How to Survive at the Academy

Election Campaign for the Student Council President (8)

The election for the student council president is the most attention-grabbing event among the early semester activities for students. This is particularly notable as the previous student council president, Veros, who had served two consecutive years, has graduated. While Veros was known for being moderate and quiet during his tenure, he was nonetheless a commendable president who managed to coordinate well between the faculty and students without major incidents.

The position of student council president at the Sylvan Academy is no small matter. The president can exert substantial influence on the academy’s operational policies, mobilize various student resources including department heads if desired, and, in times of crisis, wield authority almost on par with the principal.

Moreover, the symbolism of the position is far from trivial. Students who have served as president at Sylvan often find themselves subsequently handpicked for influential roles in various magical towers, royal court positions, and administrative jobs in many cities, just by the virtue of having that experience. For those with decent lineage, it could even serve as a stepping stone into the political scene centered around the imperial capital. Thus, it’s a coveted position that many ambitious students dream of attaining at least once.

From in front of the Obel Hall to the entrance of the student square, the wide-open space was already packed with numerous students. The crowd was so enormous that the academy had to deploy safety officers.

The podium on the first floor of Obel Hall was large, but it remained uncertain if the voice of the speaker would reach the back of the gathered crowd, despite the use of amplification magic—which wasn’t foolproof.

“And that concludes my speech.”

– Wowwwwwww!

There were a total of four candidates for the student council president. Among them, the two receiving the most attention were Rortel and Tanya. The heir to the Rosetailor family who announced his candidacy with the support of Princess Fenia, and the acting head of the Elte Commerce Association, which practically dominated the economic rights of the student dormitories.

The confrontation between the two candidates was keenly observed by both the students and the academy staff, and now the results were becoming somewhat more predictable.

– Our next student council president, Rortel!

– If he can lead a trade company at his age, he’ll surely do well as student council president!

– There’s no one better suited for president than Rortel Kehlern…!

– You can feel the sincerity in his platform…! Why would the representative of Elte Commerce even want to be student council president if not for a clear purpose!

– He’s got my full support…! The next president will be Rortel!

As Rortel finished his speech and stepped down from the podium, a thunderous cheer poured out. Rortel, still exuding his presence while waving his hand on his way down, had completed his turn at the podium gracefully despite the elaborate dress decked with laces.

Rortel had no desire to become the student council president. Only a few employees of Elte Commerce were privy to this fact.

Nonetheless, looking at Rortel now, smiling amidst the cheering crowd and exiting the stage, it seemed utterly unremarkable for him to be elected as president.

Having lived his entire life as a merchant, it is highly unlikely that Rortel would put aside his duties at Elte Commerce to focus on the role of student council president. Yet, to anyone looking, he seemed to be giving his all to become president, receiving the most overwhelming response from the public.

Having proven his abilities over an extended period as the de facto ruler of Elte Commerce, his manifesto seemed to hit all the right notes, as if scratching an itch for the public.

Not to mention, he has managed to garner considerable support among the students through political funding facilitated by the academy staff.

“The higher one rises, the more people watch when they fall.”

Rortel continued to wave cheerfully, offering a sly smile to the eyes watching him.

Just as his past was illustrious, so too were his enemies numerous. Dealing with the public always means not being surrounded solely by allies. Especially for those factions harboring resentment against Rortel, likely resentful trade partners who had been forced to reluctantly nod along with various demands pushed by Elte Commerce.

One recent example was the incident with Laplace Bakery, which almost ceased receiving supplies due to a problem with an unscrupulous owner who attempted to secure priority supplies through excessive orders. It was not a pleasant experience.

To sum it up… Elte Commerce had leveraged its position in charge of the dormitory marketplace to bully its trade partners with almost brazen impunity—for the most part under seemingly legitimate pretenses. However, to those on the receiving end, the legitimacy of those actions mattered little.

While they may all harbor resentment toward Rortel, the growing influence makes it difficult for them to voice their displeasure openly.

Rortel was someone who could even turn that animosity to his advantage.

“By now, all the material should have been circulated.”

