Did These Damn Rofan Heroines Only Learn How to Escape from Books? 008
She'd posed a simple problem in the classroom. It was a test of how perfectly they'd memorized undergraduate-level mana calculation formulas—a product of rote education. In equation terms, it was asking for "A + B = C."
A normal student would've just added A and B as per the textbook to arrive at C. But Kasian del Parne's answer was different. He'd rejected the very concepts of "A" and "B." To use a metaphor, instead of assembling blocks, he'd melted them down into raw plastic, then reshaped them into something entirely new.
He'd broken "A" into tiny elemental components like "a1, a2, a3…," dismantled "B" the same way, mixed the fragments however he pleased, and "discovered" C in the process.
"Inefficient. So incredibly inefficient, such a waste. And yet…."
Iris von Evergarden leaned in until her nose nearly touched the chalkboard.
"Beautiful."
The calculation speed was slow, but the insight woven into the process was downright chilling. This wasn't solved by rote memorization. This is the kind of answer you get only after delving into the principles of the world, gnawing at the roots of mana, savoring and reveling in it.
Like a child plucking an innocent wildflower out of sheer curiosity, the solution brimmed with pure wonder and madness toward the unknown.
After wrestling with the board for a while, Iris suddenly threw her head back.
"Ha!"
A hollow laugh escaped—half scoff, half ecstasy.
"Insane… You solved it like this? In that short time?"
Her red eyes gleamed fiercely. And in that moment, a powerful sense of déjà vu flashed through her mind.
This inefficient, madcap approach that others would point at and call crazy—but pierced straight to the essence. She'd seen it somewhere before.
"…This is what I used to do as a kid?"
Fragments of memory surfaced. Her genius childhood, too brilliant for friends. Alone in the corner of an empty room, floating mana in the air, disassembling and reassembling it while giggling to herself. Even her master could only grasp it theoretically, never join in.
I never imagined anyone else could—or would want to—do this besides me….
A shiver ran through her. Iris traced the chalkboard writing with trembling fingertips.
Was this what it felt like to touch your reflection in the mirror? After twenty brutal years of solitude, she'd found a kindred spirit—perhaps even a superior mind. Euphoria spread to every corner of her body.
"Ha, haha…."
Laughter leaked from her lips. Now it all made sense—Kasian's behavior.
Dozing off in class? Obviously. Teaching basic A + B crap must've bored him to insanity.
Sloppy attire? With a mind unbound by convention, who cared about clothes?
Sassing her back? Geniuses were arrogant by nature!
Every puzzle piece clicked into place.
"Kasian del Parne…."
She rolled his name on her tongue like candy. She glanced around her lab. No matter how revered Iris von Evergarden was as a genius, here she was just a junior professor. Her personal lab was stuck in a noisy stairwell area, frequented by nosy colleagues.
But this place? Her master's gift: Lab Zero. A sanctuary no one dared barge into, perfect for uninterrupted research. She'd never dreamed anyone else would ever qualify to enter in her lifetime.
"Way too curious for your own good?"
Greed glistened in her red eyes. Labels like "barbarian" or "starving second son" were trash. He was the perfect specimen to lock in her lonely lab, debate magic through the night, and unearth the world's hidden underbelly together.
Iris pushed up her glasses and circled the formula on the board with a thick red marker.
Screeech! The chalkboard screamed like a banshee.
"Hm."
She smiled, utterly delighted.
*
I leaned back comfortably against the bench. Squirrel and rabbit on my left, munching jerky with crunchy bites. On my right, the saintess puffing her cheeks as she chewed. Sparrow chirping on my shoulder. Right here on this bench, with the faint whiff of the incinerator.
I'd unwittingly stumbled into forced healing time.
"It's delicious…."
"Of course. I made it myself. Can't compare to cheap market stuff."
"You made it yourself? You cook too?"
"Self-sufficiency's basic in the countryside. Potato pancakes every day, dried sweet potatoes, roasted corn."
"Potato… pancakes?"
Lily's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"…Why do you get interested when I said it to warn you off us country bumpkins?"
She made that perfect "deeng" kicked-puppy face.
"…Not interested."
"Good. Here."
Sure enough, she snatched more jerky.
"Um, Kasian-nim."
"Drop the 'nim.' Call me casual. We're classmates."
"Then… Kasian-student?"
"Whatever. Better than barbarian."
Lily smiled shyly. Gone was the wary ice from our first meeting; now she was just a girl enjoying a simple life moment.
This was dangerous. My rational side blared warnings not to get too close, but it was already too late.
"Um, if it's not too rude, but…."
Then don't say it.
"Let's not be rude to each other."
"Ah…."
Lily deflated again. If she had animal ears, they'd flop too. Guilt attack, double tap.
But not this time. I firmly turned away, brushed off my butt, and stood.
"Ate well? Time to go our separate ways. Bell's gonna ring if we linger."
"Ah, yes…."
"See ya."
I turned coolly and started walking. Just as I rounded the corner—
Thud crash!
"Ugh."
"Hmph…!"
What was that stern grunt? I collided head-on with someone. Their books and parchment stack flew into the air and scattered on the ground.
"Sorry—"
Apologizing as I looked up, I froze. A familiar face. Unpleasantly sharp features.
"…No harm done. My fault for not watching where I—"
His words cut off. Suspicion flooded his eyes.
