Still Fantasizing

After a bout of vomiting, it was followed by uproarious laughter.

The complaints from her friends inevitably reminded Geya of the article she'd been severely criticized for last night—

"Return the Nobles' money in full, take a 70/30 split of the commoners' money."

She had spent a long time refining her wording before finally summarizing Lord Versace's actions that day onto paper.

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But the instructor's reprimand meant the academy could no longer tolerate any truthful voices.

And she still wanted to work at the academy—

Her appearance was her greatest asset, but it also brought her a curse.

While it allowed her to navigate social situations with ease, it also objectified her into a commodity coveted by too many for her looks and body.

She yearned to remain independent, which was why she hoped to stay at the academy and support herself by teaching, rather than having to appease any Nobles at court.

Therefore, she was willing to set aside this trivial desire to express herself, heed her instructor's teachings, and uphold the academy's status.

Even if she couldn't help but think—

"If only I could be like the poet on that stone tablet, saying what I want to say and doing what I want to do, how wonderful that would be."

Geya, and indeed the melancholic poets present, couldn't help but fantasize again.

Speaking of that poet, her junior, Su Wen, suddenly slapped his forehead:

"Right, do you think new content will be engraved on the stone tablet today?"

"Since it's in a journal format, perhaps new content is produced daily?"

"I'm curious about what he'll write today. To tell you all a secret, I've been trying to compose music for his ballad since last night, but I can never capture the feeling of 'damn the landlord, damn the life.'"

The brown-haired poet who had vomited spoke with some excitement.

"Bruto, are you crazy? If the Dean finds out, you'll be expelled from the academy!"

"Hey, relax. Aren't it just us here? If we don't speak of it, how can the Dean hear? Or do you think Geya is a gossiping magpie?"

Bruto looked at Geya playfully.

As Ulasang's most proud student and temporary Assistant Instructor, her attitude was crucial:

"In fact, I also believe poets should have more freedom in their creative direction."

Actually, Geya herself didn't hold any firm stance.

She just knew what these people liked to hear.

If she were with a different group of more conservative poets, she would change her tune.

But her words did manage to put the poets present at ease:

"Geya, I believe you'll definitely become a full professor and lead the academy through a complete reform."

"May that day come sooner. I'm truly tired of writing all that sycophantic nonsense. Every day I spend in the academy only makes me feel bored… Look, even drinking feels dull now."

"Our lives are utterly uninteresting…"

"I have an idea!"

Su Wen slapped his forehead.

"Why don't we go take a look at the stone tablet again?"

"..."

The dormitory fell silent, making the cawing of the crows outside clearly audible.

Bruto gave a wry smile:

"What are you thinking? The Dean has sealed off the central garden area. No one can approach the stone tablet without his permission…

Wait, we still have Geya—"

"Sorry, I think I've had a bit too much to drink. Perhaps I should go back and rest."

Seeing that the topic was about to turn to her again, Geya quickly feigned drunkenness and shook her head.

Seriously!

She could use her status as the Dean's student to get through the sealed garden.

But that didn't mean she was willing to be used as a pawn!

Bruto was clearly targeting her. If she stayed any longer, she'd likely be forced into doing something she didn't want to do.

Realizing this, Geya bowed to her friends:

"I wish you all a pleasant evening."

"Senior Geya—" Su Wen tried to stop her, but found he couldn't even stand steadily.

When he fell to the ground, he looked up again, but Geya's silhouette was already gone.

"Bitch."

Bruto grunted, letting out a belch, "Isn't it just because she has a pretty face that she got the temporary assistant instructor position? She won't even help with a small favor like this..."

"Senior Bruto, that's going too far," Su Wen couldn't help but retort.

"Hey, Su Wen. Why don't you think about it, how could she, so young and not even graduated, become a temporary assistant instructor ahead of time? You know what her relationship is with our bald Dean, don't you?"

"Bruto!"

Seeing that he was getting more and more out of line, the other poets couldn't help but scold him, "You're drunk."

"No, I'm clearer than anyone! 'Temporary assistant instructor,' sounds nice! That position was probably already decided for her, just because she—urp!"

Bruto couldn't stomach the churning in his stomach and threw up on the bed again.

The others wanted to say something more, but found that he had closed his eyes and immediately fainted into the mess.

They exchanged glances and couldn't help but shake their heads:

"Junior Su Wen, Bruto is actually a good person.

It's just a shame he's a rival to Geya.

And jealousy has blinded his heart."

Su Wen didn't care about Bruto, only feeling fortunate that Senior Geya had left early and didn't have to hear the insults of this jealous man.

But what he didn't know was that Geya, who had already left, had actually anticipated being slandered.

Yet she understood that this was what she deserved.

"People are accustomed to assigning meaning to ugliness, accustomed to dragging beauty into the mud. As if doing so could showcase their benevolence and conceal their envy."

Her heart was like a mirror, so she didn't care too much about all of this.

However, as she walked through the academy's corridors and saw the Construct Guards, hired by the Dean to guard the stone tablet, standing motionless in the distance toward the garden.

The warm summer night breeze brushed against her cheeks, stirring a rebellious thought.

"My mentor ordered me to find this poet, and thus granted me special permission to approach the stone tablet.

So if I just observe it myself and don't spread it around, there shouldn't be any problem..."

She was not a person who followed the rules.

The moment this rebellious thought took root and sprouted in her heart, Geya had already taken her first step towards the garden—

"I just want to secretly see if this poet is just a flash in the pan."

"That's right, maybe the new story he wrote won't meet my expectations?"

"Then I won't always be thinking about him, fantasizing about becoming him..."

She continued to convince herself in her heart until she reached the two Construct Guards.

As magical creations, their ornate armor contained nothing but air, yet they retained a basic consciousness.

Upon realizing Geya's approach, they raised their greatswords, blocking her path.

Geya took out a medal from her pocket, bestowed by Ulasang, bearing the academy emblem of [Bard's Song]:

"My mentor Ulasang has permitted me passage through here."

The greatswords crossed in front of her moved aside, and the Construct Guards even turned their bodies, allowing Geya to pass through with ease.

When she stopped at the foot of the stone tablet and looked up at the starlight at the top, as expected, she discovered the second "star."

[Lost Era, Year 1000, June 8th, Star Plum Town, Sunny.

The day after being kicked out of the tavern, I encountered a kobold...]

At first, when she sensed that the owner of this log seemed to be recording the weakest subterranean creatures on the continent, Geya inevitably felt disappointed:

"As expected, a person's creative drive is limited. Even this poet inevitably uses these boring contents to record a daily account?"

[In fact, if it were just encountering a kobold, there would be nothing worth recording. It's not even worth the ink or paper to write it in a log.

I'd bet that creatures as unremarkable as these, similar to goblins, appearing in any article would be deemed filler by readers, a forced narrative.

But then again, it's an intelligent kobold that has autonomously learned Common and magic in a short period.

And there might be a Dragon behind it.

Then it's worth discussing.]

"Kobold? Dragon?"

Geya's gaze was involuntarily drawn further into the content—