Chapter 8: The Art of Subtle Insults

The class ended abruptly with the team project group assignments.

It was still the first week, Thursday of orientation week, after all.

“Now that the teams are set, let’s share a meal together and get to know each other!”

Geivolg declared, raising his index finger dramatically.

His beaming smile revealed just how much he was looking forward to the group project.

‘He probably has no experience with group projects,’ Sion thought, smirking bitterly at Geivolg’s enthusiasm.

Geivolg had just broken an unspoken rule of group projects: never take the lead too quickly.

Rule one of group projects: never grab the steering wheel.

‘The first person to start organizing automatically becomes the leader.’

By making such a bold suggestion, Geivolg was basically announcing, “I want to be the group leader,” or “This project and grade are really important to me!”

So what’s the right strategy? Sion employed the golden rule of group projects: go with the flow.

“Yes, sure… sounds good,” Sion replied.

“Excellent answer, Sion! How about the rest of you? Feel free to speak up if you’re unavailable!”

Geivolg nodded approvingly.

Patrick scratched the back of his head with a laugh.

“Well, I was planning to eat anyway. We’re all in the magic department, so we’ll have the same afternoon classes, right?”

“Patrick, you’re on board too? Fantastic! That just leaves one more!”

Geivolg’s gaze darted to the only female in their group, Estroza Farewell, who sat smiling serenely.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Sir Geivolg.”

“Ha! Thank you for saying so. Alright then, let’s head to the cafeteria together!”

Geivolg marched confidently out of the classroom, his movements as precise as a military drill.

‘This should be fine… right?’ Sion thought, anxiety creeping in.

He had entrusted the metaphorical steering wheel to Geivolg, but there was no telling if their new leader would drive straight to the destination or crash them into a metaphorical guardrail.

“Sion, stop spacing out and let’s go,” Patrick called.

“Oh, right,” Sion replied, snapping out of his thoughts.

Estroza had already followed Geivolg out of the room.

‘Well, it’ll work out somehow,’ Sion decided, forcing himself to be optimistic.

After all, Geivolg wasn’t just any student; he was the academy’s second-ranked freshman.

That meant he wasn’t just one of the best in the magic department but among the entire freshman class.

Surely, having someone like him in the group was a good thing.

At the academy cafeteria, Geivolg spoke up as soon as everyone sat down with their food.

“Let’s start with introductions! Ahem, I am Geivolg Rodenburg, the second prince of the Rodenburg Kingdom. However, since the academy is a place of equal learning without regard to rank, please feel free to call me Geivolg. That’s all!”

He concluded with a pointed gesture of his index finger—clearly a trademark of his.

Next, Patrick gave a casual nod.

“I’m Patrick Hanson, the fourth son of the Hanson Barony in the Empire. Let’s do our best on this project.”

Patrick’s introduction was smooth and effortless.

Then it was Sion’s turn.

‘It feels ridiculous to be doing introductions at my age,’ Sion thought, nervously.

“Uh, well… Hi, I’m Sion. I don’t have a family name; I’m a commoner. Please take care of me.”

He finished with an awkward bow.

Finally, it was Estroza’s turn.

“Hello, I’m Estroza Farewell, from the Marquisate of Farewell. I strive to uphold the honor of my family’s name in all I do. I look forward to working with you.”

She ended her introduction with a graceful smile, and the group collectively picked up their utensils.

Or rather, most of them did.

“Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, I think it’d be good to share our strengths in magic,” Geivolg said. “After all, we’ll be tackling dungeons together as comrades.”

“Uh… is that necessary?” Sion asked, caught off guard.

“Of course! Didn’t Professor Baries say today that information is key in dungeons? That includes knowing about your allies!”

With another dramatic gesture, Geivolg pointed his index finger at Patrick.

“Patrick, why don’t you start?”

“Well… shouldn’t we just eat first? Dungeon exercises will take time, so we can discuss it then,” Patrick replied, trying to deflect.

“Hm! You make a good point. My apologies for interrupting the meal. Haha! Let’s eat first.”

Geivolg laughed heartily and picked up his spoon, finally allowing everyone to eat in peace.

‘Do I need to worry about table manners around nobles?’ Sion wondered, glancing around.

Sharing a table with a prince and the daughter of a marquis was no small matter.

As a commoner, he hoped for some leeway, but he still felt self-conscious.

He decided to mimic Estroza’s elegant dining style.

‘It’s like watching a textbook on noble etiquette.’

Despite using the same utensils, she made no sound at all when she ate. The contrast was striking.

