Namgung Se-ga, the warrior, was reincarnated in Romance

Shayden, Benjamin, Jenny, Marianne, Damian, Ivan, and I had been arguing for a long time.

Since we had been the closest group of friends for several semesters, we wanted to take at least one class together, but we couldn’t find a good one.

What I had hoped to learn in the intermediate alchemy class was a way to treat injuries. However, last semester, we only made beauty creams and oils for hair, so I no longer had any desire to continue studying alchemy.

This friend couldn’t take this class, that friend’s major class overlapped with another one, and as we eliminated each option, there wasn’t much left to choose from.

Jenny, who had been insisting on a particular syllabus, handed it to me again.

“How about this? Basics of social dance for effective debut in high society. Really, isn’t this okay, Mikael?”

“My parents even gave up on teaching me how to dance.”

“Come on… But now Mikael, you’ll be fifteen next year.”

Damian, who had been holding back laughter, handed me another syllabus.

“If dancing is not your thing, how about this? Continental culinary tour. A class where you learn and experience the unique dietary habits from across the continent.”

“That class… isn’t that the one where you eat bugs? No, thank you.”

“Ah, bugs can be delicious. I trust Ivan.”

“I don’t trust myself, no way.”

Shayden brought up an accounting class and earned Marianne’s wrath, while Marianne asked if no one was interested in elemental studies, only to be mocked by the others.

In the midst of all this, Ivan pulled up a syllabus from the bottom of the pile.

“How about this one? Professor Blanc Cooper’s Growth and Reflection.”

“What kind of class is this? Even the name sounds strange.”

Marianne already showed a disgusted attitude. Ivan looked at me directly and handed me the syllabus, so I took it.

“Well, it suddenly reminded me of Michael.”

“Michael?”

“Yes, he likes theology, so I thought Mikael might like it too… It’s a course that helps inner growth through theological reflection.”

“What is this?”

“Wow… Where did you even find a class like this?”

“Theology-related courses are good for getting grades. Professors prioritize attitude over grades, and attendance is the most important.”

Damian, who had been studying the syllabus for a while, joined in.

“Plus, this class has no exam. Grades are based on attendance and assignments.”

“Let’s go with this one.”

“I agree.”

“I’m on board too.”

It wasn’t because there were no exams that I agreed, but because I hoped the theological discussions I could have with Michael would be more enriching. It was definitely not because of the lack of exams.

In the mornings, I still took Maelro Sanson’s class. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I attended intermediate swordsmanship, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays, advanced swordsmanship, just like last semester.

Tuesday afternoon’s first class was basic territory management, which I took with Shayden and Damian. The second class on Tuesday afternoon, however, was the Growth and Reflection class, which I took with the other kids.

On Wednesday afternoons, I had the Empire Genealogy class, and on Thursdays, I had one-on-one lessons with Douglas. Fridays were filled with magical creatures with Edwin, and soon, my schedule was packed.

Damian looked at my timetable with a puzzled expression.

“Hmm, so this time, you’re only adding the Empire Genealogy class on Wednesday afternoon?”

“Mikael would never be satisfied with just seven classes.”

“Oh, that day… Professor Wilton Roberts only comes to the academy on Wednesdays and Thursdays, so I arranged for a private session with him on Wednesday evening. I was worried I might be late.”

“When? At this time? Hmm… Isn’t this a bit of special treatment?”

“No, after seven o’clock. The professor agreed to make time after his regular class ends.”

“After his regular class? Then it won’t count for credit.”

“Correct.”

Marianne gaped at my schedule, then at me, before letting out a small laugh.

“Well, it’s not exactly preferential treatment, but it’s certainly unusual… Wow, Mikael Ernhardt, the anomaly of my life.”

“Hmm.”

“…I’m really curious. What are you going to learn one-on-one?”

“Stealth and movement techniques, a little. Professor Wilton Roberts finds it fascinating, the way you move secretly…”

Shayden and Benjamin also clicked their tongues in surprise. I had secretly wondered if any of my fellow swordsmanship students might want to join, but they showed no such interest, which left me a bit disappointed.

“Really…? No interest? Why?”

“Well… since I’m aiming to be a knight… I’m more used to stepping forward than hiding in the shadows.”

“Can you even call it a class if it doesn’t count for credit? I wouldn’t, personally…”

After helping the others finalize their schedules, I spent the weekend shopping for everything needed for the semester. It was nice to spend time with close friends, relying on each other and chatting.

I briefly met with Ruber to inform him about the schedule again.

