- The Penniless Prince and the Dragon
Cheers erupted.
They weren’t meant to rally each other—they were desperate shouts to steel themselves against fear. What lay before them was a sight so horrific that no human could bear to look upon it with open eyes.
Ear-splitting shrieks from the monsters blended with the screams of humans. And at the very heart of that chaos stood the Gold Dragon. The humans and monsters surged past as if the dragon weren’t even there. The Gold Dragon glanced briefly at them, then turned its head. And there, standing far off in the distance, was a man with hair like silver, glinting under the sun.
Carlo.
The dragon’s expression was frigid. With a stomp, the Gold Dragon lifted off into the air, rising high in complete silence. From above, it could see the mayhem unfold below in full view.
So you’ve made me witness this with my own eyes. Calling this a “war” almost felt like an insult to the word. To bring down a single monster required the strength of at least fifteen average soldiers. If a mage was included in the unit, the odds might slightly improve, but… The Gold Dragon lifted its gaze toward the horizon. On the other side, an endless wave of monsters stretched out as far as the eye could see. There was no need to count—this battle was already lost.
Hovering silently in the air, the dragon observed before gradually descending. With a burst of speed, it soared toward a man who looked like he might know how this battle would end. Golden hair and eyes shimmered with a warm glow—evidence of the mana flowing through the Gold Dragon’s form.
Its feet touched the ground, one by one, with quiet grace.
“This is…”
And with that, it spoke. Words not of sympathy, but of scolding—meant for a foolish human. The Gold Dragon raised its head.
And that’s when it saw him.
What the— The dragon’s pupils dilated, then slowly returned to normal. Its gaze locked with the man standing amid the battlefield. Neither said a word.
The dragon had assumed, without a doubt, that the man was Carlo—but it had been mistaken. Even the dragon hadn’t expected this face.
“Is this truly what you want?”
Despite the unexpected identity, the question the dragon asked was the same one it had prepared for Carlo.
“Answer me, Mikhail.”
Clad in magnificent armor, the man lifted his gaze toward the dragon. His silver hair sparkled beautifully in the wind beneath the sunlight.
The atmosphere was nothing like back at the academy. Now, he was a knight—one who wore armor and a greatsword as if they were a natural extension of his body.
A fine blade. The Gold Dragon’s gaze traveled over Mikhail’s sword. A white greatsword, elegantly engraved with winged motifs.
Mikhail smiled at the Gold Dragon. That radiant smile transformed his entire demeanor into someone almost unrecognizable.
Then he opened his mouth to speak.
“What?”
But no sound came out. Was it the din of battle drowning his voice? The Gold Dragon leaned in and muttered, “What did you say?” Yet the silver-haired man paid no mind to the dragon’s reaction, only continuing to move his lips slowly.
I can’t hear him.
The Gold Dragon scowled in irritation at Mikhail. A dragon’s hearing far surpassed that of a human. Not hearing someone at this distance was unthinkable—unless the other person chose not to speak aloud.
Speak louder.
The Gold Dragon murmured under its breath.
“…I…”
Finally, Mikhail’s voice began to reach its ears. But even then, it was impossible to discern exactly what he meant to say. The Gold Dragon narrowed its focus, trying to catch every syllable of that faint voice.
And then—
“You’re just going to leave?”
Adrian’s eyes snapped open. The abrupt jolt back to reality was dizzying. He sat up with a scowl, rubbing at the corners of his eyes.
“……”
He looked down at his body, sprawled atop a dormitory bed at the academy. That dream had been vivid—startlingly real. Adrian ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down with a slow sweep.
I was just waiting between classes after Spirit Studies.
He had come back to the dormitory after class, intending to rest a bit before the next one. But the dream had felt so lifelike it left his mind in a haze, blurring the line between illusion and reality.
“…How much time do we have left?”
Adrian directed the question at Mikhail, who was standing at the dorm room door. He looked younger now than the seasoned knight Adrian had seen in the dream.
“Ten minutes.”
Mikhail glanced at the dorm clock and gave a curt reply. Come to think of it, the prince had been waiting for him to go to class together. Why, though?
Adrian quickly got to his feet and began getting ready to leave. As he did, he stole another glance at Mikhail, who was still standing by the door.
“Instead of staring, how about getting ready faster?”
