When cadets wanted to take on an academy mission, they had to visit the Mission Office—located in the administrative wing of the academy.
As Azriel and Celestina walked in, the first thing they noticed was the crowd. Multiple lines of cadets stretched toward desks where instructors sat, approving, assigning, and confirming missions.
Azriel groaned internally at the sight.
“Surely a prince and a princess are above waiting in line… right?”
He turned to Celestina with a look that screamed one thing:
I don’t want to wait!
Unfortunately for him, Celestina crushed his fleeting hope with a single shake of her head.
“We’re cadets in the academy. Unless you want to break the rules and intimidate them with our status, I suggest we wait in line like everyone else.”
Azriel’s shoulders slumped in disappointment, but he didn’t argue. Without another word, the two joined the nearest line.
The cadet standing in front of them glanced back, perhaps out of curiosity.
But the moment his eyes met theirs—Celestina’s calm, unyielding gaze and Azriel’s sharp, cold stare—he froze. His face paled as he stumbled backward, bumping into the person ahead of him.
“Ouch! What the hell, man?”
The cadet who’d been bumped into spun around, glaring. Then he followed the frozen cadet’s gaze… and instantly froze as well.
With a trembling hand, he pointed at them.
“P-Princess Celestina! Prince Azriel!”
The shout rang out like a bell, and the room fell silent. Heads turned as dozens of cadets swiveled to look at the two of them.
Azriel leaned slightly toward Celestina.
“Looks like status for the win…”
Before she could reply, the line in front of them split apart like a wave, cadets hurriedly stepping aside to clear a path.
‘No. Aren’t they exaggerating? Why do they always have to act so dramatic?’
Azriel sighed inwardly.
Celestina glanced at him, her expression unreadable, before speaking.
“You know, I prefer not to take advantage of situations like this…”
Azriel raised an eyebrow.
“…But?”
“Fine, you win. Let’s just go.”
A slight smile tugged at Azriel’s lips as they walked forward, following the path cleared for them.
It didn’t take long to reach the front. Behind the desk sat a middle-aged woman wearing glasses. She glanced up from her papers, unimpressed, despite the commotion behind them.
On her desk, a small nameplate read: M. Penny.
“I suppose the two of you aren’t here to give me any rewards?”
“No, we’re here requesting a mission suitable for the two of us,” Celestina said.
The woman behind the desk, Instructor Penny, grumbled something under her breath—too low for Azriel to catch—before picking up a file of papers and handing it to Celestina.
Azriel leaned forward, glancing at the papers. A list of missions was neatly categorized into four tiers:
D Tier
C Tier
B Tier
A Tier
Generally, cadets were required to complete a certain number of missions by the end of each semester, but this rule only applied to second and third years. First years, while allowed to take on missions, weren’t yet bound by any quotas.
The tiers reflected the difficulty of the missions. For first-year cadets, D-tier missions were the standard. Second years could handle D, C, and occasionally B-tier missions, while third years were expected to take on even A-tier challenges.
As Celestina and Azriel scanned the list, Azriel’s mood soured with every passing second.
‘I know these tiers are supposed to measure difficulty for cadets of our level, but…’
He stared at the list in disbelief.
‘Finding a missing cat? Helping an old lady with groceries? Delivering a letter? What the hell is this? What do they think heroes are meant for?’
Suppressing a scowl, Azriel turned to Celestina.
“I’d rather get shot in the head than do any of these.”
Celestina, her expression unreadable, glanced at him briefly before turning her attention back to Instructor Penny.
“I asked for suitable missions. Instructor, do these missions look suitable to you when you look at the two of us?”
Though her expression didn’t change, her voice grew slightly colder. Both Azriel and Penny noticed the shift.
The instructor sighed, clearly tired of the conversation.
“I understand your frustration, Cadet Celestina, but rules are rules. If you two want more difficult missions, then you need merit fir—”
“Maybe you haven’t seen the recent headlines or scrolled through social media? I’m pretty sure my name has been popping up. And this time, it’s not about partying or… other degeneracy. Perhaps checking Celestina’s list of achievements would also give you a better perspective.”
Azriel cut in, narrowing his eyes as he picked the list of missions from Celestina and handed it back to the instructor.
Instructor Penny let out another heavy sigh, shaking her head.
“Merit as a cadet, not as a child of the great clans. Every cadet starts with D-tier missions, and I’m not about to bend my rotten knees, even for the two of you. There’s a better chance of me going on a date with Saint Solomon than that happening.”
Azriel massaged the back of his neck, his expression troubled. He glanced at Celestina, who stood perfectly still, her face calm as she seemed deep in thought.
‘…Well, I could always ask Freya for help getting better missions,’ Azriel mused, ‘but then Amaya or Jasmine might find out.’
And technically, he wasn’t allowed to leave the academy unsupervised.
But…
Azriel’s gaze lingered on the silver-haired girl in front of him.
‘Technically, I’m not alone, so I’m not breaking any promises, right?’
Surely, it would be fine.
Surely.
‘…Though, there is another way. I hope he forgives me if this goes wrong.’
A wry smile spread across Azriel’s face as he rubbed his hands together, turning to the instructor.
“Instructor Penny, how about we make a deal?”
Penny narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Beside him, Celestina tilted her head slightly, looking at him with faint confusion.
“You think your money or status will help you, boy? You’re wasting your time. Pick a mission or scram.”
Azriel shook his head slowly, his smile growing wider.
“Of course not! A stunning and brilliant woman like you, Instructor Penny, has no need for money or connections. But… I can offer you something related to what you just said.”
Penny raised an eyebrow, still skeptical.
“…And that is?”
Azriel glanced around. The cadets in the room were pretending to go about their business, but their subtle glances and strained postures betrayed the fact that they were eavesdropping. Satisfied that no one was directly staring at them, Azriel stepped closer and leaned forward, lowering his voice so that only Celestina and Penny could hear.
“I can give you Saint Solomon’s number.”
