Chapter 31: Establishing an Image

Chapter 31: Establishing an Image

After lunch, Mars returned to his dormitory to rest.

Zazor went to the library, found a quiet corner, and lay down to nap. He spent the entire afternoon and evening immersed in books.

He ate dinner alone and walked back to his dormitory alone. It was as if everyone else had vanished; throughout the castle halls and the dining room, he was the only soul present—save for the elemental servants autonomously cleaning the floors and preparing food.

He did not feel particularly lonely, perhaps because he had grown accustomed to a solitary, homebound life in his previous world.

The next morning.

Returning to the hall and dining room, the scene was entirely different.

Freshmen in their standard uniforms hurried into the dining room, grabbing trays, piling them with slices of bread and dishes of jam, and sitting down wherever they could to eat.

Zazor watched their heavy, sleepy eyelids—they looked utterly exhausted, likely because the banquet performance the night before had been so spectacular that these students had stayed up late.

"Hi, Zazor."

Anjou, a dark-haired girl, placed her tray down opposite him. Though she couldn't paint while in the carriage, the faint scent of turpentine still clung to her.

"Good morning, Anjou."

Zazor smiled in response and activated his Detection spell to identify her mentor: "You were assigned to Oil-Based Alchemy under Professor Zhuolang, right?"

Anjou had a mouthful of blueberry jam bread. She covered her mouth with her hand, nodding while speaking indistinctly: "Mmhmm! Dim only mentioned it once yesterday when assigning mentors, and you already remembered? Your memory is amazing."

Zazor lowered his head to sip his soup, the corners of his mouth curling up again.

The incident with the Riche brothers had served as a reminder: not all mages were bound by the moral constraints of society like the city-based mages he had encountered before. There would always be those who relied on their abilities or other means to walk the gray areas, hovering on the edge of transgression.

He needed to prepare irrefutable explanations for every anomaly he displayed, using logical schemes so that those who discovered them would readily accept them.

Zazor summarized his situation. Currently, there were only two anomalies he would reveal: his extraordinary recovery rate and his superior memory, which he attributed to his "Knowledge Reserves."

The blame for his recovery ability had already been pinned on the old monster who had died nearly two years ago.

His superior memory, however, was an anomaly that needed to be masked for now.

Zazor’s plan was simple. He intended to subtly cultivate an image of himself as an avid reader with a sharp memory among those close to him, letting them broadcast this to others—even to their respective mentors.

In this way, he could confidently aim for high scores or even perfect marks in future exams using his "Knowledge Reserves."

Anjou swallowed her food along with a spoonful of corn chowder, never imagining that in those ten seconds, the person across from her had processed so much.

She tilted her head slightly, asking with confusion: "Which subject were you assigned to? I don't seem to recall."

"Toxicological Alchemy, under Professor Kulov," Zazor said, popping a slice of sausage into his mouth.

At that moment, Mars walked over with his tray and sat down next to Zazor: "Morning, you two. The first day of school has begun."

He picked up a burger with meat slices, paused halfway to his mouth as he felt two gazes land on him—especially the dark-haired girl's... Male instinct told him that staying any longer might be dangerous.

"Ahem."

Mars set the bread down and scanned the dining room: "Little Meborn seems to be running late. I'll go tell him to hurry up."

Before leaving, he winked at Zazor—easygoing, humorous, and without a shred of the airs of a senior student.

"Did you go to the banquet last night?" Anjou took another large bite of bread.

"No. I was reading in the library."

Zazor slowed his eating pace, using his spoon to sip his soup rather than gulping it down. He looked around; seeing no sign of the Riche brothers, he lowered his voice: "Mars told me something that you girls need to be aware of."

Anjou leaned forward, tilting her head to listen.

Zazor whispered about the possibility of people spying on the girls, adding at the end: "Be careful."

"Mmhmm!"

Anjou nodded with a smile: "Dim specifically noted this in our *Castle Rules* for girls and has increased patrols around the dormitories."

"That's good. It seems Dim, the castle steward, is quite conscientious." Zazor mentally moved his estimation of Dim up a notch.