Mikhail urged with a sharp tone. Only then did the vivid image of him standing on a battlefield begin to feel like a dream. This was reality. Adrian smiled and grabbed his book.
Hm. He gave a small cough and signaled to Mikhail that he was ready. Mikhail responded by opening the door and stepping out of the room first.
“What’s with you waking me up instead of just going alone today?”
Adrian nudged the prince lightly with his elbow as he grinned. He had a good guess, but still wanted to hear it from Mikhail himself. The prince’s brow twitched ever so slightly, but he answered obediently.
“Once that door opens—”
Adrian turned his head toward the voice. He was curious what kind of expression the prince was wearing now. His face was serious.
“We have to find that salamander inside, don’t we? The book said it takes years for a salamander to digest what it swallows.”
“…So I don’t get a say in this?”
Adrian asked, frowning at the prince’s assumption.
The prince gave his roommate a flat look as they walked side by side. He didn’t say it aloud, but his expression made it clear: Then what’s your opinion?
“Well, it’s supposed to be a door that kills you when you go through, right?”
Adrian responded with a chuckle. He didn’t actually believe a door could kill him, and besides, dragons couldn’t die—so he wasn’t truly afraid.
Which meant…
“We definitely have to go in.”
“…You’re seriously a weirdo.”
“You should be grateful to have a roommate like me.”
With a flick of his head, Mikhail turned away as if Adrian’s words weren’t even worth responding to. Adrian smiled quietly at that childishly cold attitude.
***
The public administration professor was an average-looking man, and as soon as all the students had arrived in the lecture hall, he began speaking from the podium.
“Welcome, everyone. Congratulations on being accepted into Basamiel Academy. Now that you’ve enrolled, I don’t think there’s anyone who would deny that you’re the future leaders of the Rustavaran Kingdom.”
He wasn’t wrong. The entry requirements were notoriously strict, but once you graduated from Basamiel Academy, doors opened for you anywhere in the kingdom.
“Over the next four years, you’ll be studying swordsmanship, magic, spirit studies, alchemy, and the arts until you’re absolutely sick of them… But no matter how skilled a knight may be—what’s the point? Remember: knights, mages, alchemists—you’re all still members of Rustavaran society. In this class, I won’t be teaching you theory from a textbook. I’ll be showing you how the world really works.”
The professor raised an index finger and scanned the faces of the students seated before him.
“In Public Administration, we teach you how to manage things. And not just anything—the single most important thing in life: money management!”
Money management? Adrian crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, staring at the podium with a flat expression. He wasn’t the only one. Most of the students had similar looks on their faces—kids who’d never known the meaning of financial struggle.
“However,” The professor’s upbeat tone cut through the students’ apathy.
“The currency used at the Academy is not the kingdom’s gold. Basamiel Academy provides the bare minimum—supplies and meals. But anything beyond that, whether services or items, must be purchased using the Academy’s currency: Tilons.”
Some students nodded knowingly. A few had already heard rumors about the Academy, and others had come across the currency during their first week on campus.
Adrian hadn’t heard a thing, so he sat up straighter and listened more carefully.
“The administrative faculty manages the Academy’s operations. Of course, we also have a formal faculty and dormitory staff, but the student-run sectors operate independently. Our administration handles the distribution of Tilons and the budgets for each department—just like a real government.
Each department has its own assigned duties: the Knight Division oversees the training grounds and forest; the Mage Division maintains all internal mana-charging stations; the Spirit Divisions and Alchemy Divisions jointly manage the herb gardens and greenhouses; and the Arts Division is responsible for organizing festivals and events.”
Finally, the professor offered one last piece of advice.
“Tilons are valued very differently from the kingdom’s gold. For example, a subscription to the campus newspaper costs 10 Tilons per month.”
…Who even reads the school newspaper? Adrian scratched his cheek, thoroughly uninterested. The other students looked just as unimpressed. If it were a paper about the kingdom, maybe he’d consider it.
The professor smirked as he took in their expressions. Sure, they all looked indifferent now—but give it a little time, and every last one of them would be subscribing. He was sure of it.
“Professor.” Yushi raised her hand.
“Yes, go ahead,” the professor nodded.
“How do we earn Tilons?”
At that question, the professor’s lips curled into a wide grin.
