Transmigrated Young Master's Yandere Harem

Chapter 93: Small Talk About Academy

Transmigrated Young Master's Yandere Harem

Chapter 93: Small Talk About Academy

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Chapter 93: Small Talk About Academy

Azael currently sat with Liana and Christina.

They were in same room where everyone was gone now.

Arista and Licas left to training ground for having a spar.

While Sabrina took her children to play outside.

"So what do you want to know about the academy, Liana?" Christina asked, settling comfortably into her seat. Her movements were natural and unhurried, the kind of easy elegance that came from growing up in a palace without ever thinking about it.

Azael noted, not for the first time, that she was genuinely beautiful.

Though her mother had rather thoroughly claimed that particular category of his attention for the foreseeable future.

"I want to know what to keep in mind before entering," Liana said, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "What to do, what not to do, what to avoid. I know some of it already, but hearing it from someone with actual experience is different."

Christina nodded.

"Alright. First thing Eternum Academy takes both nobles and commoners. Nobles enter directly. Commoners have to pass the entrance exam first."

’At least I don’t have to worry about that,’ Azael thought to himself, with quiet relief.

"Inside the academy, that distinction stops mattering," Christina continued. "Once you’re through the gates, everyone is treated equally. No exceptions. If a noble starts trouble with a commoner or anyone else and a complaint gets filed, the academy staff will investigate. Thoroughly." She paused for emphasis.

"And they will punish whoever is at fault. It doesn’t matter if you’re a noble. It doesn’t matter if you’re from a royal family."

Liana’s brows lifted slightly. "That’s strict."

"Very. And it’s enforced consistently, so don’t test it." Christina picked up her cup. "Beyond that — rankings matter. A lot. Work hard, train consistently, and aim for the top. The higher your rank, the better the privileges."

Azael looked up from his tea. "What kind of privileges?"

"The top ten ranked students get better dormitory rooms. Large ones. Comfortable." Christina glanced between them. "Your information has already been submitted to the academy, so they’ll place you in the initial rankings based on core level. That said commoners who passed the entrance exam often rank highly early on because the exam filters for talent. Don’t underestimate them based on background. If you are confident for being top rank then you can apply for entrance exam and prove it."

"That’s actually a fair system," Azael said.

"It works. The academy has been running it for a long time." Christina set her cup down. "Other things to keep in mind attend your assessments without fail. Missing them without a valid reason gets flagged. And the library has restricted floors. Don’t attempt them until you have the access level for it. Students try every year. Every year it goes badly for them."

Liana was listening carefully, occasionally asking questions about the dormitory assignment process, about how core levels were measured on entry, about whether transfer between academic tracks was possible mid-year.

Azael joined in from time to time. Mostly he listened, but when something caught his attention he asked directly. Christina answered everything without making either of them feel like they were asking obvious questions, which he appreciated.

The conversation moved at an easy pace. One topic led naturally to the next course structures, training schedules, the social dynamics between noble and commoner students, the faculty members worth paying attention to and the ones best handled with careful neutrality.

More than an hour passed without anyone noticing particularly.

The tea had long since gone cold.

Then the door opened.

Arista stepped in, her red hair pulled back into a high ponytail, her earlier formal appearance replaced with something more relaxed, the natural ease of someone who had just finished doing something physical and felt better for it. Her eyes found Azael immediately.

"Hey." She tilted her head toward the corridor.

"If you’re bored, come on. I’ll show you around the palace."

Azael set down his cup and stood.

He turned to Liana and Christina with an easy nod.

"I’ll leave you to it. Thank you for the information, Lady Christina, genuinely useful."

Christina waved a hand. "Don’t get lost. The east wing is confusing the first time. Also call me Christina. No need for formalities with me."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

He followed Arista out.

---

The corridor outside was long and quiet, the afternoon light coming through the high windows in long, warm angles across the floor.

They walked side by side, Arista setting a comfortable pace.

