If he were any other villager, he might have been tempted.
The luxury, the status, the food, the praise... all of it would’ve been a dream come true.
But he wasn’t any other villager.
He had lived countless lives, seen far more grandeur than what these spoiled nobles could even imagine.
There was no way he was going to move into the dorms permanently just to please their delicate pride.
He would rather spend his time back in the village with Claire and Nora, and of course... Sophie.
Just the thought of his Nora’s warm throat wrapped around his cock or Claire’s huge breasts bouncing in front of him made him feel more life than anything the academy had to offer.
Just thinking of them brought a small, perverted smirk to his lips.
Stella’s brow twitched sharply, her faintly forced composure finally cracking as she straightened in her seat, her voice rising slightly.
"Noble or not..." she said, her tone cold and authoritative, "you’ll abide by the elite badge."
The moment those words left her lips, the room fell silent again.
Damien’s gaze flicked toward her slowly, his smirk deepening. There was a teasing light in his eyes when he finally replied.
"No..." he said simply. "I won’t."
It was a calm response—no anger, no arrogance—but it carried a weight that hit like a hammer.
The entire room stirred at once.
"How dare—!"
"Does he think he can just—!"
"Unbelievable!"
The noise was building into a storm until—
A soft, feminine voice broke through it.
"I... I think he’s right."
The uproar died immediately.
Every gaze in the room—Damien’s included—snapped toward the speaker.
It was a girl with long, silky purple hair that reached down to her waist, her black eyes calm yet shining faintly.
Her presence alone was enough to draw attention, but right now, it was her words that had the room frozen.
Despite the stares boring into her, she merely smiled lightly, completely unfazed.
Then she turned back toward Damien, a faint rose shade rising to her cheeks as she continued softly.
"If he doesn’t want to be in the dorms all through the day," she said, her voice stammering slightly toward the end, "then let him do as he p-pleases..."
The way her gaze lingered on Damien for a few seconds longer than it should’ve didn’t go unnoticed either.
Damien smiled faintly in return, a simple, calm smile—but to her, it was enough to make her face flush an even deeper shade of red.
She quickly turned her head away, pretending to focus on the table, but the redness creeping down her neck betrayed her.
Around the table, several of the nobles were visibly annoyed by her words, while others looked confused, unsure how to react.
Stella’s veins were visibly bulging on her forehead now, her entire composure trembling on the edge of collapse.
Her blue eyes darted between the two of them—between Damien’s relaxed expression and the purple-haired girl’s shy demeanor—and something almost like jealousy flashed across her face before she quickly masked it.
"F-fine..." she said finally, her voice a little higher than usual. "Whatever..."
Her tone had lost its usual edge.
"But," she added quickly, trying to reclaim her authority, "you must always be in your uniform. That’s the rule."
Damien didn’t argue. He only gave her a faint, polite nod, that same slight smile still playing on his lips.
Stella froze for a moment, her eyes widening slightly as she caught the look in his eyes and quickly turned her head away again, pretending to arrange the papers in front of her.
"Th-then... this meeting is dismissed," she said finally, her voice meeker than before.
The nobles exchanged subtle looks among themselves, clearly unsettled by how the meeting had turned out, but none dared speak up again.
Damien stood up casually, his chair sliding back with a soft scrape.
He could feel the eyes of the elites burning holes into his back as he turned toward the door.
He didn’t look at any of them—not even Stella.
He simply pushed the door open and walked out.
Behind him, Tart’s jaw clenched hard. Stanley’s fists were trembling under the table.
And the purple-haired girl... quietly bit her lip, her gaze lingering on the door long after Damien was gone.
The rest of the day’s classes proceeded smoothly.
Damien didn’t encounter any more trouble—at least not yet—and within a few hours, it was already afternoon.
He was currently walking through the wide front courtyard, hands in his pockets.
Students still turned to stare as he passed by, their whispers following him like shadows.
But Damien ignored them all, his gaze fixed on the large academy gate.
Even after all the scolding from Stella and the other elites, he still hadn’t bothered to put on the elite uniform.
The black and gold outfit was stored away in his inventory.
"Time to go home..." he muttered, the corner of his lips curling up.
Then, with a faint chuckle, he added quietly—
"Hehe."
He then boarded a carriage heading back to his village.
Though the price was quite expensive, especially since there weren’t much people going from the academy to the village, it didn’t bother him.
The journey took about twice longer than he did when he used the carriage provided by the knights, but eventually, he arrived at the village.
He made sure the driver dropped him off in a remote area of the village, so he wouldn’t attract too much attention upon his arrival.
’Time to pay someone a surprise visit.’ he thought, chucking inwardly as he dashed to the side.
Within minutes, he arrived in front of a familiar butcher’s shop and made his way in.
Sophie was busy chopping the meat on the table, when she suddenly heard the sound of the door opening.
Her eyes widened, and her gaze moved to the side, only to see Damien standing at the entrance, staring at her with a slight smirk on his face.
"Missed me... boss?" he muttered, moving closer to her.