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Chapter 225

“The Royal Class...” the president muttered, seeming to realize anew the overwhelming capabilities of the Royal Class students.

“It only took two first-year students to create such an item. This Magic Research Club is comprised of such first-years.”

What I was presenting wasn’t entirely baseless.

While it wasn’t overwhelming evidence, it was certainly something.

“If these students defy common sense, I’m confident they can produce extraordinary results.”

The Royal Class wasn’t a place for common sense. It was home to individuals who were not supposed to be judged by ordinary standards.

It was a place where individuals with talents—often impossibilities personified—worked miracles naturally.

At the peak of this unreasonableness sat someone like Ellen Artorius. Or someone like Harriet de Saint-Ouen.

I understood that all this was perhaps still not thoroughly convincing.

“If the lack of results is the issue, then we’ll bring forth something similar, or even more impressive.”

The issue wasn’t the lack of funding, but rather the need for tangible achievements to secure additional funds. If we needed to produce some reasonable results before we could increase our allocated budget, then we could fast-track some plausible accomplishments.

Cristina’s Alchemy and Adelia’s Magic Crafting...

With the two of them, we could produce things that warranted notice.

Of course, the key issue was time.

“However, setting subsidiary goals detracts from our main objectives, and that’s why I’m here,” I said.

Both the president and vice president remained silent for a while.

“We’ll be reviewing it,” they finally said.

“Thank you.”

Even though mere consideration had seemed impossible initially, it had now been achieved.

“On a personal note, Reinhart. You’re not a magic major, are you?” The Head Student Council president asked as she scrutinized me.

“... Yes, that’s correct.”

That was strange. I had introduced myself, but hadn’t mentioned my major.

“Why are you the president of the Magic Research Club then?” she asked.

“... They’re all bookworms focused on their studies, so someone needed to step in and handle such responsibilities. I took on the role reluctantly.”

“... You have a wide range of interests. Just as expected.”

‘A wide range of interests, huh. And “Just as expected”—what did that mean?’

“Do you know me?” I asked.

The implication that she already knew about me made me tilt my head in confusion.

“Of course.”

It wasn’t the president who answered, but the vice president.

“Because of what you did, we’ve all been pulling all-nighters.”

“... What did I do?”

“Orbis Class.”

“Oh.”

It was the Orbis Class incident.

That the Head Student Council knew about this was one thing, but why were they pulling all-nighters because of it?

The vice president, Hermann von Rogarius, handed another handkerchief to Raine Carly, who had started bleeding from her nose again, and explained with a calm expression, “With Orbis Class going into emergency suspension, the festival competition has been canceled.”

“Ah...”

“So, we’re all staying up to prepare something else to replace that competition.”

The Orbis Class had been suspended, and subsequently, the scheduled event had also been canceled.

The Head Student Council members were racking their brains and working around the clock to fill that gap with something else.

What could I say?

Encountering the results of the butterfly effect in the most unexpected places never stopped being jarring.

So, the Head Student Council had known about me even before our meeting, and it was clear that their impression of me wasn’t great.

The fact that neither the president nor vice-president had cursed me out when I came asking for money was surprising.

If I were them, I would’ve kicked myself out the moment I stepped in.

I had to admit that these two were much more generous than I had expected.

***

The Head Student Council had not yet decided to provide the funding. They had simply agreed to review it. So nothing was certain yet.

Even if we got additional funding, it still might not be enough. Regardless, the more money, the better.

Life was unpredictable, and there were too many variables.

At the beginning of the semester, I never would have imagined that, by the second semester, I’d be running around looking for research funding.

I had expected to engage in various extracurricular activities, but never did I think I’d be going around begging for money.

If the Head Student Council denied our request, it was possible that I would need to make the club rush out some other projects so that we could deliver some tangible results to bolster our list of achievements.

For now, there was no other option but to wait for the student council’s decision.

Upon returning to the Royal Class dormitory, Olivia Lanche was waiting for me outside the first-year dormitory.

“Reinhart, how did it go?” she asked.

“... Why are you here?”

“What, can’t I come see my future husband?”

She pouted and pretended to be hurt, making it even more exasperating.

‘It’s maddening because her antics are surprisingly charming and cute!’

The kids passing by were giving me weird looks again. I’d been trying so hard to maintain my image lately, but the moment Olivia showed up, it all went south.

As Riana passed by, she gave me a look that said, ‘Oh, this guy just loves girls doesn’t he? Tsk tsk,’ while shaking her head.

“I never agreed to any of that, and I don’t want to, so stop doing this in front of everyone!” I said to Olivia.

“Oh my, then is it okay if it’s not in front of everyone...?”

‘Good grief. As if you wouldn’t freak out if it actually came to that.’

“Hah. Alright then, how about we go somewhere more private?”

I lowered my voice menacingly, and Olivia Lanche flinched and her shoulders trembled.

“A-Ah, th-that was... I was joking! Just kidding, you know!”

