Chapter 8: The Price is Everything. You must take classes appropriate to your level. (8/302)

Chapter 8: You must take classes appropriate to your level.

2023.04.29.

The teacher of Berlen 3, Sir Voltaire, was a former diplomat, and his main subject at the academy was international politics.

When he saw the two new students in his classroom, he raised an eyebrow but did not acknowledge them.

Neris didn't care about Sir Voltaire's attitude at all. However, Megara tried to catch his attention a few times with dazzling smiles, but her expression gradually changed as she was shocked by his indifference.

Finally, when Sir Voltaire distributed a rather long Berlen text to the students, Megara began to converse with Mahladi Ennim with a cold face.

"Eske ma tendros suain? (Does he hate you?)"

Ren glanced at the text, then propped his chin on his desk, looking bored, and asked Neris. He spoke in the sacred language, which is used by priests, not the Berlen being taught in class.

'Is he?'

Neris replied in the same sacred language.

"Yo nesabe parent. (I don't know.)"

Ren's eyes narrowed into half-moons. He found it amusing that a child could answer in the sacred language.

He had learned the sacred language from a young age due to his family background, but for most nobles, knowing a few phrases in the sacred language was enough to be considered cultured.

From the first time he met her, Neris was different from other new students.

She knew things that even upperclassmen might not know, but she didn't show off her intelligence, which was unusual for someone her age. It wasn't just pretending to be smart; she genuinely was.

"Porke tendros suain? (Why does he hate you?)"

Neris found it ridiculous to even ask.

"Yo boz habeo dit, 'yo nesabe parent.' (I already said I don't know.)"

"Hmm."

Ren didn't press further when Neris shrugged him off, but he continued to stare at her. Neris ignored him and read the text.

After a while, Sir Voltaire gave the students a long instruction in Berlen. After observing how well they followed it, he suddenly asked in the Imperial language.

"Is there anyone who can tell me what the first instruction I gave meant?"

A few upperclassmen raised their hands. Sir Voltaire pointed to one of the boys.

"Arthur Pendleton."

Neris knew Arthur Pendleton well. His father was the Foreign Minister, and his mother was a Berlen noble, so he was likely to excel in Berlen diplomacy after graduation.

Arthur answered with a sharp tone.

"You asked us to summarize the given text briefly."

Sir Voltaire didn't indicate whether Arthur's answer was right or wrong, but he turned his strict gaze to the class.

"Let's hear each of your answers. Who wants to go first?"

More upperclassmen raised their hands this time. Sir Voltaire chose the hand at the lowest position.

"Megara Licanoros."

Megara seemed to regain some confidence when she realized Sir Voltaire knew her name. She put on a humble voice and said,

"Livingston Kinzei tried to improve the windmills in Gallia but failed due to budget constraints and was killed by the local residents."

Sir Voltaire's stiff face showed no change. He turned to Neris and asked in Berlen,

"E ton, du ahisare pensla? (Do you think the same?)"

Most students thought Megara had answered perfectly and were not interested in how Neris would respond.

However, Ren's eyes sharpened, and Neris answered briefly in smooth Berlen.

"Ka dpendra. (Maybe.)"

It was not a good answer.

If she agreed, she should have accepted it cleanly; if she disagreed, she should have given a different answer. Most students were old enough not to show overt displeasure, but they clearly found Neris strange.

The thought that she was showing off and causing jealousy spread among more than half the students.

"Doken? (So, what's your answer?)"

Sir Voltaire pressed on without any reaction. Neris met his stern gaze and calmly said,

"Livingston, the ambassador sent to Gallia, tried to improve relations with the locals through popular policies, but the support from his home country was limited, and he was killed when the allocated budget ran out."

"Wrong!"

Mahladi Ennim blurted out, but some in the class nodded. Megara's eyes turned fierce.

Sir Voltaire tilted his chin slightly.

"Neris Trüd. What was the first instruction I gave?"

"You asked us to explain the story in the given text briefly."

"Is Arthur Pendleton's answer different from yours?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Sir Voltaire is a diplomat."

In the Imperial language, 'summarize' means to limit the story to the content of the text. However, 'explain' the story in Berlen means that logically inferred information can also be included. There is no distinction between these two expressions in Berlen.

Both answers would have the same meaning in a normal situation, but Neris focused on the vocabulary Sir Voltaire used.

The vocabulary Sir Voltaire used belonged to a category that needed to be carefully distinguished in diplomatic settings, so there must have been a specific reason for using it.

A diplomat wouldn't just analyze the information provided by the other party; they would naturally give an 'explanation' that included their own speculation and interpretation.

When a new student from a humble family pointed out a nuance that even the son of a diplomat missed, Sir Voltaire smiled for the first time since entering the classroom. It was a brief but clear smile of satisfaction.

"Why do you learn foreign languages?"

