The two weeks leading up to the midterms became Ren's new, most perplexing battlefield. Gone were the grand strategies of legions and the intricate dance of court politics. In their place stood the daunting fortresses of Algebra II, the sprawling territories of World History, and the enigmatic landscapes of Chemistry. His imperial mind, accustomed to conquering nations, now wrestled with quadratic equations and the periodic table.
His primary tutor, Itami, was a fount of endless, if sometimes exasperating, patience. They spent hours in the library, surrounded by students equally consumed by their studies, the air thick with whispered facts and the frantic scratching of pens.
"Okay, so for history," Itami explained one afternoon, pointing at a timeline, "you just need to remember the key dates and the main events. Don't overthink the 'why,' just focus on the 'what' and 'when' for the exam."
Ren slammed his hand down on the textbook, a low growl escaping him. "But the 'why' is everything! The motivations of the leaders, the underlying societal currents, the unforeseen consequences of their actions!
This 'textbook' simplifies it to a series of disconnected incidents!" He pointed to a passage about a diplomatic treaty. "This was not merely a 'signing of papers'; it was a desperate gamble to avoid war, a betrayal by the northern lords, and a concession that ultimately led to the fall of a dynasty!"
Itami blinked, adjusting his spectacles. "Uh, yeah, well, Mrs. Albright just wants to know the date it was signed and what it said." He sighed. "Look, Ren, I know you know a lot about history, but it's like... a different kind of history for the exam. You gotta play by their rules."
The rules were infuriating. Ren, who had lived and shaped history, was now forced to regurgitate a sanitized, often inaccurate, version of it. It felt like a profound intellectual humiliation.
Mathematics was even worse. The abstract nature of the numbers, the lack of tangible application, baffled him. "Why must we find 'x' when 'x' has no discernible purpose in the governance of a nation or the logistics of an army?" he'd demand, staring at a page of equations.
"Because it's on the test, Ren!" Itami would reply, rubbing his temples. "Just follow the formula! It's like a spell, you just gotta cast it right."
Li Wei, when she could spare a moment from her own covert activities and the lingering unease about Sakura, offered pragmatic advice. "Think of it as a new language, Kaelen. Each subject, a new dialect. You must master the vocabulary and grammar to communicate effectively within this world's system." She even tried to teach him some mnemonic techniques, ancient memory aids disguised in modern terms. "Visualize the elements as your alchemical components, each with its own properties. The equations are the incantations to combine them." It helped, but only marginally.
The pressure mounted with each passing day. Ren's nights were filled with restless sleep, his dreams a chaotic blend of ancient battles and abstract formulas. His mother, sensing his stress, would bring him late-night snacks, her worried frown deepening with each passing hour. Maya offered him her own meticulously organized study notes, a gesture of genuine concern.
But beneath the domestic anxieties and academic struggles, the true pressure came from Valerius. Ren could feel his nemesis's presence in the school, a subtle, cold hum that seemed to mock his every struggle. He knew Valerius was effortlessly mastering these subjects, preparing to dominate the midterms, not just to pass, but to assert his intellectual superiority, to rub Kaelen's nose in his new, pathetic reality.
The thought of failing, of giving Valerius that satisfaction, fueled a desperate fire within Ren. He was Emperor Kaelen. He had never shied from a challenge, no matter how daunting. He might be disarmed, displaced, and bewildered, but his will remained unbroken.
He would not be outmaneuvered, not even by a "midterm exam." He would fight this academic war with the same tenacity he had fought on the battlefield. The textbooks became his new weapons, the formulas his new spells, and the examination hall, his next, most unlikely, arena.