How to Survive as the Academy Student Council President

"You're here, Lord Loen!"
After parting with Bell, I visited Izelin Academy again.
The moment I reached the front gate, Philip ran up in one stride to greet me.
"Hehe, please, this way. I’ll guide you."
Walking ahead, he started chattering away.
"But Lord Loen, couldn’t you give me a post in the General Student Council too? Like how Her Highness took the secretary position."
"Even if I did, there aren’t any real perks."
A seat in the General Student Council was practically honorary.
There were no particular rights, only obligations; you had to come when I called, so it was just a hassle.
"Still, if it means I can be of help to you, isn’t that what matters?"
"…I’ll give it positive consideration."
"Yes!"
Philip clenched a small fist and smiled as if he had achieved something.
Watching him be so happy, Ciel whispered quietly into my ear.
"…A bit much, don’t you think? You don’t even have a plan."
"I can’t reject him to his face. Worst case, I can create a suitable position later."
Positions are all about what you name them, anyway.
With sunny Philip leading us into the academy grounds, a crowd gathered like a cloud.
Students swarmed over to see me and started calling out.
"Loen?"
"It’s Loen! Loen’s here!"
"Lord Loen! Did you see the newspaper article?"
"Thanks, Loen!"
"You’re so cool!"
"Honestly, not that cool."
"Why? He looks good."
"He’s too skinny. He looks sick."
"That’s the appeal. You don’t get it."
"Who cares? Thanks to him, the academy’s safe. No war and all."
They all shouted their thanks at me.
Some comments were strange, but I decided to take them in a good way.
When the students suddenly converged and surrounded us, Philip stepped in front like a bodyguard to clear a path.
"Hey now, back up. Shoo, shoo. Don’t give gifts here—send them to the Student Council President’s Office."
"…"
Such a reception—this was the first time I’d felt anything like it since falling into this world.
Ciel, walking at my side, spoke in a quiet voice.
"I suppose one really should live long enough to see everything."
"You’re telling me."
It felt a little bewildering, but also satisfying.
'As expected, a person should do good things with their life.'
It’s certainly better to be welcomed everywhere than cursed at wherever you go.
After this, even if not the other students, at least Izelin’s students would support me. At minimum, they wouldn’t be hostile.
Let’s keep growing my base of supporters like this.
'The 60-day grace I got at the start of the term.'
It’s already been over two weeks since then.
Judging by the current momentum, an impeachment vote against me won’t happen immediately, but the future is unpredictable.
For the sake of public opinion, I need to keep shaving down Loen’s infamy.
Following Philip through the crowd, we reached an area cordoned off with rope like a police line to block entry.
It was the reconstruction site where we would conduct an underground relic search beneath Izelin’s grounds.
A quick look around showed a few personnel already surveying the soil and checking the ground.
"Ah, you’re here, Lord Loen."
"Right, Secretary Illeina. Your face looks far more at ease."
As I approached the construction zone, Illeina greeted me with the staff.
Perhaps because her worries had lifted, her expression was much brighter.
"…That’s awkward. Please just call me by name."
"Very well, Illeina. What about the civil team?"
"Yes, I recruited them from Tullei Academy."
Illeina pointed to a group of students inside the rope.
This Union was a crucible for all academic inquiry.
There were specialized academies for politics, economics, society, culture, and more—Tullei Academy was one of them.
'Tullei Academy specialized in architecture and civil engineering.'
Founded around the family of the Architect King Gustav, it was built on a consolidation of several mercantile families.
A bronzed, robust male student dispatched from Tullei Academy came to greet me.
"Oh, so you’re that Loen. Pleasure to meet you. Things are quite noisy about you lately."

A muscular, bald student offered his hand for a shake.
I grasped his massive hand and shook.
Squeeze-
His grip tightened on mine.
His crushing grip—clearly he had the makings of someone built for construction.
Granted, building skill had nothing to do with being a laborer on-site, but that was just the feeling.
His sturdy frame and sun-bronzed skin inspired confidence somehow.
Looking at the man whose hand I held, I recalled the info.
'This student was Klimt Gustav, a descendant of the Architect King Gustav who erected a colossal wall for the House de Valis on the western front.'
I’d paid quite a tidy sum to bring him in for the Izelin dormitory reconstruction.
"Good to meet you, Klimt. You’re as burly as they say. I’m counting on you for this job."
"Heh, leave it to me. I’ll build it grand. Ah, what’s the budget?"
"About one billion Krone."
Originally, Izelin didn’t have that much liquid capital, but the damages we were awarded made such outlay possible.
"One billion, one billion. With Union raw materials provided at near-cost, that’s comfortable."
Klimt finished his quick math and nodded.
"But Klimt, can you tell me who’s handling the design for this dorm?"
Klimt might be the face of the civil works this time, but there was a separate designer.
When I asked about the designer, Klimt grinned and shot the question back at me.
"Why? Want me to design it myself? I’ll cost a bit more."
"No. I know your skill, of course, but I have a designer I want personally."
Klimt, with his [Design] trait, was an outstanding talent, but I had someone else in mind.
'Someone who could design the building I want, and keep quiet about the secret relic search.'
Also someone I’d need to recruit into the General Student Council later.
'Demian.'
He’d be perfect to entrust with this work.
***
Voltimir Territory. Alvheim Hall, Room 109.
I was told the designer I wanted could only be brought in a week later, so I left everything in Illeina’s hands for now and returned.
The day after visiting Izelin.
Spirit Studies again.
I was getting ready for class, which would begin shortly.