The students were surprised that Sir Voltaire was comparing answers publicly instead of correcting the wrong answer on the spot, so they hesitated to speak. When the class didn't progress, Arthur Pendleton cautiously answered,

"To converse with people from other countries, right?"

"Basically, yes, Arthur Pendleton. But you are nobles. If you want to converse with people from other countries, you can hire an interpreter. Or you can use the common language, Rund, to converse with nobles from any country on the continent. Why do you need to learn the language of another country?"

In the frozen silence of the classroom, Neris answered smoothly,

"To gain an advantage in diplomacy."

"Correct."

Sir Voltaire looked at Neris with interest. The students could tell he was pleased with her.

Even in retirement, he was still a well-known figure in the diplomatic world, so if Neris wanted to, she could start her career in that field more easily than others.

"You learn foreign languages to conduct diplomacy. Don't take any word lightly. Analyze the meaning of the information, not just its surface. A superficial understanding leads to diplomatic failure. Neris Trüd knows this, which is why she can attend the same class as you."

His final words changed the atmosphere in the classroom.

While both comments referred to being 'smart,' Megara's evaluation suggested that Neris was overstepping in front of the children.

However, Sir Voltaire's evaluation suggested that Neris could be helpful to her classmates.

He knew that showing favoritism to one student could create resentment among the others, so he stopped at a delicate point.

'Sure enough, he's still an excellent diplomat.'

Neris smiled inwardly.

When she was the Crown Princess, her main job was diplomacy. She had even studied under Sir Voltaire for a short period due to diplomatic disputes with Berlen.

That's why she had chosen his class again. She hadn't expected Megara to follow.

"But, sir."

Megara had already regained her composure and raised her hand. She asked in a feigned sweet voice,

"Isn't Neris's interpretation itself wrong?"

"That's true."

Mahladi Ennim quickly agreed and soon raised his voice to criticize Neris.

"She's a new student from a rural town, so it's understandable that she has some shortcomings. But she should take classes appropriate to her level. If she can't even interpret simple words correctly, isn't she wasting the time of the upperclassmen?"

"What?"

Ren sat up straight for the first time since entering the classroom. Mahladi flinched under his fierce gaze but soon mustered the courage to glare back.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Who didn't know the diplomatic term in Berlen just now?"

"I don't believe it. How could she know a diplomatic term? Even Arthur didn't know it. You must have taught her, Ren Phael."

"Why would I teach her?"

"How should I know? Maybe no one wants to be close to you, so she was just flattering you."

Ren's eyes flashed coldly. A charming yet dangerous smile, typical of when he was angry, appeared on his young face.

"That's what I should be saying."

"What?"

Mahladi was less skilled than Ren. His red face and sudden outburst were enough to make others feel uncomfortable.

Neris looked at Megara with an unreadable expression, and Sir Voltaire watched her actions with a sharp gaze.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Can't you understand what I'm saying? If you can't, that's fine."

"Hey, Ren Phael...!"

"Tus, arete. (Both of you, stop it.)"

Ren shrugged nonchalantly, and just as Mahladi was about to explode, Sir Voltaire intervened to calm the situation. Then he asked Neris,

"Kernha du pensla a diskur preven? (What do you think of the conversation just now?)"

"Ka neme deranje parent, sir. (It's none of my business, sir.)"

Neris's calm response made Mahladi look extremely frustrated, but Ren seemed unfazed.

To Ren, this was a matter between him and Mahladi. It seemed Mahladi had intended to target Ren from the beginning.

"Mahladi Ennim, Ren Phael. As punishment for forgetting it's class time, come see me during lunch. And Neris Trüd, explain why you interpreted it that way."

"Yes."

The students' gazes focused on Neris as she slowly walked to the front of the classroom.

She was used to such attention, so she showed no signs of the nervousness a new student might feel. In fact, she looked as if she was receiving well-deserved praise.

The large blackboard at the front of the classroom was magically maintained, allowing even a short person to write without difficulty using the teacher's pointer. Neris took the pointer from Sir Voltaire and wrote a few Berlen words on the board, then added their Imperial meanings next to them.

"Your handwriting is good."

Arthur Pendleton expressed his admiration in a louder voice than intended. When Mahladi Ennim's resentful gaze turned to him, he shrugged. What?

He had only said what he thought. To write such skilled and refined handwriting, one would need to dedicate years to practice. He himself was known for his good handwriting, but he wasn't at the level of this new student. Besides, writing on a magic blackboard was not an easy task for a beginner.

Megara bit her lip as she looked at one of the words Neris had written.

'Kanje: Ambassador.'

The word Megara had mispronounced as 'Kinzei' was read as 'Kanje' in Berlen and meant 'ambassador' in diplomatic terms. The Imperial name 'Kinzei' itself was derived from this word.

The word Megara had translated as 'windmill' meant 'a continuous flow within a certain range.' While this translation was not impossible, it was a complete misinterpretation in this context.