Chapter 150
Chapter 150
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.37 – The Knight Came to Hate the Banquet (4)
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“I wonder if he’s already had lunch?”
Ding-a-ling.
A rickety bicycle bell jingled pathetically as the bike sped along.
Levi pedaled furiously again today.
The familiar road she took by bike every day lately.
For some reason, even the old bumpy stretches had been smoothed out, letting the wheels roll nice and easy.
Clunk.
A hefty lunchbox sat in the basket of her bike.
Stuffed to the brim with homemade goodies. She’d picked up a few tricks from Tristan’s head chef, so it shouldn’t taste half bad.
“He’s gotta like it…”
All this effort for one person.
But if he just took it happily, her hard work would be more than worth it.
Especially since the guy she knew would never call it bad after all this trouble.
If anything, he’d savor it more than anyone.
“Hmm…”
The thought brought a faint blush to Levi’s cheeks. She pushed the pedals harder.
Her youthful looks hid a body toughened by daily training—no slacking, ever. Holding thirty kilometers an hour for a full hour barely winded her.
A girl in love was unstoppable.
After pedaling a good while, a familiar cabin appeared in the distance.
The sight lit up Levi’s face with a huge grin. She poured on the speed.
As if she’d been holding back until now just for this.
But.
“...Huh?”
Levi blinked.
She spotted a man sprawled out about three meters shy of the cabin.
A familiar outline. Levi hit the brakes and hurried over.
“I-Instructor Damian Pollet?”
“...”
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
“...Ugh.”
“...A-are you crying?”
“...Why’s my life the only one this rough? Why am I the only one getting kicked around like this? Sob...”
“...Hmm.”
...Ah, same as always.
By now it was a familiar scene. Levi nodded to herself.
‘Master’s giving Instructor another [lesson].’
Her instructor’s thing with Damian Pollet was infamous at the academy.
A guy running drills or buried in paperwork nonstop every single day? Rumors spread whether he wanted them or not.
Figuring out what went down was easy.
So.
‘...Lucky guy.’
Levi envied him.
Getting ‘private tutoring’ from Master like that.
Damian would’ve lost his mind if he knew her thoughts, but it wasn’t just jealousy over hogging his time.
Sure, it looked like pointless abuse, but Damian Pollet was growing—for real.
‘He’s gotten stronger again.’
Damian had always ranked high among swordsmanship cadets.
Scion of a famed knight house, trained to match the hype—better than most cadets, hands down.
This year was freakish with all the genius outliers, but normally? Damian could’ve been top dog.
Now, rolling under Master’s boot, his growth shot straight up.
Keep it up, and he might not catch the black-haired young master, but one of that trio? Maybe.
‘People get strong in crises. Instructor Damian’s living proof?’
Growing tough to survive the threat named Master.
To Levi, desperate to power-level ASAP, it was pure envy.
...Even if it felt like hell to him.
“...What’re you doing here?”
“Ah, Master!”
“Bear cub, what’s your deal?”
“Ah, I-I was gonna share lunch, if you hadn’t eaten yet…”
“...Say I already ate after you hauled all that? I’d look like the bad guy.”
“Hehe.”
“Ridiculous... Lucky for you, I haven’t. Was gonna fire up the oven for pizza. Let’s eat yours with it.”
“Yay! Ah, but Instructor Damian…”
“Ignore him. Drama queen. Won’t listen lately.”
Master’s line—“No lunch if you skip”—had Damian grumbling “That’s harsh, really…” as he dragged himself up. The whole farce had Levi giggling before she knew it.
“Hehe.”
She beamed innocently.
Instructor No. 1’s back-and-forth haul of documents now cluttered Lee Han’s table, but he just flipped through them casually. Lunch had his full attention.
Oven-fresh pizza with gooey cheese strings. Rice-grain pasta from Levi. He shoveled it down steadily.
“That’s too much. How’d you even lug that here…”
“Whatever. This all?”