‘This is what they mean by the dignity of a marquis family…’

Sion tried to copy her, but his lack of practice led to frequent mistakes.

“Your name is Sion, right?”

“W-What? Me?”

“Yes, Sion. There’s no need to obsess over table manners,” Estroza said with a gentle smile.

“Everyone has their own way of eating. Just eat in a way that suits you.”

Sion felt as though he had been struck by a hammer.

She truly was a noble. Even in the simplest comments, her grace was undeniable.

‘Is she really only twenty? It’s hard to believe.’

It was astonishing to think that Estroza was the same age as a twenty-year-old university student back on Earth. Her poise and dignity were beyond comparison.

Geivolg nodded in agreement and praised her.

“Well said! As expected of the daughter of the Marquisate of Farewell.”

“You flatter me.”

“Still, let’s drop the formalities. The academy is a place of equal learning for all!”

“Equality doesn’t mean we abandon respect. However, if you insist, I’ll speak more casually,” she replied with a radiant smile.

Sion felt relieved to have someone like Estroza in their group.

She seemed rational and considerate.

Plus, according to Patrick, the Farewell family was a prestigious lineage known for producing exceptional mages.

‘Our team really isn’t bad at all.’

There was Geivolg, the academy’s second-ranked freshman, a bit rigid but undeniably capable.

Patrick was sharp and personable.

And Estroza… composed, dignified, and kind-hearted.

Sion couldn’t help but smile as he focused on his meal.

Without worrying about table manners, he felt far more at ease.

That is, until he accidentally spilled some food on his clothes.

“Ah…”

“Sion, it seems you were really hungry,” Estroza remarked.

“Oh, yeah. I tend to skip breakfast,” Sion replied with an awkward laugh.

“I see. Maintaining regular eating habits is important. While skipping meals is sometimes unavoidable, eating three meals a day is ideal for good health.”

“Estroza is absolutely right. Regular meals are essential! Don’t you think so, Patrick?”

“Haha, yeah,” Patrick agreed.

The conversation carried on lightheartedly as their meal came to an end.

For Sion, who had few close friends in university during his past life, this moment felt special.

‘I was so focused on studying back then. This kind of life isn’t bad at all.’

He realized he had rarely eaten with friends. In fact, he’d shared more meals with professors than peers.

This shared meal brought a nostalgic warmth to his heart.

“Hmm, it’s already time! Let’s head to our next class!” Geivolg announced.

“Good idea, Geivolg. Let’s go,” Estroza agreed with a smile.

“Hahaha!”

Geivolg and Estroza took the lead, walking ahead.

As Sion moved to follow, Patrick placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Patrick? What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”

“…Not really. I just think you should be cautious about her.”

“Her? You mean Estroza?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down!”

“Oh, okay… What is it?”

“Listen carefully, Sion,” Patrick whispered.

“That girl… she’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t know. Do you realize how many times she mocked you during that meal?”

“She… mocked me?”

Sion was confused.

All he remembered was Estroza kindly telling him not to worry about table manners.

“Let me break it down for you,” Patrick sighed before explaining what he believed was the true meaning behind Estroza’s words.

“‘There’s no need to obsess over table manners.’

→ ‘You’re a commoner. Why bother with table manners? You’ll never get it right.’

‘Everyone has their own way of eating. Just eat in a way that suits you.’

→ ‘You’re a commoner, so just eat like one—messy and crude.’

‘It seems you were really hungry.’

→ ‘What are you, starving? Look at you wolfing down your food and spilling it everywhere.’

‘Maintaining regular eating habits is important.’

→ ‘Typical commoner, skipping meals like you’ve never learned how to eat properly.’”

Sion stared blankly as Patrick finished his interpretation.

“Isn’t that… a bit of a stretch?”

“It’s not. You’ve never dealt with real nobles before, have you?”

“Well… no, not really.”

“Nobles are experts at subtle insults. And that girl? She’s a master of it.”

Patrick shook his head, as if pitying Sion’s naivety.

Sion’s mind reeled.

Could he have been so wrong about Estroza? Could her seemingly kind words have been veiled barbs?

‘Come to think of it… this reminds me of something.’

In his past life, Sion had heard about regions known for their subtle, indirect speech—places like Korea’s Chungcheong Province or Japan’s Kyoto.

While Chungcheong’s style leaned playful, Kyoto’s was sharper, almost cutting.

Estroza seemed to embody the latter.

She wielded her words like a Kyoto-born master of veiled insults.