After leaving the infirmary, he hurried to the classrooms where the Academy’s students had lessons.

He couldn’t forget his cover identity. As an Academy student, he was supposed to be in class studying right now.

As for the matter of the storm drain, he’d ask Dean Harrison about it later. But since it might involve secrets from the distant past, he couldn’t be sure Harrison would have any useful information for him.

As he walked along the Academy’s main road, he was quick to notice that the mood had changed. Students who didn’t have class were gathered in small groups, discussing something, while some others were red-faced and impossibly excited for reasons he couldn’t fathom.

He slowed down and listened closely. He kept catching words like “the woods,” “fainted,” and “drained dry.”

Every now and then, he even thought he heard his own name.

When posing as a student, he’d used his real name—Carlisle.

At the time, he’d figured he wasn’t famous. Hardly anyone had even heard of Carlisle, a Knight of the Round Table, so there was no need to pick a fake name for his disguise.

Now he could see just how stupid that decision had been.

He knew what the students were talking about. Just as Instructor Anjie had said, fainting after a tryst in the woods was such an absurd and humiliating thing that of course it had become a favorite topic of gossip among the students of Saint Perode Academy.

What he couldn’t understand was how these guys had found out that the person who’d fainted was named Carlisle.

Was it the instructor who’d rescued him? Anjie? Sherry?

Fortunately, the students only knew a name, not what he looked like. Otherwise, if they recognized Carlisle, he might not make it down this road connecting the classrooms.

He shook his head, clearing away those jumbled thoughts, recalled the route, and continued on.

There was no need to overthink it. He’d come to Saint Perrod to uncover the truth behind Instructor Roman’s death. Once he finished investigating the case, he’d leave Ayideen immediately and never come back. Time would make people forget everything—including his fake scandal.

As long as he kept that in mind, the gossip couldn’t hurt him at all.

Besides, Sherry’s ass was clearly itching again. Next time he caught her, he wouldn’t go so easy on her. Spanking her obviously wasn’t enough to fix her bad habits. He’d need to get harsher if he wanted to teach her not to mess with him!

Witches really were just troublemakers who needed a good disciplining.

Whoosh—

Carlisle opened the classroom door and walked in, his expression perfectly calm.

Even while he’d been in the hallway, the classroom’s noisy chatter had echoed all the way down the corridor. But the moment he stepped inside, the room fell completely silent, as if he were a particularly strict instructor. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at him in a daze.

He knew he wasn’t an instructor. There was only one reason the students would look at him like that.

They knew he was the person at the center of the rumors—Carlisle.

It made sense. Once he’d joined the new students and met them, they’d all learned his name. And he’d missed one or two classes that morning. Anyone with half a brain could put two and two together and figure out that he was the one who’d fainted in the woods.

He shrugged. He couldn’t care less what these students thought of him.

Besides, Sherry would pay for every bit of trouble he’d been through.

Since he’d arrived late, only a few seats at the back of the classroom were still open. He set off through the sea of stares, heading for the seat he’d picked as if nothing were wrong.

But some people just couldn’t let him have his way.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the guy who passed out in the woods. You’re awake, huh?” The blond boy in the front row spread a wide grin and started sneering at him.

Carlisle couldn’t remember who he was, but he seemed to scare a lot of the students.

As soon as the blond boy spoke, the classroom erupted in chatter again. His lackeys joined in, taking turns mocking Carlisle.

“The new guy’s no good. If it were me, she’d be the one passing out in the woods!”

“Don’t say that. Maybe he’s so popular with the girls that more than one of them drained him dry. You’d pass out too!”

“What’s there to be afraid of? I’d take on as many as came my way! Only a gelded man would worry about that!”

“...”

No matter how nasty the words, once they reached Carlisle’s ears, they turned into nothing but the buzz of flies.

What was Liya doing at this hour? The Church must have given its Saintess plenty of duties. Maybe she was praying in the chapel—or preaching the Church’s doctrine to the ignorant masses.

Her Church robe was still with him. He wondered what she was wearing now, though surely the Church had given her at least two robes. Anything less would be pretty shabby...

He was shameless to the extreme. As long as he thought about something else, he didn’t have to pay attention to their taunts.

These people didn’t know the truth. They were just parroting what they’d heard, and they weren’t worth the effort of explaining himself to.

But even when he didn’t want to get involved, there were always some people who just wouldn’t leave him alone.

In the aisle leading to his seat, a boy sitting near the edge stuck one leg out to block Carlisle’s path. He folded his arms and tilted his head to one side, looking every bit the street thug.

“Hey! Young Master Osborne’s talking to you, and you’re pretending not to hear? You deaf?”

Carlisle glanced at him in confusion. He didn’t know who this so-called Young Master Osborne was, but he knew this guy was looking for trouble.

When someone weaker than him came looking for trouble, Carlisle never held back.

“What’s a dog doing in a seat? Get down. I’m sitting here.”

He reached out, grabbed the boy by the collar, and threw him onto the floor beside him. Then he picked at his ear and dropped into the seat the boy had vacated.

He stretched his long legs elegantly across the aisle, looked down at the boy on the floor, and let out a string of cold laughs.

The boy had never expected anyone to lay a hand on him after hearing the name Osborne. Pointing at Carlisle from the floor, he shouted, “Do you even know who Young Master Osborne is?! You’re finished! You’re as good as dead—”

Before he could finish, a thick book slammed into his face. Two heavy streams of blood poured from his dark nostrils.

“Get your book off my desk. Why’d you put it in my seat?” Carlisle tidied up the desktop, leaned back in his chair, and settled in comfortably.

The classroom fell silent at the sight. Only the blond boy in the front row looked darkly furious.

He shot to his feet with a bang, and for a moment every eye in the classroom was fixed on him and Carlisle.

Carlisle lifted his eyelids, glanced at him, and lost interest.

The guy who’d stood up was just a weak creature who lived for wine and women. Carlisle could crush him with a single finger.

The one thing he and Sherry had in common was that they both picked on the weak and feared the strong.

Carlisle could just as easily grovel before an enemy he couldn’t beat, putting on a fine show as a helpless boy begging for mercy. But if he could beat them, he’d hit them hard without the slightest hesitation, no matter who they were.

If things got bad, he could always run. He was a Knight of the Round Table—who could possibly catch him?