Kiriel, sitting beside me, spoke up.
"Hey, did you study for the pop quiz?"
Without sparing her a glance, I stated the orthodox doctrine.
"I didn’t prepare separately. A test is merely a process to confirm what you already know."
"Ugh, all talk, aren’t you."
Kiriel scrunched her face like she wanted to sock me.
"You’ll see."
At least on the written tests, there’s no world where I lose to Kiriel.
Seeing my confidence, Kiriel seemed irked and brought up our last bet.
"You remember the bet we made?"
"Of course."
It was a rice cake that rolled right into my lap—no way I’d forget. We’d bet a wish slip on the midterm results.
"Then want to include this pop quiz score too? Add the performance assessment and participation score—all of it."
"Why the sudden change?"
What breeze was blowing? Was she that confident?
"Doesn’t matter. Are you in, or not?"
I nodded readily at her proposal.
"…I’ve got no reason to refuse."
Kiriel, who kept digging her own grave—she was a truly generous patron.
"Good, no take-backs."
"Same to you. Don’t cry when you lose."
"Please. I know you haven’t been studying lately—you’ve been busy prepping for the Territorial War. Your grades are obvious. I’ve been studying hard."
"…"
I suppressed the laugh trying to break out.
'So that’s the meager arithmetic behind your offer, huh.'
Cute.
While we were bickering—
Click-clack-
A deer in spectacles stepped up to the podium and greeted us.
"Good to see you again, everyone. I’m pleased to meet you once more."
The lecture hall, buzzing with student chatter, quickly fell silent.
Once Professor Isley confirmed the hush, he continued.
"There was a pop quiz scheduled for today. You all know the announced range, yes?"
"Yes!"
A hearty reply from the students.
Professor Isley followed with words that upset their expectations.
"But it’s no fun if everything goes exactly as planned. You’ve all been thoroughly reviewing and previewing as a habit, yes? Today’s pop quiz covers a scope expanded by about thirty percent beyond the announced range."
"Eh? That’s unfair!"
When Kiriel shouted, other students chimed in with grumbles of agreement.
Isley snorted as he spoke.
"Students, the world is inherently unfair. That’s why you must cultivate the habit of preparing in advance. You must revisit the road you’ve traveled and anticipate the road ahead."
Then he tilted his head and added:
"And if everyone’s scope changed together, what exactly is unfair about that?"
"…"
The class fell quiet at Isley’s single line.
Thinking about it, he wasn’t wrong.
Well… if we must nitpick fairness, compared to students who crammed only for this pop quiz, those who studied consistently would have the advantage.
And that might even be exactly what the professor wanted.
Professors would prefer students who work steadily to get the good scores, rather than the crammers.
"Then."
Rustle-
When Isley lifted his head, the test papers floating at his side delivered themselves to each student’s desk.
Distributing the papers, he added:
"I will not tolerate cheating or any other dishonest behavior. Remember, the spirits are always watching. The test begins now. You have forty minutes."
With his declaration, the hall sank into silence.
I focused and began reading through the questions.
The first question.
[Question 1. Among the five great elements and their representative colors, which pairing is incorrect?]
As a first problem, it wasn’t very difficult. Even Kiriel could solve it.
I answered it within seconds.
But the deeper I went, the more my temples started to throb.
[Question 14. Table (A) shows the change in ambient mana density within a closed system over time. Regarding the mana consumed when summoning spirits within the sector and the resistance values of spirits by attribute, …]
'What is this even saying.'
I frowned before I knew it as I read.
They called this an easy Spirit Studies course—what was with a problem like this.
'Hmm…'
After reading for a while, I grasped the essence.
It looked complicated at a glance, but upon careful inspection it was basically a standard calculation problem.
A math problem wearing the skin of Spirit Studies and mana.
'I’m sure this was in the past exam bank, too.'
I remembered seeing it in the Spirit Studies past questions I’d stored in the System ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ Encyclopedia.
I could solve it on my own without resorting to any cheating.
As the sound of pens skimming across paper filled the room—
"Uuugh."
Kiriel clawed at her hair like a puppy desperate to poop, darting glances at other students.
She shook her legs and chewed on her quill.
The latter problems were too hard for Kiriel.
No matter how much friends tutored you, skill didn’t improve all at once.
Fields bordering on quantitative reasoning require a solid foundation built step by step, like climbing stairs.
While I looked at her with pitying eyes, our gazes met.
"Heh."
When I smirked, Kiriel growled and trembled.
'You. Just. Wait.'
Her lips seemed to form the words.
'And what exactly will you do when I do?'
Time passed, and after the test—
"Please put down your pens."
Declaring the end, Isley had the spirits collect the papers.
Wood spirits that looked like tiny squirrels bustled over, gripping test sheets in their mouths and gathering at Isley’s side.
Watching the spirits was oddly cute and satisfying.
I thought having one would be convenient too.
'…Come to think of it, I did make a spirit contract.'
On the first day of Spirit Studies, with the System’s help, I successfully contracted the darkness spirit, Kavelthar.
Since then I’d been too busy to summon a spirit or look into the contract.
Nor had the spirit side reached out to me.
When I had time, I’d need to examine that closely too.
The Epic trait [Heukryeon] I hadn’t even known about myself, and the darkness spirit.
I had a feeling information about the person known as Loen was hidden there.
While I was thinking about spirits—
Isley spread the test papers out in the air and, with their help, finished grading in a flash.
Checking the results, he widened his limpid, deer-like eyes and said:
"Ho… this is quite an unexpected outcome."