***

Anjou swallowed the last of her sandwich. "What is your second class this morning?"

Zazor handed her his schedule.

"Oh~ we only have different classes during the second session on Saturday mornings." Anjou’s cheeks flushed slightly as she smiled.

Zazor took in her expression, feeling a strange sense of sentimentality.

...

At 6:50 AM, the Alchemy Linguistics class was about to begin.

Zazor and Anjou sat in the dining room for a while longer. When they arrived at the semi-circular lecture hall, only the seats in the back were empty. The two sat down directly facing the podium.

The academy set the Alchemy Linguistics course for six months. From Monday to Saturday, 7:00 AM to 9:00 AM, the total teaching time exceeded 300 hours.

An exam would be held after six months. Passing meant moving on to new alchemy branch courses. Failing meant one chance for a make-up exam. Failing that, one would have to retake the course for another six months before taking a third exam. If that failed... then one would have to restart with the following year's freshmen. The same applied to other courses.

Zazor spread out his *Alchemy Linguistics* textbook, flipping casually through pages filled with marks and underlines. Bringing this book—which had already been uploaded to his "Knowledge Reserves"—was purely for show.

What he was actually studying during class was a different book. However, it wasn't a character-based tome; such books were classified as extracurricular or entertainment in the academy, unsuitable for the classroom.

Following the curriculum, Zazor had chosen an ecological text: *Foundations of Herbalism: An Illustrated Guide to Magical Herbs*.

According to the "Exam Syllabus" in the appendix of his schedule, Herbalism was a major component of the general alchemy curriculum, with an exceptionally high difficulty, surpassing even Alchemy Linguistics. The primary focus of the exam centered on the *Illustrated Guide to Magical Herbs*.

Zazor planned to use his old method: force-memorizing the book.

Anjou, sitting beside him, reached over to flip through his *Alchemy Linguistics* book. Every page from start to finish was covered in notes, and even the blank back cover was filled with complex alchemical formulas.

She lowered her voice: "Don't tell me you've already self-studied the whole thing?"

"Yeah, I finished it during the month I stayed at the testing station."

Anjou’s mouth opened slightly, and she said with admiration: "Your memory is truly... the best I have ever encountered."

Zazor smiled modestly, glancing at her reading progress. She was only on page 700, having just reached the chapter on tenses; she must have started reading after boarding the carriage. The other 100+ freshmen in the room were basically at the same stage. They had learned the importance of this course from the seniors who received them and had naturally started self-studying on the carriages.

"Oh, if only I hadn't spent the time painting for old customers." Anjou tapped the book with her pen, her voice full of regret.

Zazor glanced at her hair and chuckled: "You should ask the senior girls for hair-care secrets. The latter part of this book is much more complex than the beginning."

As the two chatted and bickered, the rest of the classroom was much the same, with students talking and playing.

The incessant noise ceased the moment a figure walked into the classroom. Almost simultaneously, the freshmen collectively fixed their eyes on Beatrice, the Dean of the academy.

Her curvaceous figure could not be hidden even by the long robes and white shawl, which only added to the unique charm of a mature woman. The graceful curves outlined by her robes as she walked were irresistible to many of the boys.

Zazor studied her light orange hair and beautiful face, his expression shifting from appreciation to something strange.

Mars once said that the Starry Night Kingdom was founded two hundred years ago. The Starry Night Academy had existed since then, and Beatrice had always been the Dean. In other words, this delicate, beautiful young woman was at least 220 years old, several generations older than the students present.

Zazor tucked away the strange look in his eyes and silently activated his Detection spell.

[Character Name] Beatrice
[Identity] Dean of Starry Night Academy, Unknown Tier Mage
[HP] ??? (Healthy)
[Resistance] ???
[Strength] 5
[Agility] 7
[Stamina] 9
[Vitality] 8
[Perception] 15
[Willpower] 12
[Spirit] ???
[Charm] 15
[Character Traits]
[Meditation (Unknown Level)]
(Insufficient Perception and Knowledge Reserves to obtain more information)

Ha, good heavens, 15 points in Charm.