Having fully descended from the podium, Rortel removed one piece of jewelry after another, adorned on his body. The blue rose-shaped hairpins, earrings with dark red beads, and the dangling laces. With each piece of pretense removed, he felt a return to his mercantile origins.

Waiting in front of the podium were his secretary Lien and henchman Dune in a respectful stance—employees of Elte Commerce.

Handing over the removed jewelry haphazardly, Rortel let down his hair and entered the first floor of Obel Hall.

“Kadek and Nox?”

“They’ve escaped as planned.”

“Good. What about the documents we circulated to our trade partners?”

“They’ve taken the bait. It will probably be exposed during the election period.”

A brief exchange with his secretaries. After receiving all the necessary reports, Rortel once again looked out towards the square from the entrance of Obel Hall.

Although the immense crowd was chanting his name in unison, Rortel’s expression had cooled.

She was well aware. Public support is like the sea; it comes in waves, crashing in like a high tide, only to recede as if it had never been there at all.

The documentation that Elte Commerce had distributed to the trade partners in the dormitory implicated Rortel in embezzlement of company funds—a fabrication by Rortel himself.

Since Rortel considered himself and Elte Commerce as one, he had no reason to embezzle funds from the company.

The important thing was merely needing an imperfection to bring himself down.

Those trade partners, holding grudges against Rortel, would not forgo such an excellent opportunity. To tarnish the capable and moral image that Rortel had built… they would reveal the embezzlement and its immorality to the world.

As long as the whistleblowers’ anonymity remained somewhat protected, there would be no shortage of trade partners aiming to stab Rortel in the back.

An embezzlement scandal would be devastating for the image of student council president, a position expected to maintain integrity.

It would become the catalyst for the beloved Rortel’s abrupt downfall.

Then, all the spotlight would shift to the other candidate, Tanya, standing opposite Rortel. The contrast effect would be dramatic.

There’s a peculiar catharsis in the downfall of the righteous.

It is during the moment when someone seemingly commanding the world falls meaninglessly that the attention of all converges.

Should that moment be seized to showcase Tanya’s steadfastness, Rortel would willingly turn the public against him.

Because it could prove profitable.

“Acting Head Rortel. Are you certain this is the plan you wish to pursue?” Lien, the secretary, suddenly asked—a question that overstepped her boundaries.

Rortel had lived a life playing the role of the villain. He wasn’t one to hesitate in embracing that character.

Sure, infamy and disgrace might follow him, but to Rortel, they were as much a part of him as any limb.

Rortel was not one to bask in the limelight on stage. He is often the one standing behind the curtain.

That’s why it’s crucial to carefully choose who will stand on that stage.

“Oh.”

There were four candidates in this student council president election. However, the two candidates who went ahead of Rortel were seen as inconsequential due to their weak influence and interest.

However, the next person due to take the podium after Rortel was someone who had caught the public eye.

“You seem nervous, Tanya.”

Tanya, who was about to follow Rortel to the podium, stood before him with her lips pressed tightly together, her hands clutching the hem of her skirt shaking slightly.

Passing by Rortel, she had to ascend the podium and declare her candidacy.

In a place where everyone was chanting Rortel’s name, she had to persuade the audience while carrying the weight of suspicion under the allegation of incitement to murder.

It was an ordeal close to torture, and Tanya alone had to withstand it.

“I…”

Tanya’s following words caught Rortel slightly by surprise.

“I did not kill Ed Oraboni.”

With a resolve that seemed unshakeable, she looked straight into Rortel’s eyes as she spoke.

Almost two weeks had passed since Ed had retreated into seclusion. Tanya, having fled the royal residence of her own accord, challenged the investigating academy authorities, striving to prove her innocence, and at the same time, prepared for the student council presidential election—a relentless march.

Physically and mentally exhausted, there was still a vigor in her resolute demeanor. The sight of Tanya trembling and shrinking before Rortel was now nowhere to be seen.

She stood on equal footing, speaking only the truth as it was.

After finishing her statement, Tanya walked past Rortel towards the podium.

*

An eerie silence enveloped the area.

The crowd of students in the square was immense, yet there was not a whisper among them.

