Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

The story about finding a significant other was about just that—a significant other—but what was more pressing to me at the moment was the letter I had received from my family.

I wanted to quickly read it, though I didn’t feel like doing so, so I only glanced at the name on the envelope a few times before leaving.

In the afternoon, I mentioned I would spend the rest of the day reading the letter, and my friends at lunch expressed their surprise.

“Mikael seems to be quite… family-oriented, doesn’t he?”

“Isn’t that how everyone is?”

“Well, I do appreciate my parents, but… we’re not really that affectionate with each other. Maybe I’m just not used to it since I don’t have any siblings.”

“I really like my older sister, but hmm… it’s not quite like Mikael’s relationship.”

“…”

Ivan shook his head sadly, and everyone burst out laughing.

I remembered that Ivan had once bought a lamp that glowed brightly in the middle of the day to give to his twin siblings, and in exchange, he had received last year’s calendar.

The heated debate about who bought the most useless item ended when they all saw how thoughtful Alan Holmos had been, recording all of last year’s family events on the calendar.

It was Ivan’s grand and humorous defeat.

We all shared stories about the senders of the letters we had received.

Marianne Philodendor was once standing with her sister before a duel with Edwin and had faced me.

I thought about her sister, who resembled Marianne, and listened to their conversation—about the two-year age difference between them, and how their younger siblings also seemed to have magical talent, causing financial worries for their education.

I found it interesting that her family, the Philodendor barons, was involved in the distribution of magical artifacts, so I made sure to remember that.

Damien Christopher was the firstborn of Count Christopher’s family, and he and Shaiden Rose were close neighbors.

I learned how Damien and Shaiden became so close—both being of the same age and set to inherit similar-sized estates, they had been seeing each other often from childhood. This had naturally strengthened their bond.

Damien mentioned his younger sister, who had recently been acting erratically, which caused him some concern.

Ivan Holmos, the fourth child of the baron family, told us that his twin brother Alan was the fifth.

His older siblings were already grown—his eldest sister was married, his second sister was traveling to another kingdom, and his third brother was involved in state affairs.

His parents were elderly, and his eldest sister managed the family estate. He was able to attend the academy thanks to his brother contributing to his tuition, so he had to reply to his third brother’s letters regularly, which he found delightful.

Jenny mentioned that her parents ran a farm in a rural area, not the capital.

Noticing her exceptional skills, the neighbors had suggested she take an exam, which eventually led her to come to the capital alone.

After studying for a year, she passed the entrance exam for Sieron Academy, and I found it fascinating, as I hadn’t thought deeply about commoners entering the academy.

Knowing that Jenny was aware of her situation, she briefly explained things in more detail.

The others listened nonchalantly, and I quietly paid attention.

“Commoners in Sieron are less illiterate compared to those in the five kingdoms. But the land is so vast, and transportation is expensive, so it’s common to live in one place your whole life. If I weren’t an only child, I wouldn’t even have dreamed of coming to the capital to study.”

Jenny began speaking about the life of commoners, sharing various stories.

Most of the nobility were involved in business, dealing with numbers and managing people, while commoners worked from morning to night and only took breaks when they had a chance.

Only those in better circumstances worked five days a week; farmers and fishermen, for example, had no fixed holidays and worked every day, resting only when they had a spare moment.

Jenny grew up seeing older neighbors serving younger nobles with respect. She aspired to be respected in the same way, so she started reading and studying at a young age.

She also shared that graduating from the academy would earn a commoner a lower noble title, but those with excellent grades could receive a higher title and settlement support.

Her current dream was for her parents to come live with her in the capital after they had worked hard in their old age, and I admired her devotion to them.

“It’s been a huge help to my parents. They supported me so that I could study full-time for a year. They never told me how hard it was for them, but I know it wasn’t easy.”

“…”

“Now, I feel proud that I can send part of my scholarship money to my parents. At my age, not many people are making this kind of money.”

I was deeply moved by her filial piety.

