The Witmore Academy, located in the Tehira Empire.
It was one of the Empire’s most prestigious institutions, widely known as a leading academy. Its reputation could easily be understood from the fact that many of the Empire’s past emperors, renowned scholars, great knights, and outstanding mages had all graduated from Witmore.
Even so, the ones attending the academy now were, in the end, nothing more than young students.
“As the new term begins, all students must remember to conduct themselves properly as members of a distinguished academy…”
Inside the grand hall, a massive number of students stood in orderly rows. On the stage at the front stood the academy’s headmaster at the podium, with faculty members seated behind him.
The break had ended, and a new term had begun. Gathered in the grand hall for the opening ceremony, the students were participating in what was supposed to be a solemn occasion marking the start of the new term. From the outside, it looked impressive, but in reality, it was nothing more than a tedious time spent listening to the headmaster’s unbearably dull speech.
A yawn slipped out before he could stop it. Ruite opened his mouth wide as another yawn escaped, and immediately felt a sharp gaze from the side. A professor patrolling the area had caught him in the act.
After being scolded for nearly tearing his mouth open with that yawn, Ruite scratched his head with a shameless smile. Fortunately, it didn’t escalate into anything serious. As he glanced around to check if any other professors were watching like hawks, his eyes met someone else’s.
Beneath dark black hair, sharp eyes gleamed with a striking intensity. At first glance, the face was so impressive it could draw an involuntary gasp. That same face was now looking straight at him, brows deeply furrowed. He must have seen the whole scene—Ruite yawning and getting reprimanded.
Ruite gave him an awkward smile as well before quickly looking away.
Just as he felt he might collapse from boredom, the headmaster’s speech finally came to an end. The remaining ceremony proceeded smoothly, and before long, the opening ceremony was over. As soon as dismissal was announced, the grand hall filled with chatter.
Today held only this event; classes would properly begin tomorrow. The thought of returning to the dormitory and sleeping as long as he pleased immediately lifted Ruite’s mood.
As he stepped outside, warm sunlight poured down. If only every day could be this bright and pleasant. He had just begun thinking that when a commotion broke out behind the hall.
“Hey, I heard the seasonal event is happening again!”
“Who’s confessing this time?”
At someone’s shout, students began rushing toward one spot. The so-called seasonal event referred to a confession.
It was a long-standing tradition: if you confessed to the person you liked behind the Witmore grand hall on the day of the spring opening ceremony, not only would your feelings be returned, but you would also marry that person and stay together until old age—a legend passed down through generations.
Of course, no one knew how that legend started or whether it had any real effect. Superstitions were like that.
In practice, not many students actually carried it out. After all, confessing in such an open place—especially at a location tied to a public legend—was no small hurdle. Recently, however, the seasonal event had become increasingly popular.
“Oh? Ruite, there you are.”
Dylan approached, his curly hair bouncing as he moved.
“Yeah, I was just heading back to the dorm—”
“You’re going to watch the event too, right? Come on, let’s go.”
“Wait—what?”
Before Ruite could say he had no interest in it, Dylan grabbed his arm and dragged him straight toward the noisy crowd. As expected of someone from the Department of Swordsmanship, his strength was overwhelming.
“Hey, I said I’m fine—”
“What’s the harm? Things are more fun when you watch them together.”
Ruite wanted to ask what exactly was fun about it. He didn’t know who would be confessing, but he already knew both the recipient and how it would end.
Still, unable to resist Dylan’s grip, Ruite was eventually pulled to the back of the hall where a large crowd had gathered. Before he knew it, thanks to Dylan’s skillful maneuvering, they were standing right at the very front.
“Did they already confess?”
Dylan asked excitedly, and an eager voice nearby replied, “They already did!” At Dylan’s disappointed remark that they should have come earlier, Ruite sighed and looked up.
A female student with neatly braided hair flushed shyly, and standing before her was a male student with black hair—the same one who had frowned while watching Ruite get scolded earlier.
The reason this legendary event had gained such popularity was none other than the most sought-after man at Witmore Academy—Chester Callaway.
“I’m sorry.”
At that moment, his calm voice rang out. It sounded like a rejection, and murmurs spread through the crowd. Still, most reacted as if they had expected it.
