Chapter 45
[Candidacy Application]
Eddie stared at the paper on his desk, lost in thought.
All it needed was his na to be complete.
But he lingered, rolling the pen, staring at the blank space.
‘I didn’t expect him to try to push out so soon.’
Honestly, he’d been blindsided.
Marcel seed to harbor more resentnt toward him than expected.
Eddie had known Marcel felt inferior but had used his role as an attendant to provoke him.
To make Marcel recognize the family’s abnormalities and reflect.
To test if he had the will to face corruption and lead the family rightly.
‘Maybe I pushed too hard.’
Eddie chuckled, rolling the pen again.
He’d overlooked that Marcel was only 14.
He’d been treating Marcel solely as the next head of Kirhausen.
Partly due to Marcel’s mature deanor, but mostly because he saw him as a tool to shake Kirhausen.
But no matter how high his position, he was still a child.
When truly upset, immaturity surfaced.
Eddie readily admitted his mistake.
The human heart was a difficult realm, even for a great mage.
‘Still, he played a clever move. It’s not simple.’
Regardless, the challenge was real.
Marcel had placed Eddie in an impossible dilemma.
The family sent Eddie to the academy as an attendant.
But at the academy, he had to follow Marcel’s orders.
And Marcel’s argunt—that deliberately losing wasn’t true assistance—was hard to refute.
If that were the only issue, it wouldn’t be a big problem.
Even if he displeased the family by following Marcel, Furas wouldn’t expel him.
Furas valued Eddie as a superior mana source, not just a traditional attendant.
‘The real problem is the loss of ti.’
Marcel’s decision had robbed Eddie of significant free ti.
‘Campaign speeches, policy drafting, professor etings…’
Candidates’ benefits ca with heavy ti demands.
He didn’t plan to campaign earnestly, but even minimal effort would consu ti.
“Hmm…”
Eddie closed his eyes, pondering.
Soon, with a wry chuckle, he muttered to himself.
“Getting younger has made my thinking younger too.”
Since when did Edmund von Kirhausen rely fret over problems?
Worrying never solved anything.
He’d always told his disciples: action solves problems.
Eddie promptly wrote ‘Eddie Sumrson’ on the application.
‘Since it’s inevitable, I’ll make the most of the opportunity Marcel’s given .’
He left to submit the application.
Once decided, action had to be swift.
That’s how the worst could beco the best.
***
Over three days, 47 students registered for the class president election.
An absurd number for a 100-student freshman class.
But no one was surprised.
Everyone knew fewer than a tenth would remain candidates until election day.
Most would withdraw, supporting Marcel Kirhausen or Alexein Dickens.
This was a long-standing bad habit among the academy’s upper-class students.
Withdrawing to support a candidate publicly transferred their votes, a more effective form of flattery than anonymous voting.
As expected, candidates began openly pledging support to their preferred candidate on the first day of campaigning.
“Alexein, got any campaign promises? My tutor made a list you could reference.”
“Hey, the Dickens family’s probably got huge promises and strategies ready. Alexein, if you’re short on ti for a speech, let know. I’ve got a draft I won’t use.”
Alexein smiled, satisfied, watching his growing entourage.
At the first-year student council room to receive campaign regulations, over a dozen students had already pledged support to him.
anwhile, what about Marcel, the other top candidate?
“…”
Sitting quietly at the front, reading a book like a model student, with only his attendant.
‘Marcel Kirhausen. Let’s see how long you can stay so aloof.’
Alexein smirked at Marcel’s back, leaning back arrogantly.
He had solid grounds for confidence this ti.
Unlike exams or assignnts, the class president election hinged on peer bonds and leadership.
For two heirs of prestigious families, the outco would depend on the relationships they’d built.
‘No matter how great Kirhausen is, a guy who hasn’t made a single friend in over a month is at a huge disadvantage.’
Model students earned respect, not camaraderie.
Alexein felt a surge of superiority.
Eddie, on Marcel’s behalf, scoffed at Alexein.
‘Marcel’s definitely sharper in a battle of wits.’
Marcel had arrived 30 minutes early to the council room.