"So," Azael said. "You and Lucas. How did it go?"

Arista’s expression shifted immediately into something bright and satisfied.

"Three rounds," she said. "He won one. I won two." She lifted her chin slightly. "I am the winner."

Azael laughed.

"Of course you are. Honestly I don’t know what he was thinking, agreeing to it. He didn’t stand much of a chance."

Arista turned to him with a wide grin and then her arm swung out and hooked around his neck, pulling him sideways in a grip that was affectionate in intent and remarkably strong.

"Look at you," she said, laughing. "Trying to make me feel good. You and that smooth mouth of yours."

"I meant every word," he said, slightly strangled.

"Sure you did. But Lucas is strong for sure. He defeated me one time."

"Still you won."

She released him and kept walking, still grinning, leading him through a turn in the corridor and then down a wider passage that opened gradually toward the back of the palace.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"You’ll see."

He saw.

The doors at the end of the passage opened onto the palace gardens, and Azael stopped for a moment without meaning to.

It was large. Genuinely, surprisingly large. The space that didn’t feel possible from the outside of a building. Wide stone pathways curved through manicured grass in long, sweeping lines, bordered on both sides by sculpted hedges trimmed into clean geometric shapes.

Flower beds ran along the inner walls in broad bands of color, carefully arranged and well-tended. Further out, the paths widened into open stretches of lawn where old trees stood at small intervals, their branches spread wide, casting soft irregular shadows across the ground.

A fountain stood near the center, its basin broad and still, the sound of moving water carrying faintly across the space.

"Big, isn’t it?" Arista said, watching his face.

"Its really big...I mean very. Even biggee than our," Azael agreed.

She smiled and started walking again, leading him along one of the wider paths toward a gazebo set slightly apart from the main garden.

A graceful, open structure with a curved roof and white stone columns, positioned where it caught both shade and light in equal measure.

Beneath it, seated with the relaxed composure of someone entirely at peace with the afternoon, was Sabrina. She had a cup of something warm in her hands and was watching the open lawn in front of her where Evan and Mira were deeply engaged in whatever game they had invented.

She looked up as they approached and smiled warmly.

"Arista. And Azael, did you enjoy the tour?"

"Still in progress," Arista said, dropping onto the bench beside her with easy familiarity.

"I’m starting with the garden."

"Smart. It’s the best part." Sabrina glanced at Azael as he settled across from them. "Are you enjoying your visit so far?"

"More than I expected to," he said honestly.

Sabrina laughed softly.

Out on the lawn, Evan spotted them first.

He abandoned whatever he had been doing immediately and at full speed small legs covering the distance with the total commitment of a child who has decided that running is the only acceptable mode of transportation.

Mira followed a few steps behind, slightly more measured but no less determined, her dark eyes already fixed on the new arrivals with focused interest.

Evan arrived first, slightly out of breath, and planted himself directly in front of Azael with his hands on his knees.

He looked up.

"Are you really Azael?" he demanded.

"I am," Azael said.

"The one with the phoenix fire? Just like big sister Arista?"

"Also me, yes."

Evan stared at him for a long moment with the unfiltered, comprehensive scrutiny that small children apply to things they find genuinely important.

Then, "Can I see it?"

Mira appeared at his shoulder, slightly quieter, but her eyes were asking the exact same question.

Azael looked at the two of them.

Then he glanced at Arista, who gave him a small shrug that meant entirely your call.

He looked back at Evan and Mira.

A slow smile settled onto his face.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Watch carefully. I will show you the great flame of pheonix!"

He extended his palm forward and channel his mana from core to his palm.

The fire responded.

Mana particles came out of his palm slowly started to turned into beautiful golden-red color fire.

It was not like those normal flames. The golden hue in it was shining. That gave it otherworldly appearance.

Both Mira and Evan watched it with wide eyes.

As if they were seeing something out of the world.

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