maybe he’d spot that damned heroine through these events. At minimum, compile suspects.

He scanned the proposals.

“Magic Department freshman Gugulia Teri… applies to build a *haunted house*? Hah?! Seriously? Who’s actually scared of ghosts? No way!”

“Next… Magic Department, Annie Campbell: Love Fortune-Telling Booth? Hmph. Boring—but *highly* suspicious.”

Love divination—a classic romance-game catalyst. A rosy prophecy felt like a destiny buff, instantly weaving fate into the story.

On Kachibia Continent, where real astrological magic existed, such prophecies were dangerously compelling.

Maur knew legends—like the demigod Queen Dominica of the Dark Elves and her human lover’s famed prophecy.

Annie Campbell likely wasn’t the heroine… but her booth? Critical surveillance point. Anyone receiving a potent love prophecy went straight on his suspect list.

“Warrior Department, Tammy Megan Orange: Maid Afternoon Tea Café… *Pfft!*”

If Maur had been drinking tea, he’d have spat it out.

*Co-organizer: Lilith Carrie Orange.*

“Has that dumb dog been *kidnapped*? A *maid café*? HAHAHAHA—what a joke!”

He’d grown up with Lilith. They’d clashed for years, yet she’d *never* worn women’s clothing before him.

That stubborn dog despised feminine attire so much she’d rather live in her warrior combat uniform.

Remembering her blunt rejection of his marriage proposal, Maur wiped laughter tears from his eyes.

*No way. Festival Day—I’m absolutely visiting that café to see that dumb dog in a maid outfit. Pfft!*

He set Lilith’s proposal aside with a smirk… then froze.

“Interdisciplinary Department, Mavis Gibbon Fred: Application to establish… *the Glory Fan Club for the Young Master of the Violet Count*?”