The Shut-In Prince’s Splendid Social Debut — Me, a Villainous Imperial, Have Spent the Last Fifteen Years Fighting the “Wicked Thoughts” Eating Away at My Mind. When I Finally Returned to High Society, There Were Way Too Many People I Didn’t Recognize

Early in the morning, the time for departure finally arrived.

After fifteen years of hardship—and an ultra-short tutorial that lasted only three working days—the moment had finally come to face the scenario in earnest.

“Yoa”aa”n-samaaa! Ange is… Ange is lonelyyyy!”

Ange sniffled loudly as she cried. I gently patted her shoulders so my uniform would not end up soaked.

“Mother, that’s unseemly.”

“Uuh… Listen carefully, Serta. You must support Yoan-sama properly! Of course, you must also take care of your own health and avoid getting injured!”

“Yes, of course.”

Serta also finished her farewell with Ange.

“Then Yoan, make sure to return as a splendid Crown Prince.”

“Yes, I’m off, Mother.”

I exchanged a farewell hug with Mother as well. Surprisingly, it was a light one.

She had turned into a koala last night, so perhaps she had already satisfied her emotional needs.

In a sense, I was simply heading off to work. Since I could return anytime if necessary, it did not feel particularly sad.

Dressed in a brand-new uniform and wrapped in a mixture of nervousness and excitement, I departed.

Inside the carriage, I sat in my usual air chair.

The destination was—

Alfhein.

A small dungeon city located on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital, Kingshaven.

That was where the Hero Academy stood.

Incidentally, a “dungeon city” refers to a city that contains a dungeon.

However, dungeon cities vary widely in nature.

Some are high-quality dungeons like those in Margrave Grayash territory that enrich the surrounding lands. Others are malignant dungeons that produce little profit and are harmful simply by existing.

And Alfhein belonged firmly to the latter category.

An overwhelmingly malignant dungeon.

It produced few drops, housed vicious monsters, and was essentially a ridiculous dungeon.

You might wonder why anyone would build an academy for noble children in such a place.

There was quite a history behind it.

If malignant dungeons are left alone, they can trigger Stampedes.

So what did the emperor of that era think?

—”For now, let the nobles handle it.”

Thus he pushed the problem onto the nobles.

And what did the nobles think after receiving such an unreasonable burden?

—”For now, let the commoners handle it.”

So they pushed the problem onto the commoners.

And what happened next?

All of them died.

A Stampede occurred and turned into a massive disaster.

Commoners had lower level caps than nobles and lacked the strength to suppress malignant dungeons. Furthermore, strong commoners had no reason to obey nobles and preferred to work in profitable dungeons.

In other words, the plan failed miserably.

After that lesson, nobles were forced to manage malignant dungeons themselves.

Then one high-ranking noble proposed an idea.

—”That’s it. Let’s make the lower nobles handle it.”

Lower nobles were stronger than commoners and did not suffer from the same level limitations.

Unable to resist the order, the lower nobles reluctantly accepted the duty.

As a result, the malignant dungeon was suppressed and the upper nobles relaxed.

However, something unexpected happened.

The lower nobles suffered heavy casualties, but those who survived became extremely strong.

After gaining power, they turned their fangs toward the upper nobles to settle past grievances.

Gekokujo.

The lower ruling over the higher.

Malignant dungeons were dangerous and unprofitable, but they were the perfect environment for becoming strong.

Because of these events, the management of malignant dungeons became an extremely delicate matter.

Eventually, a certain muscle-brained noble proposed yet another idea.

—”That’s it. Why not turn malignant dungeons into training institutions for nobles?”

Surprisingly, that proposal was accepted as a revolutionary concept.

And thus—

Hero Academy was built in Alfhein.

Ironically, that meant even members of the royal family—including myself—were required to attend.

Hero Academy existed for the sake of noble interests.

In simple terms, my attendance could be compared to barging into a dojo and shouting “I beg admittance!”

The carriage rattled along the road.

Eventually, a massive wall surrounding the city came into view.

“Onii-sama, it’s finally time.”

“Yeah.”

Hero Academy.

Also known as the Survival Academy.

Put nicely, it was “a long-term training camp built to cultivate independence and self-reliance among nobles.”

Put bluntly, it was “a hellish prison designed to place humans under extreme conditions and awaken their survival instincts.”

We passed through the massive gate and entered the city.

A knight approached to check my identity.

“Your name?”

“Yoan Joachim Rodenze.”

The moment I gave my name, the knight looked slightly surprised and checked some documents.

Since Alfhein was managed by nobles, only people connected to the academy were allowed inside. Even the restaurants and cafes in the castle town were operated by academy personnel.

“Identity confirmed. Welcome to Hell.”

The knight smiled brightly as he said it.

In ERT, the word “Hell” was written but read as “Alfhein.”

That was probably the reference.

“That smile feels a bit suspicious.”

