Chapter 145
Chapter 145
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: Practical Exam (2)
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Konrad, the dean of Elpante’s Knight Faculty, was a knight from the former Imperial Guard and a renowned figure overseeing an entire faculty at one of the continent’s three great academies.
The number of people he would kneel to and show such respect toward was exceedingly rare, even across the entire continent.
“Elpante hasn’t changed a bit, has it, Sir Konrad? It feels exactly the same as when I was a student here.”
She was a young woman who looked less than half his age. Exaggerating a touch, she could almost pass for his daughter.
Yet Konrad was bowing his head to this woman who had uttered such words.
It was only natural for someone of her stature to summon him merely for an escort.
As if he wasn’t even permitted to raise his head.
“...If you had informed us in advance of your visit, we could have prepared something more fitting for reminiscing. What a shame, Your Excellency.”
“To hear a gentle rebuke about giving prior notice after coming all this way—it’s been a while since that’s happened, Sir Konrad.”
“That’s not what I—”
“I’m joking, joking. You don’t need to be so tense.”
A stiff reply emerged in a formal tone, and the woman before him, dressed in an elegant gown, smiled brightly.
Her skin was porcelain-white, cool to the gaze. Her golden eyes held a mystical aura dense enough to earn her the title of the “Empire’s Greatest Jewel.” And her every posture exuded refined grace.
Even each step she took overflowed with the polish of countless etiquette lessons and decorum.
“I’m just here for a casual visit today. If you’re too watchful, it’ll make me the uncomfortable one.”
Those words flowed out in a gentle voice, but Konrad scoffed inwardly.
*Yeah, right.*
For someone of her magnitude to make an appearance for such a trifling reason was absurd.
“Who wouldn’t tense up facing the Iron Lady?”
“A nostalgic nickname.”
His reverent honorifics carried that weight.
In contrast, those who trembled at her ruthlessness called her by slightly different names.
‘Iron-Blooded Chancellor.’
Or even.
‘Witch,’ some whispered.
Recalling such titles, Konrad let out a deep internal sigh.
Sullivan Axion Petronus.
Second to the emperor, above all others. The Chancellor overseeing the Empire’s state affairs.
The Iron Lady. The undefeated politician.
“Though I suppose I didn’t come entirely without purpose.”
Sullivan spoke those words as she glanced toward the open space beside the corridor.
Today marked the final day of Elpante’s end-of-term comprehensive evaluations: the practical exam, where the bulk of the points were awarded.
“I’m here to verify. His Majesty’s been throwing a tantrum lately about wanting to meet someone in particular.”
To any other ears, those words would warrant a noose for blasphemy.
Yet Sullivan uttered them casually, and even Konrad—though his expression tightened—couldn’t openly call her out on it.
Sullivan was the sort of person who could say such things.
She had risen from obscurity as the head of a remote baronial house—unknown even by name—to the Empire’s second-in-command in less than a decade.
Her age wasn’t far off from the students currently enrolled here, yet she stood at the Empire’s pinnacle.
Some even called her closer to the throne than the emperor himself.
The emperor merely occupied the seat, but most of the “authority” emanating from that throne stemmed from her hands.
The Inquisition—capable of wielding its influence across the Empire and the entire continent—was already moving like her limbs, symbolizing that fact.
In some ways, she could be seen as the Empire’s true ruler.
Rumors even circulated openly that she could dethrone the current princess on the throne if she merely crafted a pretext.
Why she hadn’t was a lingering mystery among politicians.
“The firstborn of the Campbell Baron family—”
Sullivan paused after those words.
“My apologies. The Campbell Viscount family now, isn’t it? I heard you confiscated Viscount Goldic’s territory recently.”
“...Even Your Excellency slips up from time to time, it seems.”
“Doesn’t it just? Calling him a baron has stuck in my mouth for so long.”
“...?”
It was an odd conversation.
Considering her position, a family like that should register as little more than an ant in terms of presence or importance.
What reason could there be for it to come up so frequently that the name lingered on her tongue?
He might understand if it were since the man enrolled in the academy—after all, he’d been a hot topic ever since.
But “for a long time” prior to that?
What on earth for?
“Anyway.”
As bewilderment crept into Konrad’s eyes, the chancellor covered her mouth and chuckled softly.
“For the Campbell viscount’s firstborn—”
She continued evenly.
“—I hold some special expectations.”
Reading between the lines.
It wasn’t an even statement at all: the Empire’s pinnacle fixated on a single student.
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“...It’s weirdly chaotic today, isn’t it?”
On the day of the practical exam.
The path to the exam grounds was swarming with guards so heavily armed it was almost intimidating—enough to make one utter “impregnable” without thinking.
Of course, Elpante’s nature meant it was always on high alert with the children of high officials and great nobles enrolled.
Even accounting for that, today’s atmosphere was far from ordinary.
It hadn’t been this intense even when the Saintess visited.
This was practically...
“...Did someone from the imperial family come?”
At that question, Feynol, walking beside him, gave a slight smile.
“Today’s the day Chancellor Excellency is visiting Elpante.”
“...The Chancellor?”
He frowned at the words.
The Empire’s Chancellor. Sullivan Axion Petronus.
The main antagonist appearing in Chapter 6, “The God-Eater.”
