My Mentor Is Too Handsome

"Are we taking classes here?"

"This is the most comfortable spot in the palace."

"So elegant?"

Even I, a 16-year-old, know that the painting hanging on the wall is a world-famous masterpiece.

The ceiling is densely covered with carvings, and the columns are adorned with gold mosaics and tiles.

It's as if you've stepped into a kaleidoscope of dazzling beauty.

The room temperature was perfect, classical music was playing, and several vases held roses and lilies picked from the garden that morning. I sank deep into the antique claw-footed sofa.

"What is this school life..."

Even the dark history of concealing magic from human society sounded like a comforting lullaby when told in Adam's gentle voice.

(It's not as spicy as I thought... Enzyme Dormitory might be fun.)

I found the unfamiliar magic, hidden sorcery, and the laws of the human world far more fascinating and thrilling than physics, chemistry, mathematics, or even history and languages, which I have no interest in.

If you glance out the window, you'll see other freshmen in the courtyard, covered in mud and screaming, receiving harsh, Spartan training from their eccentric and strict upperclassmen.

"Who you get as your tutor is completely a matter of luck. I hate that kind of Spartan approach."

"Is the education during this period left to the individual methods of the second-year students?"

"That's right. Compatibility and chance encounters also have meaning."

Adam smiled and picked up a cookie.

"Okay, let's review. First, do you understand the meaning of what we learn in basic education?"

"you know…"

"The History and Differences Between White Magic and Black Magic"

"Yes! So, we only learn white magic here, right?"

His teaching style is smart and easy to understand. Apparently, he's the top student in his second year.

(Maybe... I'm really that lucky...!!)