Cold, thick voice. Piercing gaze. Heir to the Vellbius marquisate, Crown Prince's right-hand man. And in the original story, the sub-male lead pining for Elisia von Rosenberg.
Hector.
"…."
"…."
His eyes narrowed. He stared at my face, glanced at my pants, then openly grimaced in disgust.
"You're… Parne's Kasian."
This guy's acting like he recognized me from the pants.
Why was today such a shitshow? Mountain after mountain—shook off the saintess, now sub-male lead rolls in.
I swallowed a deep internal sigh and shrugged nonchalantly. Duty calls.
"So what if I'm Parne's Kasian?"
"What?"
"Whether I'm Parne's barbarian, Kasian, or second son, does that un-fuck your mistake? This was mutual fault."
Ditched the polite speech for casual. He started it. Only I trash my family. But the contempt when he said "Parne" was crystal clear.
Hector's face flushed beet red.
Ah. I really was a mad bastard. Couldn't just bow and say "sorry, milord." Why was that so hard? Keep this up at the academy, and I'd cause a huge incident. His face looked half-roasted already.
Then—
"That's enough, Hector."
A deep voice and a golden head appeared. This empire's Crown Prince, Louis de Leopold.
Why the hell are these guys at the incinerator….
Ah. Fuck. That's why Lily was dangerous.
*
Was this what a sinking heart felt like? Just around the corner was our hidey-hole bench. Squirrel, rabbit, and saintess Lily should still be snacking cozily.
But the Crown Prince had marched here? Obvious reason. Sniffing her scent like a hog.
If they spot her?
Worst-case scenario played in 4K in my head.
Daring a secret tryst with my woman? Fine, let's see if you end this life intact. What? Grew potatoes? I'll burn your precious fields to ash—nice and vivid!
"…."
Chill down my spine. I couldn't bear seeing my potato patch in ruins.
…Fucked. Gotta make a clean escape.
I switched modes instantly. Stiffly bowed my neck—practically a dogeza in spirit, but my rebel ass wouldn't allow it.
Then, loud enough for Lily hiding by the corner to hear clearly, I bellowed:
"Your Highness! This lowly Kasian del Parne committed grave disrespect by brawling before you. I sincerely apologize!"
Volume carrying far. One goal: Hear that, Lily? Bail while you can. Now's your chance. Please.
Effect immediate. Random artillery hit the scene.
"…!"
Hector's brow twitched violently. Face turned ripe beet.
Situation got weird. Unintentionally, I'd become the loyal noble admitting fault and apologizing before his lord. Hector was now the petty hothead getting the apology in front of his prince.
"Wh-what…."
Hector flapped his mouth in panic. Louis raised a brow in surprise.
"Hm. I graciously accept your loyal apology."
"Thank you!"
I boomed louder, head still bowed. Heard it? Go already. Hurry!
Then—from behind me, beyond the corner bushes.
…Rustle!
Sound of snapping twigs, clear as day—even from ten miles away.
…Ah, come on.
Doing it on purpose? Escape quietly! Got tambourines on your feet? Why make sound effects?!
These damn rofan heroines only learned escaping from books.
Every critical moment, that blatantly un-subtle "I'm right here~" advertisement. Blood pressure rising.
"…Hm?"
Louis's head snapped toward the noise. Sharp red eyes scanned the bushes.
"Heard something just now."
"…."
"Anyone else around here?"
My heart nearly burst.
Fuck, just announce you're hunting the saintess. Is this guy sane?
Cheating on his fiancée, scouring campus for his side chick. No wonder Elisia goes dark and dances with knives.
But why drag me and my plot into it?
"As you know, my image is the starving barbarian. Social laughingstock, so I hid here where no one's around."
My prepared loner alibi for this moment.
Louis stared, then nodded like it clicked.
"True. This place is…."
He trailed off, frowning. Pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket and elegantly covered nose and mouth.
"…A bit too foul for polite company."
His gaze flicked to me, then the incinerator behind—disgust plain before he looked away.
What? Smell bad?
From me? Or just the incinerator? It was just char smell near the burner, not overpowering stench.
Royal nose can't handle soot? So delicate….
Actually a relief. His sensitive sniffer would make him wanna bolt.
"Sorry for the interruption, then. Parne's second son."
What was that fused "starving barbarian second son" title? Predictably, Hector snickered.
Smash? This fucker for real.
But my tongue said the opposite.
"No, Your Highness. An honor."
"Good. Carry on. Hector, let's go."
Louis turned sharply, no lingering. Handkerchief over nose, speed rivaled dodging Monday dawn Hongdae street trash.
"…Yes, Your Highness."
Hector glared once more, then followed without a word. His eyes screamed classic villain: "You'll pay later."
You threw first punch, asshole.
I held my breath stock-still until their footsteps vanished around the corner.
Finally, their presence faded completely.
"Hoo…."
Pent-up breath exploded out. Legs buckled; nearly collapsed.
"Survived…."
Seoul life was brutal. Less scary facing a bear while farming potatoes. Bear hit? One-shot to heaven. Marked by that guy? No mercy.
"Ugh. What a day."
That heroine—I'd smack her. She'd probably panic back there, "His Highness is gone," offer some dumb "sorry, take this as apology" if I spoke. Ignoring my clear "get lost" vibe.
That's apology? Gaslighting.
Sigh. Whatever.
Don't wanna see her face. Ghost without a word.
I slipped away from the incinerator lot for good.