A figure with immense influence over Gideon’s death and the subsequent event where Elnor falls to the Gray Devil and ascends as the final boss.
He’d heard of the emperor visiting the academy personally, but never her.
“Well, the Inquisition tipped me off, so I knew. Hardly anyone in the academy’s staff would have been informed in advance.”
“...Pardon?”
A sudden visit like that explained why he hadn’t heard.
Given the chancellor’s stature, such an event required months of preparation on a massive scale.
“It was originally scheduled for His Majesty the Emperor to visit in person, but I hear she insisted on verifying the qualifications herself for anyone granted an audience.”
“...”
“It concerns you, Dawood Campbell.”
Listening to Feynol, a migraine throbbed.
*...Something’s tangled up again.*
Atalante had clearly nailed down that they had no interest in him before.
Now, she was bouncing even the emperor’s visit to come here herself.
And if the purpose was squarely on “him”...
It was natural to feel something was off.
*This is weird. Seriously.*
Frankly speaking.
The emperor taking an interest in him at this timing? He could buy that.
It could happen.
A power player like that fixating on him was a bit odd, sure.
But even if it was classified, he’d just been involved as a key figure in the tribal alliance matter regarding the great chieftain succession. That alone made direct contact from the emperor—praise or negotiation—plausible.
The chancellor jumping in ahead of that, though...
“...”
Something was up.
Something rolling behind the scenes that he didn’t know about.
*...Headache.*
Events derailing from the main scenario were popping up endlessly now, and he’d built tolerance for it.
He just hoped it wouldn’t get more complicated than this—a simple wish—
[System Message]
[ An event related to target ‘Elnor’ has been generated! ]
—that wasn’t going to happen.
[Gift-Related Character Alert]
♥ Elnor Erinarije la Tristan
[ Affection Stage 4 ]
[ Related Event in 2H ]
Hey, come on.
At least give me a full day. Now it’s down to hours?
“...”
Considering the timing, it meant Elnor would pull something during the practical exam.
Whatever it was, he’d have to prepare for that too.
“You look unwell.”
“...No, just... some stuff.”
“If you’ve got worries, I could solve most of them.”
“Pardon?”
“Looks can be deceiving, but I’ve got proxy inquisitor authority. Most problems? I can just crush them.”
Oh, right.
He’d gotten something like that before.
Recalling the window from his first meeting with her.
[System Log]
[ Made contact with target ‘Feynol.’ ]
[ Interaction with the ‘Inquisition’ unlocked! ]
[ Can request all privileges under ‘Inquisitor’ discretion! ]
The Inquisition’s authority for cooperation requests was a massive power. No wonder she said it confidently.
*...But that’s weird.*
He’d been too busy receiving it to judge properly.
If memory served, the Inquisition was essentially the chancellor’s arm in the setting.
Which meant her showing him friendliness...
*Why?*
No clue.
She wasn’t on good terms with the Tristan Ducal House, even superficially.
No way she’d view him, who interacted with them often, favorably.
“...Speaking of which, the Excellency doesn’t seem like a decent sort either.”
Lost in those thoughts, Feynol muttered.
“She’s over there in the corridor.”
Following her gesture, he spotted two figures walking a distant building’s hallway—far enough that identities were barely discernible.
One was Dean Konrad, the other...
“...That’s the Chancellor?”
“Pardon? Something off?”
Yes. Obviously.
Painfully so.
The feeling welled up instinctively.
No, her appearance matched his memory of the chancellor somewhat—recognizable as the game character.
But.
*...She’s young?*
By setting, at this point, she should be a middle-aged woman well into her forties.
But that figure now.
Young.
Too young.
Almost childlike.
As if, compared to others in the scenario, she alone hadn’t aged a day.
Staring at her with those thoughts.
Suddenly.
Her head snapped toward him.
As if, even at this distance, she’d sensed him “watching.”
“...!”
His heart dropped, and he involuntarily stepped back.
Could be coincidence, but the motion was too precise. That gaze unmistakably fixed on “him.”
*...What the hell.*
In the game, the chancellor was portrayed solely as a bureaucrat and schemer.
No superhuman senses or such feats anywhere.
As he thought that.
Her lips parted slightly.
Silently, shaping words as if whispering to him alone.
Sharing a secret meant only for the two of them.
“...Long time no see, Dawood Campbell.”
Those lips.
Clearly formed those words.
“...”
Her golden eyes, eerie enough to draw him in, lingered on him with those words for a long moment.
As if.
Truly gazing at someone she hadn’t seen in ages.
Like reuniting with someone met many times before.
Even carrying a hint of “missing you.”
Somehow, wistful.
“...Your Excellency?”
“Nothing at all, Sir Konrad. Shall we go?”
Dean Konrad, escorting her, spoke questioningly, and she finally looked away.
Watching her recede with quick steps.
A chilling premonition crawled up his spine.
“...”
Something was wrong.
Something was deeply amiss.
His honed instincts from countless life-or-death tightropes screamed it.
As if, in this exam.
Because of “that one,” something was about to explode.
That sensation.
“...Feynol.”
“Yes?”
“By chance, is the Chancellor observing this exam personally?”
“Likely, wouldn’t you say?”
This exam.
It clearly wouldn’t go smoothly.
Something was going to happen.
Definitely.
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