The Strongest Student of the Weakest Academy-Chapter 165: Silverleaf Academy (13)
The wooden door to Hot Pot Haven swung open with a cheerful creak, letting out a puff of spicy steam as the trio stepped back into the cool evening air.
Aestrea let out a sigh of relief, stretching his arms behind his head.
"Hotpot is good and all, but I swear I've lost five pounds in sweat."
"That's the spice detox, bro." Derek grinned, patting his belly.
"Cleanses your soul. And your sinuses."
"You ate half the pot," James snorted, slinging his jacket over his shoulder.
"You're gonna sweat for a week."
"Worth it." Derek raised a peace sign.
"Also, dibs on the leftover broth next time."
Aestrea chuckled softly.
They strolled down the lamp-lit street, past food stalls and small shops, the quiet hum of nightlife giving the academy town a cozy, lived-in feel.
"Oh! Did you hear about the third-year who enchanted his laundry? Accidentally made all his boxers sentient," James said with a grin.
"Again? That's the second time this semester, and it just began!" Derek laughed. "Why is it always the underwear?"
"Because everyone wants their boxers to be self-cleaning, and no one reads the side effects," Aestrea added indifferently.
"Next thing you know, they'll unionize." James wagged a finger.
"Rise of the Clothborn begins."
Upon hearing those words, all of them burst into laughter—
But they were quickly interrupted.
HOOOOOOONK—!
The blare of a deep, regal horn echoed through the street, followed by the heavy clatter of hooves and the rumble of thick wheels.
All three of them stopped in their tracks as golden lights danced across the cobblestones.
A massive, enchanted carriage came into view.
Midnight blue and gold, pulled by four radiant white steeds with manes like silk and hooves that barely touched the ground.
Royal banners fluttered on the sides—emblazoned with the imperial crest.
Aestrea narrowed his eyes as the carriage rolled toward the Academy's main gate.
"Is that...?" Derek trailed off.
"They finally arrived!" James nearly vibrated with excitement, clenching his fists like a kid after getting his Christmas's gift.
The boys stepped to the side, watching as the royal carriage passed, behind its enchanted glass windows, faint silhouettes could be seen.
"That's gotta be the Second Princess in there," James said under his breath.
Aestrea didn't speak.
"And if she's here, then Lucas has to be too," James added.
"The Hero, and his whole squad. But..." James's voice trailed off.
And in that instant, Derek intervened, whistling.
"The question is..." He glanced at Aestrea.
"Is the Saintess Christina there?"
Aestrea raised an eyebrow at his words.
The chances of Christina being there were basically null since she was probably going to be transferred to another academy.
"Probably not." Aestrea denied.
Derek only sighed.
Then, James spoke out tiredly.
"What is this semester, man? We've got a kitsune, the royal princess, and a hero party? I feel like we're about to enter a war, not midterms."
Aestrea's gaze lingered on the crest of the royal family.
That crest... soon enough, would be burned into the ground.
"...Right?" Derek looked at his twin brother.
"There were rumours that the Elven Kingdom was about to attack our Empire, but then—BAM! We got new students in the academy, and they are elves. Interesting, much?"
"I also thought about that." James nodded.
"They must be some kind of spies sent by the Elven Kingdom."
The twin brother nodded in unison.
Aestrea wanted to laugh at their words, but it strangely made sense.
But if that was indeed the cause, why Silverleaf?
His glowing crimson eyes flashed slightly.
'Was it because of me?'
He suddenly thought about it.
After all, in public, he clearly had a bad relationship with the Emperor, and because of that, they probably wanted to approach him.
But still, he wasn't entirely convinced by that.
When he met Eira, she didn't seem to have the goal of taking him to their side.
Either way, he had his own plans.
"...By the way, do any of you know where I can find a high-grade gunsmith?" Aestrea suddenly asked.
Both twins paused, blinking at him like he'd just asked where to buy dragon teeth.
"You? Looking for a gunsmith?" James finally said, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Since when do you need guns, Mr. Ice Lotus Death Beam?"
"Planning to freeze the bullets mid-air?" Derek joked.
Aestrea didn't respond immediately.
He just kept walking, stuffing his hands in his pockets, eyes straight ahead.
"...Maybe."
Aestrea laughed, but he quickly changed his tone into a strangely serious one.
"I need someone with skills. Top-tier enchantment work. Preferably someone who doesn't ask questions."
James exchanged a glance with Derek.
"Well, there's that dwarf guy near the south district," Derek offered.
"The shop's called Iron Forge. Grumpy old bastard. But if you've got the coin, he can probably enchant a fork to kill a dragon."
"He enchanted our kettle once," James added.
"Boils water in 0.3 seconds. Exploded twice, though."
"You still use it?"
"Nope. It developed sentience and refuses to cooperate unless you sing to it first."
Aestrea sighed.
