Charlotte sat at her desk, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of open books and loose papers. The room itself was no better—notes littered the floor, quills and ink bottles lay abandoned wherever her hands had left them. Dark circles hung under her eyes, her hair was tangled, but her expression brimmed with restless excitement.
"Hmm… yes, the equation should be like this," she murmured, scribbling furiously onto a sheet of paper.
A moment later, her hand froze. "No… it doesn't work."
Frustration flared; she ripped the paper into shreds and tossed them aside.
"Haa… This subject is fascinating, but so damn hard…" she sighed, resting her head against the desk in defeat.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sudden sound at her door jolted her from her thoughts. She scrambled to her feet in a rush—only to trip over a stack of books and collapse with a dull thud.
"Ahh…" she groaned, clutching her knee. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upright and hobbled toward the door. With a deep breath, she grasped the handle and pulled it open.
As the door creaked open, a familiar figure stood before her. Vern. He wore a loose white shirt neatly tucked into his black trousers, the fabric hanging comfortably against his frame. His long dark hair, tied back in a simple knot, swayed slightly as he moved, looking almost the same as the day they had first arrived two weeks ago. To Charlotte, it was as though nothing about him had changed—calm, composed, and effortlessly dignified, in stark contrast to her own disheveled state.
"Have you finished your preparations?" Vern asked, stepping into the room without hesitation. His voice was steady, carrying that faint note of authority he always seemed to have, as though he expected an answer at once.
Charlotte, however, froze in place. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Her gaze lingered on him far longer than she realized—on the neatness of his attire, the sharpness in his expression, the casual grace in the way he carried himself. Compared to her messy hair, ink-stained fingers, and the chaos of the room, he seemed like a painting come to life, and for a moment, words deserted her completely.
"Hey, I asked you something," Vern repeated, this time frowning as his brows knitted together. His dark eyes studied her, clearly expecting a reply.
Charlotte jolted back to herself, heat rushing to her cheeks. "Ah… yes. I'm ready," she stammered, her voice faltering at first before she managed to gather herself and answer properly.
"You call this being ready? Go wash up." Vern's voice was stern, carrying the weight of a reminder—she wasn't a child anymore, and he expected her to act accordingly.
"Yes," Charlotte muttered quickly, lowering her head. She hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
A short while later, she stepped back into the room, now dressed in a modest red gown. Her messy hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, giving her a tidier, more composed appearance. Though she still looked a little flustered, she carried herself with more dignity than before.
"Have you packed your things?" Vern asked, his tone calm but still expectant.
"Yes, I have," Charlotte replied obediently, her voice softer this time.
"Good. Then let's go."
Without another word, Vern opened the door and stepped out first. Charlotte followed closely behind him, her footsteps quiet against the floor as she trailed in his shadow.
After walking for several minutes from their lodgings, they finally arrived before a massive iron gate. Its towering frame loomed over them like a guardian, solid and imposing. Above it hung a grand signboard, suspended proudly in the air. The letters etched upon it gleamed in bold strokes: Nalanda Institute.
The signboard itself stretched across nearly an entire kilometer, spanning so wide that anyone passing by from a distance would instantly recognize it. Through the gate, the sprawling campus revealed itself—tall buildings of stone and marble, their rooftops glittering faintly under the sun. From the outside alone, one could already sense the scale of the institute, a place that seemed to breathe knowledge and discipline.
Charlotte paused, her eyes tracing the sheer grandeur of the sign and the vastness beyond. A small flutter stirred in her chest before she quickened her pace, trailing behind Vern.
As they stepped through the iron doors, the scene shifted entirely. The quiet street outside was replaced by the lively bustle of the campus. Dozens—no, hundreds—of students moved about, filling the walkways and courtyards. Some wore the dark blue and white uniform of the institute, while others were dressed in their own clothes. The mix created a lively contrast.
Maybe they're here for the entrance test, Charlotte guessed, watching the nervous energy on many unfamiliar faces.
Vern suddenly stopped walking and glanced at his wristwatch. His expression remained composed, but his words were precise.
"It's 10:30. The exam begins at 11:30."
With that, he turned and walked toward a large notice board ahead. Sheets of parchment were posted across it, each filled with neat rows of names and corresponding rooms, designating where students were to take their examinations depending on the subject they had chosen.