Zazor scanned his classmates with a mischievous smile. Whether the information from the Detection spell was her true data remained to be seen. Perhaps, like Thales Mesor, she possessed unknown skills that hid her true strength.

But 15 points in Charm was definitely highly attractive. Even Anjou was staring at Beatrice's figure. The boys, needless to say, were captivated. She truly deserved the description of being attractive to all genders.

Of course, for the women, Beatrice's appeal lay in her self-care and maintenance. How to maintain beauty and a figure was always a focus for women.

Beatrice walked to the front of the podium, leaning lazily against the edge of the table, arms crossed beneath her chest, and said with a relaxed, elegant smile: "I am Beatrice, Dean of Starry Night Academy, and your Alchemy Linguistics teacher. Now, let me check your self-study progress."

With a soft, melodic sound, the *Alchemy Linguistics* books in front of the students began to flip on their own. The sound of rustling pages was dense and brief. Two seconds later, more than a hundred tomes in the classroom closed neatly.

"Some students have made good progress. You may study other texts on your own, as long as you do not disturb your classmates. The progress of the rest is about the same, so let's move directly to learning tenses."

Beatrice snapped her fingers. The wall behind the podium sank rapidly, revealing a grand alchemy lab fully equipped with instruments and display cabinets.

"I will use the simplest alchemical potion to demonstrate the role of tenses."

Several bundles of herbs and potion bottles floated from the display cabinets, suspending themselves in the air behind the podium.

"Satiety Gel—the first functional potion you must learn during your Potion Alchemy course. These are its raw materials."

Behind Beatrice, a shimmering silver sand condensed out of thin air, forming lines of text that displayed the function of the Satiety Potion, the names of the raw materials, and the required quantities.

Zazor had seen Satiety Gel at the potion shop. The *Alchemy Linguistics* book also used this potion to illustrate tense grammar.

It was a potion with few steps and raw materials, but the ingredients were difficult to obtain. A standard dose of Satiety Gel provided seven days of fullness. Simply put, eating one piece of Satiety Gel meant you didn't have to eat for seven days, though you still needed to drink water. It provided several times the food experience reward of ordinary cooking and could provide constant experience over those seven days.

The principle behind Satiety Gel was not complex. It slowly released nutrients into the body, keeping the stomach in a state of constant digestion. Extracting nutrients was a simple alchemical operation; an entry-level alchemist with the right tools could complete it independently.

However, the greatest challenge in developing the potion was keeping the nutrients alive in stomach acid without causing discomfort or being expelled prematurely. This required the use of Cage-Feeder digestive mucosa.

The Cage-Feeder attracted insects, flies, and even small birds with its bright petals and strange scent. The moment prey touched the flower, it would open its mouth—camouflaged as the stamen—swallow the target whole, and transport it to the digestive cavity buried in the soil. The prey would struggle in the cavity but eventually succumb to suffocation and slow decomposition.

Alchemists planted Cage-Feeders and harvested them every five years, processing their mucosa into a gelatinous coating for the nutrients, solving the problem perfectly.

The extraction of nutrients and the creation of the gelatinous coating had to be done simultaneously. Because the material of the alchemical tools and the temperature and humidity of the environment affected the characteristics of the products at different stages, one could not simply use a timeline to guide alchemists on when to do what.

That was where the tense grammar of Alchemy Linguistics came in.

Beatrice lectured while operating the alchemical instruments behind her, bringing the lifeless text to life. The content was similar to the book.

Zazor listened for a while, then lowered his head to read *Illustrated Guide to Magical Herbs*, no longer watching the floating potion bottles and the silver sand weaving out text.

After the first class, he signaled to Anjou and moved alone to a seat in the back row to avoid distracting others with his page-turning and note-taking.

Since Beatrice was powerful enough to check everyone’s books simultaneously, any further pretense was futile. It was better to wear the hat of a "top student" and fully immerse himself in self-study.

Rote memorization, an ancient skill passed down from his previous life, formally began to shine in the Starry Night Academy.

(End of chapter)