Up until a moment ago, the space was filled with the sound of cheers for Rortel, but now the scene was starkly contrasting.

From the podium, one could survey the faces in the crowd.

Wade, the first-year valedictorian, and Dyke, the senior class valedictorian, stood at the front, drawing the eyes of their fellow students.

Elsewhere in the crowd, Cleverius, who seemed to have recovered from his injuries, had all his bandages removed, while Elvira’s face could be seen nearby.

At the back, Sword Master Tailly was watching with his arms folded, accompanied by Ayla, who had her head resting on his shoulder.

And among them were Onyx, the master of flight magic; Anise, the lead teaching assistant; Claude, the alchemist of disaster; Joseph, the youngest researcher at the magic tower; Dorothy, the expert in reagent preparation; Adel, the romantic minstrel; and Tracyana, the master of elemental magic…

One after another, luminous talents of Sylvan filled the venue, as Tanya stood squarely in front of them and began to speak.

“Hello. I am Tanya Rosetailor, and I stand before you as a candidate for this student council presidential election.”

Even the less significant candidates who had taken the podium before Rortel were at least met with applause when they greeted the crowd.

But the assembly stayed silent. Eventually, a smattering of applause broke out here and there, yet it faltered quickly, as the majority neither clapped nor made a move, snuffing out even those few traces of sound.

Tanya looked up, took a deep breath, and then swallowed hard.

The heavy gaze of each student seemed to be choking her very breath.

Not sheltered from direct mockery due to the grandeur of the Taylor family, Tanya faced a chilling scene. Hundreds, if not thousands, of cold eyes seemed to ask her:

“Should a murderer really be running for student council president? Are you so hungry for power?”

This nightmarish scene could cause lifelong trauma depending on one’s disposition.

“Heh, uh…”

Though Tanya’s breath momentarily hitched, she managed not to show her distress. With a resolve as solid as a rock, she continued her speech.

“I… I stand before you today because─”

Tanya proceeded with her speech amid silence. Despite passing 5 and then 10 minutes, the crowd remained deathly quiet, a stark contrast to the applause given at natural breaks in speeches prior. The silence was an unspoken pressure against Tanya.

“Enough, step down. No one supports you.” Despite the support from Princess Penia, or her status as a descendant of a noble ducal house, the crowd seemed to say she was unworthy of the presidency.

Tanya gritted her teeth and went on, but the audience remained unresponsive. Fighting back tears was a must; showing weakness would mean the end. She had to appear unfazed, keep a steely face, and act normal if she were to stand before them.

She spoke of practical restoration plans for student facilities, reforms in financial structures, scholarship expansions, and improvements in student treatment. Yet, no one listened.

Finally, her speech time ended.

“Then… thank you for listening…”

– Murderer!

A voice rang out, cowardly hidden in the crowd, dropping like a drop of poison in food—subtle, yet potent. Tanya felt as if she was choking, but miraculously she shook her head in negation.

“Explain the murder conspiracy!” “Is the internal struggle of the Rostaylor family to blame?” “If we go by the student paper… it’s as if…” “Is running for president now really the proper conduct?” “I might give it a shot if I entered Sylvainia under the Rostaylor name…!” “That’s right. If elected, it’s a jackpot…!” “Still, no word on the allegations of murder conspiracy…?”

Gradually, the whispers swelled. Some pretended to whisper, some talked softly, but even the slightest of these comments shook Tanya’s resolve. Nausea hit her, forcing her to grasp the podium to keep from collapsing.

She knew it was foolish to stand there, a base act in itself. But she didn’t want to run anymore.

All Tanya Rostaylor had done since entering Slyvania was to be surprised, manipulated, and run away. Living a life always looking for an opportunity yet trembling when it finally came felt pitifully pathetic.

“Thank you for listening to my story…”

Barely managing her closing statement, Tanya clutched at coherence, as the room seemed to spin. She didn’t want to appear pitiful on the stand.

Even if she would later weep into her pillow in her room, before this crowd, she needed to remain strong.

– Crash!