“I can’t date you, and I can’t marry you.”
Then Ruite felt Chester’s gaze directly on him. Under that sharp look, Ruite forced the corners of his lips up into a faint smile and avoided eye contact.
“There he goes again. He says that every time someone confesses to him.”
Dylan tilted his head, stroking his chin.
“At this point, doesn’t it seem like his family already chose someone for him? And that person is probably a student here. It’s like he’s saying it for that person to hear.”
Dylan laughed and slapped Ruite’s back. It sounded like a joke, but Ruite couldn’t laugh.
Because the person chosen for Chester was indeed a student at this academy.
And that person was him.
“Do you think Lea is an Omega? I mean, Chester looks like an Alpha.”
“Who knows? Even if Chester is an Alpha, with a face like that, does it really matter?”
In this world, there was something called secondary traits. Those with special physical characteristics and pheromones were classified as Alpha or Omega, while ordinary people who belonged to neither were called Beta. Witmore Academy consisted mostly of Betas, with a small number of Alphas and Omegas.
However, since they were still students, the distinctive traits had not fully manifested, so it was possible for everyone to live together regardless of classification.
“Yeah, with that face, I guess you’re right. Anyway, another failure. I wonder who Chester will end up with.”
As the seasonal event ended once again without any result, the gathered students began dispersing, chatting about Chester. The girl who had confessed looked a little sad, but soon seemed relieved.
Standing absentmindedly among the students heading off to their own destinations, Ruite suddenly wondered why he had been dragged here to waste time. If he had left earlier, he would already be lying in his dorm bed, fast asleep.
“What did you come here for?”
A voice came from beside him. Startled, Ruite turned his head to see Chester standing there, expressionless.
“Were you that curious whether I’d accept a confession or not?”
Not quite understanding what he meant, Ruite stared blankly for a moment. Without another word, Chester turned and walked away.
Left alone, Ruite scratched his cheek.
“It’s not like I care who you end up with…”
His quiet words dissipated into the air. Chester’s cold attitude—and even what he had just said—was understandable. It didn’t upset him at all.
After all, everything would be neatly resolved on the day of graduation.
Yes. He only had to endure until graduation.
***
“Good morning, Ruite.”
“Morning, Dylan. My arm still aches from you dragging me yesterday, so I didn’t sleep well—but still, good morning.”
“That’s one intense greeting.”
Dylan, a Beta and a third-year like Ruite, was his usual meal companion. He laughed casually at Ruite’s blunt remark and picked up a tray.
The two of them joined the long line inside the dorm cafeteria.
“You say you didn’t sleep well, but you look pretty refreshed.”
Dylan turned to examine Ruite’s face.
“Actually, I slept really well. I had a good dream.”
“Oh? What kind?”
“A dream about graduating.”
Dylan’s expression turned slightly uncertain, as if unsure whether that counted as a good dream. Opinions among Witmore students would probably be split.
Some wanted to graduate as soon as possible and become adults, while others preferred to remain within the safety of the academy. Ruite, however, belonged to the former.
Not because he wanted to grow up quickly.
But because that was when his chance to change his bleak future would finally come.
He couldn’t even remember exactly when he had transmigrated into this fantasy novel he only vaguely knew by name. It must have been near the end of his second year at the academy. He had opened his eyes in the dorm room to an unfamiliar world and nearly fainted from shock.
For a while, he had simply stared blankly, thinking, So this is what transmigrating into a novel feels like.
Then, the moment it happened, as if by some twist of fate, the main plot of the original story and all the details about the character he had become flooded into his mind.
It was a welcome advantage for someone unfamiliar with the story—but it quickly turned into despair.
Because the role he had taken was that of a villain who would later torment and entangle the protagonist.
In this world, political marriages between noble families were extremely common—and that was the problem.
The Everhart family, into which Ruite had been born as the eldest son, had long maintained ties with the Callaway ducal house, one of the most prestigious families in the Empire.
However, while the Callaway family continued to grow stronger, the Everhart family was gradually weakening.
In the end, the count’s house had no choice but to make a move.
And that move was to marry their eldest son—born as an Omega—to an Alpha from the Callaway family.
“Oh, there’s Chester.”
As they sat down and began eating, Dylan leaned in and whispered, looking toward a certain spot.