He agreed to take the Monsters and Philosophy class on Mondays, and told me he’d also be attending the intermediate swordsmanship class this semester. I thought I’d see him every day, and though it felt a little awkward, I didn’t mind.

When I asked if he wasn’t too busy, he assured me he was fine, so I decided to take his word for it.

August. The new semester had begun.

It was summer. As in the previous semester, I started the first class of the week with intermediate swordsmanship. Shayden, Benjamin, Bill, and Ruber were all in the same class.

Maelro Sanson was a well-known professor. Even though the class didn’t count for credit, many students still took both the first and second semesters of his classes consecutively.

Thanks to this, the students who had solidified the basics of the Imperial sword style last semester didn’t seem to have forgotten anything, as they began the first class with a test.

Following Sanson’s commands, we performed the Imperial sword style from the first form to the last in sequence. There were no problems. All the sword forms were connected, so it was strange that I, who had reached an extraordinary level in my past life, was awkward with a new form I had spent half a year practicing.

“Well done, Mikael. Every movement was precise.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Despite myself, the compliment sounded sweeter because Maelro Sanson was a martial artist from Hwangyeong. I couldn’t hide my joy.

Shayden was reprimanded for losing power when he retracted his sword, and Bill, conversely, was told he applied too much power to every stance. Benjamin received a similar compliment to mine.

Then Ruber received a lukewarm look from Maelro Sanson.

“Hmm… You’re taking intermediate swordsmanship again this semester?”

“…Yes, Professor.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s a problem… Alright. Work hard.”

It was clear that Ruber had already taken intermediate swordsmanship before, not just last semester, but probably earlier as well.

Considering Ruber’s mastery of the Imperial sword style, it was obvious he had learned from Maelro Sanson. I could tell Ruber was avoiding my gaze on purpose.

After adjusting his posture a few times, Bill received a favorable comment and swaggered over to me, acting cute.

“I think it’s thanks to you, bro. Especially that move in the 12th form.”

“Oh, that one.”

Bill, who had demonstrated the motion of pulling in an outstretched arm, quickly lowered his head again, expecting praise. Seeing his round head drenched in sweat, instead of praising him or patting him gently, I pinched his cheek and shook it, then pushed him away.

“Stop whining so much,” I muttered, but couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was being. It wasn’t until then that I noticed Ruber was standing quietly and watching us.

“….”

“You did well too, senior.”

For some reason, I felt a bit awkward at his words. I beckoned him closer, and Ruber swiftly approached, and I gave his shoulder a couple of gentle pats.

There was something unfamiliar about the moment, so I looked at him carefully.

“…Why are you staring like that?”

“No, it’s just that you seem taller.”

I had grown a bit during the break, and it seemed Ruber had grown quite a bit too.

It was always the case with kids around this time, growing like bamboo shoots after a rain. I felt a warm, happy feeling as I compared the height between my shoulder and Ruber’s.

Ruber carefully asked in a soft voice, “…Do you prefer being shorter?”

“Not at all. You’re already very manly as you are…”

I almost said, “handsome,” but my throat suddenly tightened and I couldn’t speak. I was at a loss for words.

It was just like when he asked me if I preferred longer hair. I had only just now noticed that Ruber had been growing his hair out and tying it into a ponytail.

But unlike before, he wasn’t blushing shyly.

I quietly gazed at Ruber’s white, composed face. When he asked what was wrong, I smiled and told him it was nothing.

Had I already closed my heart off? No, that wasn’t it. Why was I even thinking about this? I quickly steeled myself.

After everyone went to freshen up, we agreed to meet again and I returned to my room.

I had intentionally scheduled Monday afternoon’s class with Ruber, just the two of us, and for some reason, I felt a little uneasy. I resolved not to dwell on it.

Professor Steven McCliff, who taught Monsters and Philosophy, had given out books just like last semester, with a work-study student helping to distribute them.

The new book had a leather cover that was a deeper shade of blue than the previous one. Steven told us that the textbook was made from ogre leather, which startled the students.

Watching the kids scramble to grab their books, surprised and flustered, Steven smiled gently.

“Looks like it’s a pricey book, since it flies so far. Go ahead, find your books and pick them up. It would be a hassle to buy new ones. Are you all sure you won’t be having a test this semester?”

“Professor!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s all start by writing our names on the first page. Calm down, everyone…”

Was he doing this on purpose to enjoy the children’s screams? It seemed like such a mischievous act, completely at odds with his face. I looked at him again with a new perspective.