"Remind me never to trust you two with magical appliances."
"Rude," Derek gasped.
"You wound me, Future Tyrant President."
They laughed again, the mood lightening as they passed by a line of glowing crystal lanterns floating gently overhead.
But Aestrea's mind was elsewhere.
Even though he probably could deal with many enemies while using Lumi, he still wanted to have a gun at his waist if something went wrong.
And he already had the perfect cataclysm to get an extraordinary gun.
After all, he didn't want to waste his S-level ranked Gun Mastery for nothing, and thinking about it, he also needed a sword.
"Gosh... I miss my morph-weapon. Should've asked Yara to send it over," he muttered, furrowing his eyebrows.
Unfortunately, he said that... a little bit too loud.
"Yara?" Derek perked up immediately, cocking his head like a hound sniffing gossip.
"Who's Yara?"
Before Aestrea could even lift a finger, James lit up like a firework.
"Isn't it obvious?" he gasped, throwing his hands up with mock shock.
"It's our senior sister-in-law, obviously!"
"Huh?!"
Derek whipped around and slammed his hand into Derek's back.
"No, no, no! Our senior sister-in-law is obviously Christina! That Yara should be one of the junior sister-in-laws!" he barked.
"Christina?!" James rolled his eyes.
"Please. You think Aestrea's the type to go for the Saintess? She prays more than she breathes!"
"And Yara sounds way too hot. She's gotta be a mysterious, weapon-smuggling girlfriend type."
"You just made that up."
"So what? It sounds cool!"
Aestrea rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led him to dine with these two.
Besides, how did James come to the conclusion that she was a weapon-smuggling girlfriend type?
Aestrea somehow wanted to understand how his mind worked, but he quickly attributed his thoughts to his mention of the morph-weapon.
"She's neither," he muttered finally, lying through his teeth.
"Just someone I knew from before."
The twins leaned in together, like hounds sniffing blood.
"So... no romantic tension?"
"Do I look like I have time for that?"
'I do, actually...'
"No, but you smell like someone who needs it," James fired back.
Aestrea gave him a flat look.
Aestrea said nothing more as the two brothers spiraled into another ridiculous debate—this time ranking Aestrea's "potential wives" based on probability and aesthetic.
"Yara's got mystery points, but Christina's got that holy girl-next-door thing."
"Yeah, but what about Mia or Maria? They are still top-tier!"
"Don't forget Selene. She's a kitsune! And scary. But she's still a kitsune!"
Aestrea tuned them out.
Stars shimmered faintly above the academy skyline as they passed the glowing courtyard lamps and winding walkways.
It didn't take them long to reach the dormitories, the students moved in and out, some chatting in their sleepwear, others preparing for tomorrow's morning drills.
Aestrea gave the twins a lazy wave as he split off, heading for his old room.
"I'll grab some uniforms and go back to the hotel," he muttered to himself, climbing the spiral stairwell.
His dorm door was still the same as he left it. Plain. Untouched.
Key in.
Click.
He stepped inside.
It smelled faintly of dust, linen, and faint ozone... huh. ƒrēenovelkiss.com
His eyes narrowed.
The room was untouched, and yet—
There was something abnormal about it.
He closed the door softly behind him, his boots quiet on the wooden floorboards as his crimson eyes swept the space.
Everything looked... normal.
His bed.
His books.
His closet.
But his instincts screamed.
『 Scan 』
The air shimmered.
His vision shifted—lines, glyphs, and markings blooming into clarity like ink spilled on paper.
There.
Right near the center of the room—partially concealed beneath the rug.
A triangular magic circle, thin and precise, with runes etched so faintly they were nearly invisible to the naked eye.
"Runes... huh? Just when I was starting to think about studying them..."
His lips curled slightly.
"...Amateur."
He kneeled carefully, pulling the rug back to expose the full diagram.
Its craftsmanship was refined... but not perfect.
And not lethal, either.
This wasn't an assassination attempt.
It was a marking spell.
An embedded sensor linked to an external watcher.
Whoever placed this wanted to track him.
Or eavesdrop.
Maybe both.
"Bold of them to touch my room," he whispered to himself.
He tapped a finger over one of the outer rings.
Boom.
A pulse of ice magic surged through his fingertip—freezing the outer circuit, disrupting the internal link.
The triangle flickered—then cracked.
Dead.
Aestrea exhaled slowly.
Someone was watching him.
He stood up, drawing the curtains shut as his eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
Then, he slowly opened the palm of his closed hand, and a tiny green energy glowed, spinning around the palm of his hand.
"Is this the... Plant Element...?" Aestrea raised an eyebrow.
There was only one person whom Aestrea knew had the plant attribute.
And they hadn't even met yet.
"Well..."
Aestrea shrugged, heading out of his room, going back to the hotel where Alaine and the others were awaiting him.
"I'll meet her sooner or later."