“Well, he’s probably one of Serbul’s subordinates.”

Come to think of it, I needed to share information with Serbul soon.

Even though he was a scoundrel, he remained the closest aide to the First Prince, so he likely had already arrived in Alfhein.

Soon the carriage stopped, and I stepped outside.

“Oh. So this is Hero Academy.”

At last, I had arrived.

The appearance matched exactly what I remembered from ERT.

The structure resembled a gigantic cathedral, and the entrance to the dungeon itself existed within the building.

“I have been waiting for you, Third Prince Yoan Highness. The Entrance Ceremony will begin shortly. Please follow me.”

The person who greeted me was a female mage corps member in her late twenties wearing glasses.

She was wrapped completely in a robe and appeared rather plain overall.

However, upon closer inspection, I immediately recognized her.

Those straight bangs were unmistakable.

(I see… already making a move, huh.)

Pretending not to notice anything, I followed her.

While doing so, I casually smeared Universal Glue across her face.

After checking her name, I thought—

(Just as I expected.)

“Yes, nice to meet you.”

Serta and I followed behind her.

There was a strange scent in the air.

It smelled like herbs that seemed to affect the mind.

“I heard Yoan-sama was shut in for fifteen years. Could you tell me what caused your change of heart?”

She suddenly asked an oddly personal question.

The smell intensified.

(She’s trying to make me inhale something.)

When I glanced at Serta, her eyes looked slightly unfocused.

Probably some kind of aphrodisiac or mind-affecting substance.

My resistance likely came from some status-related effect.

(What’s the goal…?)

This woman clearly wanted information.

Fine.

I would pretend to be affected.

“…I must become Crown Prince. Suddenly realized.”

“…Why now? Does it relate to attending the Military Minister’s Engagement Anniversary Party?”

“…Suddenly flashed. Me emperor. Love parties. Meat. Love more.”

“H-Hah? Are you joking?”

She frowned.

For some reason, I started enjoying myself.

“…Not joking. Me serious. Looking closer—you good woman. Tonight come to my room. I’ll love you.”

“Tsk! Enough! I was stupid to even ask.”

She sighed.

I heard the sound of a bottle lid closing, and the strange smell vanished.

Universal Glue detected no magic.

So it wasn’t magical.

“Hah…? Huh…?”

Serta regained consciousness and looked around in confusion.

I pretended to do the same.

(So she came to probe me.)

In any case, I was probably now registered as an idiot prince not worth investigating.

“This is the venue for the Entrance Ceremony.”

It resembled a chapel with a high ceiling.

Colored light streamed through stained glass windows on both sides.

Long benches were arranged in rows, already filled with students.

Various expressions appeared on their faces.

Anxiety.

Excitement.

Burning ambition.

I recognized some of them.

Some were characters who interacted with the protagonist in ERT.

Others were event characters, minor victims, or people who offended Yoan and got beheaded.

However, most were unfamiliar.

And there seemed to be far more people than expected.

Nearly a hundred students had already gathered.

In ERT, there were only enough students for one class.

Very few reacted to my arrival.

Since my only public appearance had been Serbul’s party, I wasn’t widely recognized.

“We seat students in order of arrival. If you wish, we can prepare a special seat.”

The woman glanced toward the front rows where several students clearly sat in privileged seats.

“No. This seat is fine. Hero Academy follows meritocracy, correct? Status shouldn’t matter.”

She looked slightly surprised.

She had probably expected me to complain.

But there was meaning behind my words.

The original Yoan had behaved completely differently.

This served as a declaration.

“…Understood.”

She stepped back.

(If she’s here, then she must be working under someone.)

Thinking that, I sat down.

Next to me sat a chubby freckled student.

“Hey there! Haven’t seen you before! I’m Charl Clayton! Son of the Clayton Trading Company in the west! My father has connections with the Silver Pact Market’s Grand Merchant Association. He’s even a quasi-baron!”

He spoke rapidly.

Clearly he assumed I was a lower noble.

“Oho? And the beautiful lady next to you—nice to meet you! I’m Charl Clayton! A man destined to become a viscount someday!”

Now he had turned his attention to Serta.

“…Yoan-sama, may I punch him once?”

“Now now, calm down.”

Serta’s fist trembled.

Charl continued digging his own grave.

“How about it, Serta-san? Rather than that scrawny guy beside you, why not talk with me? I have plenty of money, and after graduating I’ll definitely become a count!”

“Ah—can I interrupt?”

“…What is it, scrawny man?”

“I’m Yoan. Yoan Joachim Rodenze. Serta is my attendant.”

“Tsk…”

Charl froze.

“I-I’m terribly sor—!”

“No need to apologize. I was late introducing myself.”

He immediately shook my hand enthusiastically.

But the atmosphere became awkward.

Since he had talked so much, I had no choice but to reveal my name.

Even in a meritocratic academy, status still mattered.

Making friends here might be difficult.