But life doesn’t always work out as one wishes. She couldn’t withstand the mental pressure and collapsed to the floor amid faint laughter.

– Snicker! Chortle! “Don’t laugh! I feel like laughing too!”

With the crowd’s murmurs behind her, Tanya covered her face, determined not to show her tears. Yet, despair gnawed away at her. Perhaps she had reached her limit.

Just when she thought she had done enough, life’s tide turned, as abruptly as a gust of wind.

– Whoosh!

A fierce wind blew, not a gentle breeze of late spring, but a monstrous gale.

– Scream! “What the… All of a sudden?!”

Banners fluttered, students clung to each other for stability, some stumbled, while others grabbed at their hair to see through the chaos.

When the wind subsided, everyone caught their breath, even the security personnel were shocked.

“What was that?!” “Ahh… Aghh… Should we run?!”

A wolf, larger than the podium, suddenly appeared—a being manifested using the powers of Eenyka’s resonation, as if it leapt through space.

– Howl!

The wolf’s howl resounded grandly. Upon its back sat a familiar face, Eenyka Phailober, and a robed boy.

“It’s…!” “A high-ranking wind spirit! That’s a high-ranking wind spirit…!” “I’ve seen it during the elemental allocation exam…!”

Some students recognized the wolf from when Edgar summoned it at the top of Oransan. He had brought it out, hoping for recognition.

Tanya, too, had seen this spirit materialize. It was the same one her brother, Ed Rostaylor, had controlled at the Altar of Substitution.

The robed boy approached the podium, and looking up, Tanya could see the blonde boy’s face beneath the cloak’s shadow.

She tried to speak, but no words came out as emotions clogged her throat.

“A… Uh…”

Seeing this surreal sight made her wonder if it was a hallucination, but…

“You’ve had a hard time because of me, Tanya. I’m really… sorry about that.”

As Ed’s voice filled her ears, she knew for certain.

“There’s a lot to explain, but first, let’s deal with the present situation.”

Ed knelt and comforted Tanya with a pat on the back.

He stood, donning his cloak, revealing his face, and the crowd gasped.

“Is that… That man is…” “Ed Rostaylor! Certainly… it’s him…” “I attended elemental studies with him… That’s the same Ed Rostaylor they said was dead in the student paper…!” “An impostor…? It can’t be, can it?!” “Idiot! Look at the high-ranking spirit! How many people here can handle that?!”

Standing before a confused crowd, Ed steadied the podium.

With a cough to clear his throat, silence returned instantly. Everyone was ready to hear what Ed had to say.

What would be his first words? Should he explain his own survival first? That wasn’t something he could simply explain away. It would take time.

This was a setting for the student council presidential campaign declaration. Thus, it seemed right to speak of matters appropriate for this occasion.

First and foremost, he needed to address the reputation that Tanya had been shattered.

Only one person could decisively handle this—Ed Rostaylor himself.

“Hello, this is Ed Rostaylor.”

His influence was not immense over all students, but it reached the department heads. Winning them over is a key strategy in the student council presidential race.

“I have not been murdered by Tanya Rostaylor, and in fact, I support her more actively than anyone.”

The senior class head Luce Merille and the third-year head Eenyka Phailober would follow his lead if persuaded.

Furthermore, the second-year combat head Clevious acknowledged him internally, as did the vice head of the magic department, Zix, and the head of the alchemy department, Elvira, who respected his abilities.

The first-year magic department head Yozeph Wade also knew his merits, so the significance of Ed Rostaylor’s support went without saying—even more so with the backing of Princess Penia.

Yet, for Tanya, it was more about support than political gain.

“Please understand Tanya’s intentions, as her family, I am always here to cheer her on.”

From her place on the podium, Tanya swiped at her face repeatedly… watching Ed’s back, her breath caught.

Memories of climbing the estate’s hills with Ed overlapped with this moment.

Was it the recollection of that distant memory, leaning on him when out of breath?

The memories that had whispered to Tanya through the hard times, that one day she would be rewarded for her struggles.

Nights are darkest before dawn, Tanya had whispered to herself every night, believing there would be an end to the darkness in her life.