How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World

This year, there were approximately 200 freshmen at Halo Academy. There were 150 martial arts students and only 50 literature students here.

The setting of this world explains why there were three times as many people in martial arts as there were in literature. Unlike in my previous life, the world relied on the power of humans rather than machines in a world where monsters and mana existed.

As a result, education became more focused on ‘Martial Arts,’ and magic, as a type of force, was incorporated into martial arts. As a result, I heard that even within Martial Arts, classes were divided based on characteristics.

If you look at it this way, you might think that literature was being overlooked, but it was not. There were numerous examples of people changing the world without the use of individual strength.

Furthermore, unlike martial arts, which was closely associated with the military, literature was considered a profession. If soldiers are the spear and shield that protect the country, the profession is the country’s backbone.

So, how would the literary class go?

That’s the way it is. It’s like cramming all 50 students into one class.

Cecily and Rina eventually ended up in the same class. Damn it.

“Ah~ Princess Cecily is also a literature person. It’s an honor to learn together.”

“Huh? Who are you?”

While Lina and Cecily were having a friendly conversation, a boy interrupted. Cecily and Rina’s faces were etched with displeasure for a brief moment, but it quickly faded.

In any case, the male student introduced himself with a gentle smile.

“My name is Jackson Mirrell Kerrison. The beautiful Demon Princess and the Great Sun of the Empire.”

I snorted at the man who was already playing tricks. The insides were so obvious that I was dumbfounded.

You might ask me if I’m overreacting, but if you’re stuck in a concept, you don’t get involved in a conversation like that.

Even if other people saw Rina and Cecily sitting next to each other, they would not approach. I’m not sure if I should call that bravery or arrogance. Perhaps he’s simply ignorant.

Cecily tilted her head and opened her mouth to say she wasn’t interested when she heard Jackson’s self-introduction.

“Even if I hear it, I don’t know. Perhaps Rina is aware?”

“…Count Kerrison is one of the richest families in our Minerva Empire.”

Jackson shrugged when Rina explained to her about his family. Should we play as we like? In any case, every single action of his was unwitting and greasy.

After that, Jackson asked Cecily in a subtle voice, as he drew his face closer to her if he had gained any confidence. Cecily kept her calm as his face got closer.

“Did you hear that? What do you think?”

“What?”

“Yes. If you are interested in me…”

“I’m not interested, so will you go away?”

“…later. Huh?”

Of course, when Cecily flatly refused, his expression changed to bewilderment.

Cecily maintained her calm demeanor.

“I was talking to Rina, and I must say that it was disrespectful of you to cut in.”

Cecily then asked Rina a question.

“Rina. Are all the nobles of the Minerva Empire like this?”

“No. It’s just him. Did you say Count Kerrison? Did you learn to flirt with Lady at Count Kerrison?”

“Oh, no. That’s…”

“If you have nothing more to say, will you go back? The class will start soon.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry!”

When Rina, not anyone else, gave a sharp order, Jackson quickly apologized and returned. When I examined his face, it was bright red, as if it were about to explode.

He could have gone halfway if he had stood still, but that guy ate it himself. Count Kerrison, on the other hand, would never dare to open up to the princess.

If you fold it for no reason, your family will collapse, let alone you, so shouldn’t you behave properly? You’re an idiot if you can’t even do that.

“Huh? You are that redhead from yesterday!”

“Huh?”

I was keeping an eye on the situation when I heard a chirping voice next to me. A very familiar voice.

I turn around to see what it is. Marie, the white-haired girl I met at the bookstore the day before, was pointing at me.

‘Ah, goodness. She’s a literature student, too?’

Heaven abets you. I have the same major as the woman I had a bad first meeting with.

Perhaps not knowing what I was thinking, Marie, the white-haired girl, shot at me with her hand on her waist.

“You laughed at me yesterday, right?”

Not really.

“Well, seeing you standing in front of the door, you must have been in the same situation as me. Isn’t it? You must have been annoyed to see that the books were sold out too.”

I have a draft, not a book. And rather than annoyed, I was baffled.

I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I kept my mouth shut, and Marie raised one corner of her mouth and grunted. It seems that she misunderstood and made judgments on her own.

After that, she took a deep breath and opened her mouth with the nuance that she had been kind.

“Phew. All right. What’s the point of fighting in similar situations? I’ll especially forgive the rudeness of yesterday.”

“… …”

“I’m sure the author doesn’t want us to fight either. Besides, the situation would be a disgrace to his reputation, not to us. Don’t you think so?”