Scanning the notice board, Vern's eyes quickly landed on his own name. It was listed under the Swordsmanship Department, allocated to Room 6, Building 5. After confirming it, he carefully searched further down until he found Charlotte's name. She was placed under the Alchemy Department, her examination assigned to Room 4, Building 10.
"Let's go. I'll take you to your allocated room first," he said calmly, before turning and walking ahead.
Charlotte followed silently at his side. The two of them made their way through the bustling campus, weaving past groups of students who were chatting nervously, revising last-minute notes, or standing in long lines at the refreshment stalls. Despite the stares that occasionally followed them—whispers trailing in their wake—Vern paid no attention and simply led the way with steady strides.
Before long, they reached the towering structure of the Tenth Building. Its stone walls carried an air of age and prestige, while students crowded around its entrance, some excited, others visibly anxious. Vern guided Charlotte through the crowd until they stopped before the door marked Room 4.
He turned to face her, his tone firm. "After finishing your exam, wait outside this building. Do not wander anywhere else. Is that understood?"
"Yes," Charlotte answered obediently, nodding quickly.
"Good." His expression softened just a fraction, and he added, "Make sure to write everything. Don't hold back."
Without waiting for her reply, Vern gave a final nod and turned away. His figure soon disappeared into the crowd, his long strides carrying him with purpose toward his own examination hall.
Charlotte stood there, staring at his retreating back until it vanished completely from her sight. Only then did she turn to the door, a quiet determination slowly rising within her chest.
Charlotte stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the rows of desks until she spotted her name etched neatly onto one near the middle. The classroom was already crowded, filled to the brim with students—some anxiously revising their notes, others whispering nervously among themselves. With a small sigh, she made her way over and sank into her seat.
Sigh… he's so strict. Her fingers traced the edge of the desk as she muttered under her breath. I can't even behave like I used to in the main house. For the last two weeks, I've had to study nonstop… and he even stayed up through the night just to make sure I didn't slack off.
Her shoulders slumped as a horrified expression spread across her face. If I don't pass this exam, he'll kill me…
"Excuse me? Are you Charlotte?"
The sudden voice snapped her out of her muttering. She turned around, blinking in surprise. Standing there was a girl she immediately recognized.
"I'm Salena Draken. We met before, in House Kael—do you remember?"
Salena's smile was polite, her white dress flowing gracefully as she stepped closer. Her long silver hair cascaded like a river of moonlight down her back, catching the light in a way that seemed almost unreal. To Charlotte, her beauty felt like something out of a painting—perhaps even the epitome of elegance itself.
"Ahh… yes, I remember. I'm Charlotte," she replied in a stammering voice, flustered under Salena's presence.
"Did you also choose alchemy as your main subject?" Salena asked curiously.
"Yes… Vern told me to study alchemy," Charlotte admitted with a small nod.
"Ohh, is that so? By the way… did Vern also take alchemy?" Salena's tone held a flicker of hope, as though the answer mattered more than she wanted to admit.
But Charlotte's reply dashed it. "No, he chose swordsmanship."
"I see…" Salena's voice softened, though her eyes betrayed a fleeting trace of disappointment.
The two girls lingered in quiet conversation, their voices hushed against the restless murmurs filling the room.
"So… Vern really stayed up with you every night while you studied?" Salena asked lightly, though there was a glimmer of something more in her tone.
"Yes," Charlotte answered honestly. "He was so insistent… I thought he would collapse before I did. He was always sitting at a distance, watching like a hawk to make sure I kept reading."
Salena blinked, then let out a soft laugh. "Oh, is that so?" she said. Her lips curved into a smile, but the corners of her eyes twitched ever so slightly, betraying a flicker of irritation she quickly tried to mask.
Charlotte, however, didn't notice. She was too busy sighing about her endless nights of study, entirely unaware of the undercurrent in Salena's expression.
Before their chatter could continue, the heavy sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. The instructor entered, a tall figure in gray robes, carrying a stack of papers under his arm. At once, the room quieted, nervous silence replacing idle conversation.
Salena leaned closer and whispered quickly, "I'll meet you after the exam, alright?"
Charlotte nodded. "Okay."
With that, both girls straightened in their seats, the air now heavy with anticipation as the examination was about to begin.