The Last Godfall: Transmigrated as the Young Master

The voices sharpened as Vencian's eyes fixed on the far side of the hall. Students leaned aside to catch sight of the exchange, but the details of their words slipped through the distance. What reached him was tone—cold from one side, pressed from the other.

Yanis Rusmar stood opposite Seris Valemont, her arms drawn close to her chest. She tried to speak, chin lifted, but each sentence seemed cut short by Seris's replies.

Seris's gaze carried through the crowd like a knife point. Her words came clipped, precise, each one leaving no room to rise against them. She didn't even needed raise her voice.

"…if that is the best you can manage, then your place in this hall is charity, never merit," Seris said.

Yanis's lips tightened. "You're twisting it. That isn't what I meant."

"It is exactly what you meant. You only lack the wit to recognize it."

The small ring of listeners shifted uneasily. Some whispered, some pretended to work, but none left. Yanis's reply came too quickly, a thin shield against steel.

"I don't have to prove myself to you."

"Indeed. You cannot."

The words landed merciless. Yanis flushed, stepping closer, but her reply cracked midway.

Vencian noted how Seris stood— untouched by the heat rising in Yanis's tone. There was no triumph in her expression, only the calm of one who judged from above and expected no appeal.

His gaze drifted across the hall and caught Aline's. Coincidentally, she was looking his way too. But her expression was different. Pity or sorry…? He couldn't tell.

Before it could build further, Professor Marothil's voice carried over the room. "That will suffice."

The command silenced the hall. He spoke low, but the room stilled at once.

Both girls lowered their gazes to their work. Seris turned a page without another glance. Yanis copied a line of text with more force than the quill required.

Marothil's eyes passed over them once, then moved on as if nothing had happened.

Saely leaned toward their own desk, muttering under her breath, "Better him than anyone else. Nobody else could've stopped that so quick."

Professor Marothil let the silence linger a breath longer before speaking. "You have done enough for today. Keep your drafts. Tomorrow, we continue with the presentations."

The room stirred with shuffling parchment and scraping benches, while a few students leaned in to whisper about the argument.

Vencian closed his packet, wondering how many more days would end the same way. Another loud quarrel, and nothing ever comes of it.

Saely tucked her notes away with brisk efficiency, already chatting about who might falter during tomorrow's debates. Rapheldor said little, though his attention returned once more to Vencian, holding questions he did not voice.

They left their desk together, filtering into the flow of students heading for the doors. The air outside the hall carried the faint chill of afternoon, and Vencian was reminded how much longer the days stretched here than back home.

Saely slowed near the doors, clutching her packet under one arm. Her pace suggested she had somewhere specific to be, though she did not say what. She gave them both a quick smile before slipping into the parting crowd, her braid brushing over her shoulder as she disappeared.

Vencian spotted Elias first. The prince leaned against the wall near the base of the stairwell, his posture loose, hair slightly ruffled as though he had run a hand through it too many times during the assignment.

Elias said, holding up his packet like proof of crime. "Two hours I will never get back."

Vencian allowed a small exhale that passed for a laugh. "You managed then."

"Managed is one word. Survived, maybe." Elias tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. "And you?"

Vencian tapped his own packet. "Finished before the bell."

"That explains your face. You look far too calm." Elias shook his head. "My partners cared more about arguing than finishing. I spent the whole time keeping them from tearing each other apart."

Rapheldor had been a step behind them, quiet through Saely's departure. Now he closed the space between and inclined his head toward Elias. "Elias."

The prince blinked, then offered a smile that seemed half genuine, half reminder of their shared standing. "Herrera. Did not expect to see you tagging with Vencian."

"I was in his group." Rapheldor's words were plain, his stance straight. "Day's done. Walking together makes it less dull."

It surprised Vencian that Rapheldor admitted it without formality, almost casual. He adjusted the strap of his satchel on his shoulder, letting the movement mask the glance he gave the boy.

Rapheldor had always struck him as guarded, someone who wore rivalry as armor. Seeing him ease into their company suggested either intent or weariness. Perhaps both.

They fell into stride together, emerging into the courtyard where the evening light stretched across stone paths.

Students spread out across the open grounds, some lingering in clusters, others heading toward the gates.

Elias broke the quiet first, rolling his shoulders. "Hard to believe we've only got a year left here. Soon the academy will send us back into the world we belong to."

"Less than a year," Rapheldor said. "One term, and then the fifth."

Vencian nodded once. He had measured the same. The fifth term was the one everyone mentioned—compressed days, overlapping expectations, schedules built to test who endured and who failed. Professors reminded them frequently that it would be relentless. He wondered how many would fall short when it arrived.

"It passes quick," Elias said. "I feel like I only arrived last season."

"That is because you spend half your hours asleep," Vencian said. The words slipped out before he checked them, though the edge was softened by the trace of a smirk.

Elias gave him a look as if weighing a retort. Then he laughed quietly. "Fair. But you are not wrong. I should have known better than to complain to you."

Vencian tilted his head, acknowledging it without answer.

Rapheldor glanced between them. His hand brushed over the strap of his own bag, fingers tightening once. "The fifth term is the one that will matter. What comes after is decided there."

Vencian recognized the truth of it, though hearing it from Rapheldor gave it a different weight. Vencian wondered if Rapheldor had thought about it every day since.

Elias groaned lightly. "Then we are finished. I have no interest in surviving two bells of endless decrees only to face a term that demands three times as much."

"You speak as if you plan to fail before it begins," Rapheldor said.

Vencian caught Elias's smirk. The prince wasn't offended, though his weariness showed. He liked turning complaints into humor, even when the weight of truth pressed beneath.

They reached the outer path where trimmed hedges lined the walkway. A group of younger students crossed ahead of them, lowering their voices when they noticed who passed.

His mind slipped again to the schedule waiting for him. Sorting through today's notes, drafting a reply to his mother, visiting Deluos.

Elias broke the silence. "I heard a rumor. Might be worthless, but it was odd enough to remember."

Rapheldor's eyes shifted toward him. "What rumor?"

"That the academy expects exchange students next term. From the Prouba Republic." Elias's expression carried doubt, though curiosity pulled at his words.

Vencian slowed slightly at the name. "Our kingdom hardly ever allows foreigners to study here."

"Exactly," Elias said. "But the one who told me swore he overheard two professors discussing it."

Rapheldor's brow furrowed. "Why would they send them here?"

"To remind us of their alliance," Vencian said. He weighed the words carefully. "Or to test something. Either way, it means the court approved."

"That is enough reason," Rapheldor said. "Allies send coin, men, or presence. Students are presence."

Elias shook his head. "Or distraction. Imagine how loud the hall will grow with them here. Half the class will want to prove themselves against foreigners."

"That may be the reason," Vencian said. "Introduce competition and watch who rises."

The thought settled between them. Vencian's mind turned inward again. Exchange students would mean more variables, more eyes, more questions. He had too many already. If the rumor proved true, it would not be a welcome change.

They continued toward the gates. Elias stretched once, letting his arms drop back at his sides. "Whatever it is, it will make the year less predictable. At least it won't be the same old decrees putting us to sleep."

"You should be more concerned with the examinations than entertainment," Rapheldor said.

"And you should try worrying less," Elias answered.

Vencian let the words pass without comment. Both were true, and both missed the point. The fifth term would strip them down regardless of how they prepared or complained. That was its purpose.

The gates neared, the evening light catching the stone above them. Students gathered there in clusters, some waiting for carriages, others choosing to linger longer.

Vencian adjusted his packet one last time, mind already setting the order of his night.