TPTM 21

TPTM

Posted by Joseph, Released on May 26, 2026

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Chapter 21

“Miss Tullia?”

“Hm?”

I lifted my head from my thoughts. Adel had appeared out of nowhere with a warm cup of grain tea.

“Drink a little before you go.”

“Thanks… really.”

It was a habitual thank-you, but somehow, when Adel did this, I felt a little awkward. The warmth of the tea seemed to seep all the way into my stomach.

The study hall where I was about to take my exam looked like a Greek temple.

‘Wait, isn’t this fancier than my own room?’

The entire room—from floor to ceiling—was covered in cream-colored marble. When the chandelier light spilled across it, it felt as elegant as strolling under a starry night sky.

There weren’t any extravagant touches, like gems set into the pillars, but that made the room feel quietly luxurious. It was like seeing the ultimate version of an ancient Greek academy in real life.

Even though it was marble, the warm tones made the room feel bright and inviting.

And in the center of it all stood a strikingly handsome man with a cold, sharp aura.

‘Wow… that’s Schuls Schmidt.’

“I am Schuls Schmidt, Miss Tullia,” he said.

Even without checking his profile, I knew who he was.

Despite being a supporting character, he had gained quite a bit of popularity in The Bread Chronicles.

Why? There was only one reason.

‘He’s handsome.’

Beauty is subjective, of course, but Schuls Schmidt was the kind of intellectual, cold beauty that could captivate anyone who liked that type.

‘And he’s essential for me to see the Crown Prince.’

Whether in real life or in a game, the more someone is needed, the better you have to present yourself.

“Hello, Teacher,” I said, holding my skirt and bowing politely.

It was a greeting a lady might give to someone of equal or higher status—probably a bit too formal for Schuls Schmidt.

“Miss Tullia,” he replied, coldly refusing my greeting.

“I am merely a scholar of the White Tower, honored with the title of Pneuma. By the imperial ranking, it corresponds to a baron, so your greeting is more than I deserve.”

“But as far as I know, even daughters of dukes show respect to Pneuma scholars,” I countered.

Any noble in the Empire would know that. I even remembered it from my own knowledge.

“That may be true,” he said firmly, “but the Frezia Archduke family is different.”

‘Yes, I know that well.’

The White Tower. A vast intellectual collective of scholars in the Empire.

Noble families wanted these scholars to educate their children, but the proud and haughty scholars of the White Tower were in short supply.

Where there was demand, there was supply: families of baron rank and above would invite White Tower scholars for a few seasons to teach their children.

Smaller or less influential families pooled resources to hire a scholar collectively—a sort of teacher-sharing system.

Scholars of the White Tower were called “Pneuma” and commanded great respect.

Even the imperial family tried to maintain ties with them. Yet, there was exactly one noble house they had a terrible relationship with:

‘Right… the Frezia Archduke family.’

Due to some conflict between Archduke Asis Frezia and the head of the White Tower, my grandfather and only Tedric were the only grandchildren present in the Frezia domain.

‘They’re all off at the academy.’

Despite their bad relationship, the presence of a Pneuma scholar here showed the Frezia family’s influence and resolve.

‘In most endings, he becomes Corico’s ally…’

I stared at the cold, brilliant young scholar who was supposedly the youngest genius among the White Tower’s Pneuma.

“If you really dislike it, we can speak casually,” I offered.

“Very well,” he said, “but only outside the classroom.”

Schuls Schmidt looked at me as if he’d never expected such an offer. Not admiration, just curiosity—like someone seeing a rainbow-colored rooster for the first time.

But then he relented.

“Agreed. Let’s settle it that way.”

One trait of Schuls Schmidt in The Bread Chronicles: he despised nobles who abused their rank.

“Please take a seat. You will be taking the exam, Miss Tullia.”

His voice had slightly less frost in it now.

“I’ll sit here,” I said, receiving the exam paper.

Second trait: he genuinely liked smart students, without prejudice.

‘An exam is nothing.’

Adel had worried about me taking this test and even got me access to the library. I had studied just in case, but…

‘No need at all.’

The moment I looked at the paper, my hunch was confirmed.

‘I know every single question.’

Of course I did. I’d played The Bread Chronicles hundreds, maybe thousands, of times.

Corico, positioned as the “beloved girl,” had entered the Frezia household as a future bride of the Archduke, but still gradually claimed the position of granddaughter. She was allowed to take exams meant for the direct line, despite not being Frezia by blood.

I had solved nearly every problem in advance—it was necessary early in the game.

“The exam consists of seven subjects. Scores will be immediately tallied and reported,” Schuls Schmidt said. I confidently picked up my fountain pen.

‘Answer for Q1 is 2.’

Then it happened. The pen hovered over 2, then shifted to 3.

At first, I thought it was my own hand slipping.

Anyone would think the same on the first mistake.

But then it happened again and again.

‘No… it can’t be.’

At the same time, the little yellow star that always followed me bounced lightly, as if reading my thoughts.

And a familiar warning appeared:

(!Warning: You cannot select the desired answer due to a skill penalty.)
(!Warning: Your surrounding NPCs’ affection will drastically drop.)

‘Ah!’

The “surrounding NPC” was none other than Schuls Schmidt, the cold, handsome teacher watching my exam.

In The Bread Chronicles, the first question was always easy enough for a commoner who just learned to write. Getting it wrong was a surefire way to tank your character’s likeability.

I screamed inwardly.

‘How can a skill penalty be applied like this?!’

I frantically opened my status window.

[Status Window]
Tullia Frezia (15 years old)