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I had hoped that finding some common ground with the Duke—something that might make him seem a little less intimidating—would ease the chill I felt whenever our eyes met. But no, it was clear that the Duke and I were from completely different worlds.

‘Of course, the Duke would never do something as reckless as scaling the walls of the Kreutz estate and kidnapping Eugene,’ I mused. ‘He wouldn’t just stuff Eugene into a sack and carry him off.’

Instead, it was easy to imagine the Duke walking through the front gates of the Kreutz estate, knocking politely at the door, handing over an invitation, and then respectfully escorting Eugene away in a carriage.

As I slowly nodded to myself, trying to process this, the Duke seemed to feel the need to emphasize his point again.

“I did not kidnap him.”

“Yes, I understand,” I replied.

“I mean it.”

“Yes.”

The Duke glared at me, his eyes wide with insistence, and I quickly nodded my head repeatedly, shoulders tensing up. ‘His gaze is really scary…’

* * *

Those who were admitted to the Ivory Tower through special invitations didn’t need to take entrance exams. However, the Duke suggested a separate test to gauge Eugene’s abilities. Eugene didn’t refuse; he accepted the test.

‘Or rather, it’s more accurate to say he couldn’t refuse,’ I thought.

Eugene had been forcefully invited to the Ivory Tower because of the so-called divine revelation I had claimed to receive. Education at the Ivory Tower was a duty imposed by imperial decree, and unless something extraordinary happened, Eugene would be required to study there for the foreseeable future. In that sense, it was easier to comply with the Duke’s directives, considering his position as both the head of the Elpinard family and the Ivory Tower.

Of course, I doubted that Eugene, who shook like a newborn lamb in the Duke’s presence, had weighed all these factors before accepting the test.

The results of the test were astonishing.

“The kid from the Kreutz family got a perfect score!”

One of the students who hung around with Karslon burst into the classroom, shouting the news.

“Is getting a perfect score that easy? Why do we keep hearing about perfect scores lately?” someone grumbled among a group of students clustered together.

A few of them cast furtive glances in my direction. These were the same kids who, after Karlson’s defeat, could no longer openly express their suspicions, but still harbored doubts about my and Leonid’s admission. Though they couldn’t voice it outright, they still suspected our entrance was illegitimate.

Of course, they were in the minority. Most of the students seemed to take this latest event as further evidence of the fairness of the exams.

“Considering how bad the relationship is between Kreutz and Elpinard, there’s no way they’d manipulate the results to give Kreutz a perfect score…”

“How did they even discover this genius, who wasn’t known to anyone, and give him a special invitation?”

“Wait, you didn’t know? They said the Saintess received a divine revelation. That she had to bring him to the Ivory Tower.”

“So she really is a Saintess?”

Thanks to Eugene’s perfect score, the lie I had concocted about receiving a divine revelation to bring him to the Ivory Tower had suddenly gained a lot more credibility.

‘It’s not like I knew Eugene was a genius when I suggested inviting him to the Ivory Tower,’ I thought, feeling a mix of irony and relief.

This really was like catching a mouse by accident while backing up—except this wasn’t just any ordinary mouse.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call Eugene a mouse made of gold.

“How smart is he?” Leonid asked, still not taking his eyes off the book he was reading. He wasn’t looking at me, but since I was the only person in this classroom that Leonid ever spoke to first, it was clear he was asking me.

“He’s solved problems using the Aberzant-Theres theorem before,” I replied.

“Hooh?” That seemed to pique Leonid’s interest. He closed the book he was reading and finally turned to look at me.

“What about the Clonard definition?”

“Uh…?”

“Or the concept of the Bastoule formula or the Altrastonid inflection point?”

“Uhh…”

The foreign words spilling out of Leonid’s mouth made my head spin for a moment. I struggled to keep my wits about me and managed to answer, “He said he’s done various calculations using the Aberzant-Theres theorem. It seems like he learned it on his own, not from a book.”

“Hooh…” Leonid’s eyes, which had been filled with mild interest, now sparkled with genuine delight.

“Looks like there’s finally someone else here I can talk to. The concentration of idiots in this classroom might just decrease a little.”

By “someone else,” did he mean…?

“Does that mean you’re not counting me as an idiot anymore?”

“Well, you can hold a conversation, so I suppose not.”

Leonid responded casually and reopened his book. Curious about what he was reading, I craned my neck to peek at the contents, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

‘It’s not ancient script…’

Was it the language of some minority group?

Noticing my curiosity, Leonid nonchalantly provided the answer. “It’s ancient script.”

“It doesn’t look like ancient script, though…”

“That’s because I’m reading it upside down.”

“What…?”

As I blinked in confusion, Leonid turned the book around to prove his point. Sure enough, when he flipped it, I recognized the ancient script.

“!”

Confirming that I understood, Leonid promptly flipped the book back over and continued reading the upside-down ancient script.

“Why are you reading it like that…?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“That’s…?”

“It’s a good way to stimulate the brain when you feel like your mind is decaying from boring studies.”

“I… see…”

He was an entirely incomprehensible person. Just as I was about to give up trying to understand him and turned my head back to the front, the classroom door opened, and the scholar in charge of our class entered.

Today, the scholar wasn’t alone. Following him was a small, nervous boy with black hair and green eyes, much like the day before.

“That must be the Kreutz kid.”

“He’s really tiny, isn’t he?”

“Is he 5? Maybe 6?”

Hearing the other students murmur made me realize that I hadn’t asked Eugene his age.

‘Now that I think about it, he does look about 5 or 6.’

“Everyone, this is Eugene Kreutz, who will be studying with us from today. He’s 7 years old…”

‘Seven!’

He was older than I had guessed. It seemed likely that his small stature was due to malnutrition. That thought made me feel even more sympathy for him.

‘It reminds me of my old self.’

There were so many days in my past life when I roamed the slums without even a crust of bread to eat. Although that was in my previous life, my mind had carried over all those experiences, so it wasn’t something I could easily separate from who I was now.

When the scholar finished introducing him, Eugene quickly lowered his head and hurried to the seat next to mine, practically flinging himself into the chair with surprising speed for someone so frail-looking. Once seated, he buried his face in his book, barely lifting his head.

With his nose so close to the pages, I wondered how he could possibly read anything. Gently, I placed my hand on his shoulder and pulled the book away from his face, creating some distance between the two. Eugene flinched at the contact and turned to look at me.

“Hello, Eugene,” I greeted him with a small wave.

His face flushed slightly, and he hesitantly raised his hand in response.

“…Hello to you too.”

As I watched his tentative wave with a smile, Leonid suddenly leaned over, causing Eugene to jump again, startled by the new face.

“Do you know the Clonard definition?”

“Huh?”

“The Clonard definition. You know it, right?”

Leonid’s tone carried a hint of impatience as if he was irritated by having to repeat himself. Eugene quickly nodded.

“Yes, I know it.”

“What about the Bastoule formula?”

“Uh… I know that too.”

“And I suppose you’re familiar with the concept of the Altrastonid inflection point as well?”

When Eugene nodded again, Leonid let out a deep sigh and clasped his hands together.

“At last, someone who understands Bastoule. Oh, thank the heavens.”

Leonid, now wearing the kind of charming smile he usually reserved for adults, extended his hand to Eugene.

He was asking for a handshake.