Unnoticed, it slips away like running water.**
During the magic-linguistics class, Anvis listened to the instructor's explanation, yet his thoughts drifted far beyond the classroom.
Ever since that tea party years ago, Marquis Kallen had summoned him to the study and handed him a list—A long, weighty list detailing numerous industries under the Kallen family's domain.
With a single, decisive wave of his hand, the marquis allowed him to choose any three to manage as he wished.
Kallen's original words were clear and uncompromising:
"Do it according to your own ideas. Don't fear failure. Our family does not lack a few industries."
Anvis had considered for only a moment before selecting a medium-sized trading company and two newly established civilian factories.
Of course, although they were "handed to him in full authority," in reality, Anvis only needed to control the major direction. The day-to-day operations were naturally handled by the people below him.
The two factories were newly built, and their production lines needed to be custom-ordered from the Travis Federation.
The very first decision Anvis made after taking over was simple yet drastic:
He canceled all of the original production lines, and replaced everything with starship component manufacturing lines.
When the marquis heard of Anvis's choice, he immediately had his eldest son, Termont, transfer part of the fleet's logistics rights to him.
...
"Lord Anvis, are you listening?"
Anvis's magic-language instructor was a Sixth-Tier Royal Scholar—a man appearing in his fifties, with greying temples, a rapidly receding hairline, and, regrettably, the tendency for it to recede even faster recently.
At that moment, he dispelled the floating magical characters in the air, frowned slightly, and looked at Anvis with mild displeasure.
"Of course, Mr. Dais."
Anvis hurriedly pulled his mind back and answered with complete composure.
"Good. Then— in Ancient Gutian, what meanings does the term Ka~ri~re represent?"
As Dais questioned him, a new line of glowing magical text surfaced in the air, shimmering faintly.
"It means 'to gnaw' or 'to erode,' sir. In the incantation of the Third-Tier spell Excavation, it appears in the third segment, second subsection."
"...Completely correct."
Mr. Dais looked utterly baffled. He was certain Anvis had been distracted, yet no matter what question he posed, Anvis always responded flawlessly.
Over time, he began doubting his own judgment.
"Perhaps… this is what true geniuses are like? He wasn't daydreaming—he was thinking?"
This was not only Dais's suspicion—Almost every instructor responsible for Anvis shared the same feeling.
Gradually, whenever the marquis inquired about his son's progress, the tutors praised him without reservation, describing Anvis as a true prodigy—Someone who could continue deeper contemplation even while listening to lectures.
At first, Anvis reacted with pure confusion.
Is that so? Then I must be a once-in-a-millennium genius!
Eventually, he accepted this "misunderstanding" with resignation.
As he grew older, Anvis's curriculum changed as well.
Linguistics advanced into magical linguistics, and the current language they studied was Ancient Gutian—A language inherited from the Primordial Empire, its very characters infused with magic, and the most widely used magical tongue among psykers.
His morning lessons now included music and art, etiquette hours were cut in half, and social training was added—Such as how to please a lady.
History branched into archaeology, with the total study time remaining unchanged.
In the afternoons, aside from spiritual-power training, two new subjects—Origin-era Runology and Magical Material Sciences—consumed a tremendous amount of Anvis's time.
(lol and bruh)