Olivia’s exaggerated gestures and the cold sweat pouring out of her was enough for me to know that she feared I’d actually drag her somewhere.

Now I understood how to deal with her.

It was a matter of being firm. She was a different kind of scaredy-cat compared to Adelia.

“So, what do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to know how the budget negotiations went... Why do you always get mad at me when you see me...?”

She looked genuinely hurt and slightly forlorn.

‘Ah... Maybe I did go a bit overboard...’

She knew that I was concerned about this matter, and had come to check on the progress. In her own way, she was on my side, so perhaps it wasn’t right to be too harsh on her.

“They said they’d consider our request, rather than outright denying it. The outcome is still uncertain, though.”

She’d actually been a big help, but her obvious flirting was way over the top.

Ellen was watching me from afar. I wasn’t sure why, but it was terrifying. She was just watching, with an expression that said, ‘Oh, that person’s here again.’

‘I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack! Am I going to die? I feel like I’m going to die!

‘I don’t know why, but I just feel like it!’

Luckily, Olivia didn’t say anything weirder and changed the topic.

“I’ve been thinking about it, you know. About your funding. I think there’s a way to get it.”

‘Wait a minute. Funding? What idea does she have?’

I didn’t know what she was thinking, but more money was always welcome, and Olivia seemed to know of another way to get it.

“What is it?”

“Get donations.”

“... Sorry?”

‘I’ve seen a lot in my life, but... to just seek donations because we’re low on money? What kind of mindset is this?’

***

No one was going to invest in us, and increasing the allocated budget was difficult.

Thus, the answer was simple: get donations.

‘Did I hear her correctly?’

Olivia Lanche had said it with such a self-confident air, almost as if expecting me to praise her for her cleverness.

“... It seems like that mindset of yours comes from your past devotion to a religious group, which makes a lot of money that way.”

Given her upbringing in the Order, she had probably grown up with the notion that, whenever they were short on funds, a kind, rich and devout devotee would always be there to provide. This kind of audacious thinking was probably natural for her.

While she might have forsaken her faith, it seemed she hadn’t abandoned that mindset.

However, Olivia looked genuinely shocked by my words.

“Y-You... really think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

Olivia’s expression turned woeful. She looked genuinely sad. This woman’s mood swings were beyond agile; if I remembered correctly, she never used to have this kind of personality.

‘Isn’t she borderline bipolar?’

Olivia pouted and glared at me. “I was talking about a sponsorship gathering, you idiot.”

“... Sponsorship gathering?”

Olivia gave a short huff, showing just how miffed she was.

‘What exactly is this person’s nature? She seems to possess a bizarre mix of practically every character trait—she’s sometimes cool, sometimes incredibly kind, sometimes justice-driven, and sometimes acts like a tsundere. The crazy part is, every bit of it fits her, and it drives me nuts.’

Olivia crossed her arms, puffed her cheeks slightly in a pout, then slowly started to explain.

“Even though the Royal Class runs on capital from the Temple, there are also sponsorship gatherings. Just like your club, having more funds is always better.”

Sponsorship gatherings... I had never heard of such a thing before.

“Do a lot of rich people attend?”

“If rich people didn’t attend, what would be the point? The purpose of a sponsorship gathering is for them to connect with prospective talents, the Temple faculty, or the entire Royal Class. Only students from the fourth year onwards are allowed to attend, so younger students might not know about it, but these events do exist.”

These sponsorship gatherings were for students from the fourth year and up.

In the original novel, the Gates opened in the third year, so this sort of event never showed up.

“It’s not just rich individuals. Various influential organizations such as the Magic Association and the prestigious knightly orders also send their representatives. They provide personal sponsorships, and sometimes sponsor the Temple or the Royal Class as a whole.”

The attendees of these sponsorship gatherings were looking to support or recruit future outstanding talent, or to build connections... Now that I thought about it, it made perfect sense.

After all, the Temple’s students were the most talented people in the empire. Magic majors might attract interest from the Magic Association, combat majors from the knightly orders, and superhumans could be scouted by any organization that required people with combat skills.

The same applied to non-combat majors.

A smart guy like Louis Ankton might even receive better treatment from another organization.

“So, I thought I’d go to this sponsorship gathering and find someone to support your club. But you just called me an idiot. Hmph.”

She seemed deeply offended by my earlier assumption that she was making a ridiculous claim because she’d come from a religious group that relied heavily on personal donations.

‘Oh, you think I’m just a complete moron, don’t you?’ must have been her thought.

I might have been a bit harsh. After all, she was an angel planning to secure funds for us.

“U-Um... I a-apologize. That was my mistake.”

“Is that it?”

“... Sorry?”

“You think just saying sorry is enough?” Olivia tapped her cheek lightly, clearly expecting something. “You should at least give me a kiss on the cheek.”

“Oh, just get lost!”

‘Of course, it always ends like this!’