“...That’s everything for now. Oh, and Guild Master Simon said to tell you, ‘This should earn the guild some goodwill, right?’”
“What a clown.”
“...You’re the only one who’d say that to Guild Master Simon, Instructor.”
Running the capital’s guild syndicate like an errand boy? Wild.
And the guild master jumping at orders? No slouch there.
‘Birds of a feather?’
“Guy talks big, delivers meh. This pitiful stack? And wants favors? Gutless.”
“Hmm…”
...Or maybe just scared of a beating.
Damian’s little hunch. Sympathizing with the guild master mid-bite, he noticed: food focus was a front. Papers got the full scan.
He’d seen it before—Instructor double-checking docs with scary precision.
‘Insane focus.’
Paper-hater showing monk-level concentration.
Eyes like he was dueling the pages.
‘Battles everything like a fight. That the secret?’
Thwack.
“Not dead yet.”
“?”
“Not you. Chow down. Basil and fruit trees by EOD—you know.”
“...Instructor, I’m staff, not labor? How in one day?!”
“Said solo? Intern’s there. Grind her.”
“Ah!”
...Genius, maybe.
Damian gawked, awed. Reason numb? Or thrilled for legal intern-beating excuse?
Endless torment tricks unlocked.
Big lesson for Damian.
Instructor No. 1 picking up bad habits? Lee Han didn’t care. He mulled the intel.
‘Name: Greg Bin. Imperial mage corps. Fled south after illegal magic tower experiments. Active in Britannia pre-war, listed executed.’
But…
‘Corpse likely cellmate. Face-skin swap magic specialty. Swapped to survive—probable.’
Face skins interchangeable.
Human mask master. Lee Han pegged survival odds high.
Digging experiments…
‘[Mystery] transplant method.’
Rip Mystery from others. Graft to self.
Donor dies. Mystery preserved forever. Military boon. Royal prestige boost. —Greg Bin’s spellcaster pitch.
“...Scum worse than trash.”
Lee Han scoffed at the logic.
Peak spellcaster.
Pretty words, rotten core.
‘Jealous of talent? Steal it. Black path, blood cult vibes.’
Wuxia trope: kidnap meridian freaks, suck powers dry.
Kill for gains?
‘Lower than bloodsucking beasts—’
If Greg appeared? Dead man. Eyes flashed.
“Imperial…”
Ex-[Imperial Magic Tower]. Key detail.
Magic Tower.
Mages’ ivory spire, central continent only?
‘Horseshit.’
Fancy label for spellcaster hive.
To Lee Han? Infested termite mound. Nauseating.
Tower itself suspect.
‘Knew the experiments, let him bolt? …How’s that outfit even exist?’
……Ah.
‘White cats.’
White Silver Lions parallel. Almost bought the incompetence—but suspicion stuck.
Itch to raid the tower now. Central continent trek though…
“Hold up. Why go myself?”
Vague memory: tower rep inbound.
...Reason why—
“Instructor~!!”
“……”
“Hehe.”
“...Neighbor chick’s pulling weight.”
‘Here for her’?
Afternoon riser chick fluttered in sunny. Sparked a plan.
Specifically.
“Bear cub.”
“Yes, Master?”
“Curious: Kidnapping a magic tower spellcaster—crime?”
“……Huh?”
Righteous heist. Er, snatch here?
“Personal Qs.”
“Uh… J-just ask? Skip the kidnapping…”
“Nah.”
“?”
“Spellcasters don’t spill easy.”
“……”
...Obvious truth. Disciple’s doubtful pout? Heartstrings tugged.
Such a pure soul.
World-green.
“You’re green on street smarts. Missing basics.”
“...Am I off?”
“Nah. Just learnin’ curve.”
Spellcaster handling 101.
“Time to teach.”
“...??”
New disciple material. Smug grin.
And.
‘Hands-on beats lectures.’
No talk—body lesson. Lee Han approved.