In that ti, over 20 students had approached him to announce their candidacy.
‘He must think competing directly with Alexein’s faction is a waste of energy.’
Marcel gave his supporters a chance to pledge loyalty without Alexein’s scrutiny.
A brilliant strategy that avoided commotion and fooled Alexein.
‘It suits his personality perfectly.’
Many of the students around Alexein had already visited Marcel.
Unaware, Alexein was already certain of victory.
Creak-
The council room door opened, and soone entered.
Students, thinking it was a professor, scrambled to their seats.
But it was the final candidate.
“What? I thought it was the professor.”
“She’s running too?”
“Guess she’s banking on the commoner vote.”
Receiving 46 pairs of eyes, the newcor was Joy.
The only commoner candidate in the election.
“…”
Eddie glanced at Joy’s profile as she passed by.
She looked noticeably subdued compared to before.
The incident had clearly hit her hard.
‘But she’s running. Her despair’s within expected bounds, thankfully.’
Relieved, Eddie looked away.
The council room door opened, and a professor entered with assistants.
“Take your seats. We’ll distribute campaign materials.”
An elderly female professor, Vice-Dean Carla Sinclair, stood at the podium, directing her assistants.
They handed out materials to the students.
While students reviewed them, Carla scanned the candidates.
“…”
Her gaze lingered longer on certain candidates.
She ntally mapped out the election’s likely dynamics.
“Now, I’ll explain the regulations you must follow during the campaign.”
The explanation began, but most upper-class students paid little attention.
They had no intention of staying in the race and had studied the rules before enrolling.
They only thought about how to use the candidate benefits.
Only Joy diligently took notes of Carla’s every word.
The briefing ended with the distribution of late-night passes.
As students were dismissed, they stood in a rush.
Knock-knock-knock-
A knock, and soone entered the council room.
The students gasped, recognizing the newcor.
“Sorry for the sudden visit, Professor Sinclair. I need your signature for the student council retreat docunts.”
It was none other than the student council president, Dalton Kirhausen, politely requesting.
Dozens of hushed gazes focused on him as he handed Carla the docunts.
Marcel, most shocked, stared at Dalton, unable to hide his surprise.
Eddie watched the intriguing scene with gleaming eyes.
Carla tilted her head, puzzled, as she reviewed the docunts.
“This docunt’s deadline is next week. Is there an urgent student council matter, Dalton?”
“Oh… next week? My apologies, Professor. I must’ve confused it with another docunt’s deadline.”
“No matter. It’s an approvable matter, so I’ll sign it now.”
“Thank you.”
Carla signed the docunt from her pocket.
While she signed, Dalton glanced at Marcel, nodding lightly.
“…!”
Marcel’s eyes widened in shock.
Gasps echoed around the room.
The dozens of students realized anew:
Even the great Dalton Kirhausen was beneath Marcel, the next head of the family.
‘Hmm… His intent is clear. But what’s his goal?’
Eddie watched the smiling Dalton, pondering.
Dalton briefly t Eddie’s gaze as he bowed to the vice-dean and left.
‘…I can’t read his intentions.’
Eddie couldn’t discern Dalton’s thoughts from his enigmatic look.
Judging by Marcel’s confusion, he didn’t know either.
Dalton had used the early docunt as an excuse to et Carla, boosting Marcel’s standing in the election.
‘He definitely boosted Marcel’s reputation. But that’s not his ultimate goal.’
Eddie’s intuition told him Dalton had a deeper purpose.
But with the current information, he couldn’t deduce it.
Whispers
Dozens of students murmured as quietly as possible.
Though their bodies were near Alexein, their minds were on Marcel and Dalton.
Even after Carla left with her assistants and students trickled out, their thoughts remained on Dalton and Marcel.
Alexein couldn’t miss the shift in atmosphere.
“…Tch.”
In disbelief, he crumpled the handout in front of him.
Hendricks quickly swapped it with his own pristine copy.
Swallowing his anger at the fickle supporters, Alexein stord out.
Eddie, absorbing the noise, thought:
‘I need to check the information from Rick and Brenda.’
It was ti to receive updates from the second-generation mbers tasked with related matters.
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