Bankrupt Erich

Behind the academy gates lay a straight stone-paved avenue, lined on both sides with ancient, unnamed trees. Freshmen walked in groups toward the main building. Erich and Irene blended into the crowd, heading first to the supply distribution center according to the guide map in their manila envelopes.

It was a large classroom on the first floor of the main building, where several upperclassmen were responsible for distributing basic items: two sets of standard robes and a set of simple alchemy tools.

After collecting their supplies, the two of them followed the guide toward the infirmary for their aptitude assessment and school emblem binding.

The infirmary was not far from the main building, a standalone two-story building. By the time Erich and Irene arrived, about a dozen people were already waiting in line at the entrance.

After waiting for about ten minutes, it was Irene's turn.

“Go on in,” Erich said, gesturing toward the door with his chin.

Irene pushed the door open and went inside. Erich leaned against the doorframe, peeking in through the half-open door.

The interior of the infirmary was much larger than it looked from the outside. The walls were painted stark white, and in the very center of the room was a desk. A fist-sized crystal ball rested on it, and behind the desk sat a middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a deep blue teacher's robe.

“A freshman? Come on over.” The man looked up at Irene and spoke in a friendly tone. “Channel your mana into the crystal ball. Take your time, no need to rush.”

Irene placed both hands on either side of the crystal ball, a faint blue glow rising from her hands.

A blue-green light burst from within the crystal ball, growing increasingly dazzling. The entire sphere looked as though it held a tropical ocean, with light churning and surging inside.

The teacher's expression turned joyful. He watched the light gradually settle inside the crystal ball, nodded, and said warmly:

“Excellent talent in both the elemental and life systems. In time, you will surely reach the sixth rank, the Domain Lord level, and perhaps even higher.”

Irene was also incredibly excited. “Really? Thank you, Teacher!”

“Mhm.” The teacher smiled, turning to look at the crystal display screen on his desk. “Irene... you're a special-admission student?”

“Yes.”

“No wonder your talent is so outstanding. Tuition is completely waived for special-admission students. Come over here, place your school emblem on this pedestal, and just let a drop of blood fall on it.”

He pointed to a palm-sized silver metal pedestal at the corner of the desk. There was a slot in the middle, just large enough to hold the school emblem.

Irene placed her school emblem into the slot, took the silver needle the teacher handed her, and pricked her finger to drop a bead of blood onto the emblem.

The moment the blood touched the surface of the badge, it was absorbed. The badge vibrated slightly, then projected a palm-sized light screen, neatly displaying Irene's basic information.

“Your dormitory assignment and other details will be recorded on it. In the upper years, course selection is also done through the school emblem.” As he spoke, the teacher pulled a small white card from his drawer and handed it to Irene. “My name is Clive Hawthorne, one of the first-year elemental magic instructors. If you have any academic questions in the future, you can contact me.”

The card was printed with Hawthorne's name and a string of numbers, which served as a remote communication number in this world.

Irene took the card, carefully tucked it into her bag, and bowed. “Thank you, Instructor Hawthorne.”

The few freshmen waiting in line at the door witnessed the entire process. Their eyes converged on Irene in unison—filled with envy, jealousy, and a touch of resentment. The greatest hope for many commoner students at the academy was to establish a connection with an instructor or a noble. For Irene to win an instructor's favor right after entering the school was a stroke of luck that naturally made others green with envy.

Once Irene stepped out, Erich patted her shoulder. “Congratulations.”

“Mhm!” Irene nodded vigorously.

Then, it was Erich's turn.

Hearing the sound of his footsteps entering, Hawthorne looked up, his gaze falling on Erich's striking, long silver hair.

“Erich.” Hawthorne's tone sank instantly. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

Erich raised an eyebrow. Another acquaintance—or rather, another person who knew Erich Edmond. He was already getting used to it.

“Come on, then.” A smirk played on Hawthorne's lips. “Let me see just what level the trash of the Edmond family has.”

Erich didn't reply. He silently placed his hand on the crystal ball, channeling his mana into it.

A pure white light lit up, but it was incredibly faint, as if it might flicker out at any moment.

Hawthorne stared at the sphere, his expression a mix of amusement—half schadenfreude, half relief.

“All-element magic affinity. To think a person like you actually has all-element affinity. Fortunately, your level of affinity is low, otherwise this world would have one more scourge to deal with.”

Erich said nothing. He pulled his school emblem from his pocket, preparing to place it on the silver pedestal.

Hawthorne reached out and stopped him.

“Though your information has been entered, the Edmond family has cast you out, so naturally they won't be paying your tuition. According to the tradition for noble admissions, it is a minimum of thirty-five gold coins. If you're short even a single copper, you leave immediately.”

This sum was an astronomical amount to an ordinary person; a commoner family's total annual income was only about a dozen gold coins. Hawthorne clearly didn't believe that Erich, who had been kicked out of his family, could produce such a fortune.

With an expressionless face, Erich reached into his waist pouch and began counting out coins one by one. After counting thirty-five, he pushed the small pile of glittering gold discs in front of Hawthorne.

“Thirty-five. Want to count them?”

Hawthorne stared at the pile of gold coins, his expression souring. He clearly hadn't expected this cast-off playboy to produce such a massive sum of money. But since he had already spoken, he had no choice but to accept it, however unwillingly.

He let out a cold snort, swept the gold coins into a cloth bag, and pointed to the silver pedestal.

Erich placed his school emblem on it and dropped his blood. Hawthorne tapped the screen a few times, finalizing the registration, and waved his hand without even looking up, signaling him to leave.

Erich turned and left. Just as he reached the door, he heard Hawthorne mutter in a low voice behind him.

“Hope you enjoy your new roommate, Erich.”