“Until I came to the academy, I received a lot of support from my parents. I know how difficult it must have been for them, but I can now help them with some of my earnings.”

Upon hearing Jenny’s story, I realized that some students studied for two or three years before even being able to attend the academy, which left me in deep thought.

As we all decided to write replies to our family letters, I returned to my room.

Sitting in the study, I planned to read the letters from my relatives carefully, but my head was dizzy, so I opened the window for some fresh air.

I was on the fourth floor of a ten-story dormitory.

This room had been a gift because my paternal grandfather held the title of count, and my father was a baron.

I had never experienced financial hardship. While I knew the tuition for Sieron Academy was expensive, I had never really given it much thought.

The common people in the Central Plains often went hungry more than they were full.

Most people, except those with high positions or wealthy merchants, lived modestly, working fields or hunting to survive each day.

When they were desperate, they sometimes resorted to becoming bandits or criminals, justifying their actions with the mindset of doing whatever it took to survive.

Even in the Central Plains, I, bearing the name of a prominent family, had never lacked for anything. Though the coins in my pocket might have been silver, not gold, I never went hungry.

I often ordered cheap dumplings and noodles at inns, but I never hesitated to share them with beggars.

Once, I had a monk friend from the Shaolin Temple.

He believed that everything in the world was according to the Buddha’s will. Even a starving child and a high-ranking official riding in a palanquin had the Buddha within them.

He also said that a lack of virtue in a past life would require one to accumulate virtue in the next, which merely observed the desperate lives of the hungry without offering salvation.

In Sieron, however, social status was clear.

The gods here clearly distinguished between the noble and the common, which led me to wonder if this was truly the Buddha’s will.

As I sat at my desk, I thought about the purpose of my birth in this land.

If being born into such a privileged position was the result of accumulating virtue in a past life, I would gladly accept it. But I couldn’t recall any such deeds, so it felt more burdensome than joyful.

Was I born to accumulate virtue or because of it? I pondered this as I sat back down at my desk, the window still open.

At that moment, I realized that I couldn’t disregard those who were most important to me.

The scratchy feel of the quill pen, soaked in ink, was firmer than a brush, and its unfamiliarity made me hesitate to write even a single greeting.

* * *

The weekend was spent studying, as usual.

It was May—the last month of the first semester of my first year, and also the month of final exams. However, after having experienced midterms, I wasn’t as flustered as before.

I was genuinely grateful for Professor Maelo Sanson’s way of teaching, which didn’t require theoretical exams. I decided that I would attend all of his classes in the next semester.

In the magic class, Professor Angela Sting announced that the final exam would test how smoothly I could perform the freezing formula, for which I deeply bowed and expressed my gratitude.

By then, thanks to Professor Angela Sting’s help, I was able to create the freezing formula on my own, albeit clumsily, so I was less worried.

The world history exam would be conducted in exactly the same manner as the midterm. Ruber had given us a few possible questions, so I decided to focus my studying on those.

Afterward, when Shayden saw me studying, he later mentioned that even if Prince Ruber never ascended to the throne, he would support him. I greatly agreed with that sentiment.

As for the imperial genealogy class, there were no cancellations as before, and weekly quizzes would take place, so I just had to pay close attention to the handouts.

I was also relieved to see that Professor Agrigent, who had been sickly for a while, had regained much of his health and was now walking with a firm posture.

The alchemy and camping classes were also the same as the midterms, requiring only the submission of assignments. Since Jenny had carefully taken notes and copied them for us, I was able to start on the assignments without taking extra time.

The group of younger students all agreed to finish the first assignment quickly, and thanks to their enthusiasm, I was able to follow along. I silently thanked myself for having good group members.

The exams for mana and aura were also conducted in the same manner as the midterms.

By now, I wasn’t afraid of memorizing set texts. However, when it came time to answer the questions, I still relied on Shayden and Damian’s help.

Since I was always the one receiving help, I was worried about how I could repay their kindness. To this, they responded that simply being close to them was enough, which made me feel happy.

And just like that, a hectic month flew by.