Farmboy becomes King with the Lust System Chapter 267: Return from war

The morning sun descended upon the academy courtyard, a warm and radiant glow dispelling the lingering chill from the protracted war. Towering, grey academy walls captured the sunlight, casting elongated shadows across the stony pathways.

Avian calls echoed from the battlements overhead, and the subtle fragrance of spring blossoms mingled with the embers of the previous night’s fires, still softly smoldering in uncleared corners. The atmosphere vibrated with a new energy: excitement, pride, and sheer disbelief. News had evidently preceded their arrival, even before they reached the main gates.

Throngs of students occupied the paths leading to the grand hall, perched on railings, balanced on benches, and craning their necks for even a fleeting glimpse. Their hushed voices ebbed and flowed like the tide, a current of astonishment and intrigue that seemed to surge and recede around every individual navigating the throng.

Every movement was observed, heads swiveled, and even those feigning indifference found their gazes involuntarily drawn.

Jae moved through the center of the assembly, his traveling cloak draped casually over one shoulder, the sunlight igniting his blond hair with a golden sheen. His gait was relaxed and self-assured, devoid of haughtiness, as if he navigated the crowd without demanding notice, yet remained strikingly unignorable.

His companions followed closely, each exuding their distinct demeanor, their collective presence signifying them as a cohesive unit—a small band of survivors and warriors. Elise remained just behind him, her knuckles white around her satchel strap as if it offered an anchor, her serene gaze absorbing the multitude of curious and guarded looks.

Tirel exuded her characteristic confident swagger, a spark of fire in her eyes even in repose, and a subtle smirk graced her lips. Yuna trailed behind, a gentle smile gracing her features, her hands clasped behind her back as though meticulously measuring each step.

Fin engaged readily with those nearby, offering waves to familiar faces or jesting with younger students, while Byun maintained a position to Jae’s left, his grin sharp and easy, his eyes constantly scanning, assessing the reactions of the surrounding individuals.

The cacophony trailed them like an unfolding wave, rising, cresting, and inundating every recess of the courtyard.

"There he is," a voice whispered from an elevated bench.

"The farm-born mage," another voice chimed in, tinged with reverence.

"Did he truly defeat Lord Veynar?" a third inquired, disbelief wrestling with curiosity.

"They say he single-handedly annihilated an entire battalion!" exclaimed a younger cadet, their voice taut with excitement.

A mixture of awe and skepticism colored the various exclamations, yet all conveyed an undeniable fascination. Even the senior students, those who had previously scorned Jae or dismissed him as merely another boy from obscurity, found their attention captivated. Jae had transformed into something novel, something surpassing a mere student, far exceeding the expectations of those who once derided him.

He appeared unfazed. If anything, the attention seemed to amuse him. His lips curled into that familiar, languid grin as he cast a glance toward the gaping students. "It seems we missed the tranquil days," he murmured, his voice low yet resonant enough to reach those in his immediate vicinity.

Tirel let out a soft laugh, brushing her hair back with a swift motion of her hand. "Quiet? You? Please. You thrive on the commotion."

Byun snorted, the coin dancing between his fingers as he walked. "He just enjoys feigning otherwise."

Jae rolled his eyes, arching his arms behind his head in a casual stretch. "You talk too much," he remarked, though no genuine annoyance laced his tone.

Elise offered a faint smile from his side, her voice gentle yet teasing. "You don't fool anyone, Jae. You relish the attention."

"Do I?" he queried, glancing at her sideways, his eyes narrowing just enough to elicit a broader smile from her.

"Yes," she affirmed without hesitation. "You simply dislike admitting it."

He chuckled, emitting a mock sigh, the kind that suggested capitulation without yielding anything substantial. "Perhaps a little," he conceded, the words feeling lighter than the newfound mantle of fame that had settled upon him.

They proceeded through the courtyard’s grand gates, stone arches soaring overhead as sunlight streamed across the grounds. The crowd parted but did not cease its observation, forming a corridor of inquisitive eyes and hushed murmurs. Whispers overlapped, urgent and subdued, conveying both admiration and apprehension.

Cadets who had once held Jae in low regard now averted their gaze or bowed their heads as he passed. Some muttered under their breath, likening his commanding presence to whispered legends of dragons or tempests.

This transformation felt peculiar, even to those who knew him best, a silent testament to the power and renown he had attained, not through lineage but through sheer merit.

"This feels strange," Fin commented softly, his voice barely audible above the collective murmur of the crowd. "Before, they wouldn’t even glance our way."

"Now they can’t look away," Tirel declared with a smirk, tucking a fiery strand of hair behind her ear. "Fame fits us well, doesn't it?"

Elise, her expression pensive, merely shook her head. "It isn't fame. It's apprehension, a touch of it."

Byun let out a soft chuckle, a low sound that nonetheless drew attention. "Or perhaps both," he conceded. "Folks cherish heroes, right up until they recall heroes, too, can suffer grievous wounds."

Jae offered another smile, pushing a lock of hair from his brow. "Let them assume whatever they wish," he advised. His words lacked any hint of arrogance, conveying instead a serene acceptance of both the scrutiny and the condemnation they might face.

Their ascent began upon the broad, stone steps leading toward the academy's magnificent hall. These stairs, polished to a sheen by countless generations of students, bore the rounded edges of steps worn smooth by the passage of thousands of cadets. The rhythmic echo of their boots marked their progress, a steady beat against the backdrop of hushed conversations.

Cresting the steps and bathed in the full morning sun, Sun awaited them. He was clad in his customary dark uniform, his cloak draped casually, his demeanor inscrutable. His stance was impeccable, shoulders set, gaze unwavering – a figure sculpted by rigorous discipline and innate authority.

The surrounding nobles, scions of ancient houses who had once scorned Jae, conversed in hushed tones. Their gazes darted repeatedly between the two men, as if meticulously measuring their strength, their heritage, and the renown earned from the recent conflict.