Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Conflict (2)
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Even if I didn't want it to, time marched on relentlessly. And among the truths I had no desire to confront, one had inevitably arrived: the day of the written exam was finally here for me.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Amid the only sound echoing through the room—the steady rhythm of the second hand—I gripped my quill so tightly it might snap, my arm trembling uncontrollably.
'I don't know a damn thing.'
I knew nothing. All I could tell was that the white stuff was paper and the black marks were letters.
I tried plugging in whatever half-baked knowledge I had to solve the problems somehow, but it wasn't working.
Theory had always been my weak spot from the start. Just as there are mages who reach lofty heights relying solely on intuition without grasping the formulas, I was one of those rare oddballs.
I had no trouble wielding holy spells, and there were no flaws in their power or structure.
So why the hell did I need to study theory? It was a bit childish, but I was confident I could take down most things without racking my brain.
"Hoo..."
In the end, I let out a deep sigh, marked every multiple-choice question with option 3—the only ones with any wiggle room—and pulled my hand away from the exam paper and pen.
A quick glance at the clock showed about twenty minutes left until the exam ended.
Seeing everyone else busily scribbling away, this stifling fog was probably mine alone.
At this point, anyone closing their exam booklet fell into one of two categories: those like me who'd checked out early, or those who'd blazed through every question in record time.
And as far as I knew, even Lete, the most knowledgeable about theory, couldn't have finished already.
In fact, up there ahead... She sat at a good distance from me, her posture impeccable as she moved her pen with unwavering focus. Her expression remained dead serious throughout.
She'd probably take first place in the written exam again, but for now, she was deep in concentration.
Worried she might notice my gaze, I turned away with a guilty smack of my lips.
The weather was gloriously clear, the sun shining brilliantly against the pale blue sky.
Failing this exam wouldn't shake my position much anyway. It was just the written part, weighted far less than the practical.
As long as I didn't flunk—and there was no way I'd score that low—it'd be fine.
I'd just feel a bit sour about it.
So before dwelling on the exam results, I had no choice but to grapple more seriously with the chain of events that led here.
It was exactly four days ago. The day I'd decided to bail on the written exam after studying somewhat diligently for a few days.
'What can you do? The one person who could help me study is pissed off and won't even talk to me.'
That day—late evening, when I'd unusually tangled with Kazan, Eliya, and the other candidates.
"You said those words that made me react so sensitively..."
With that final line, Lete refused to look me in the face anymore.
Our study sessions naturally fell apart, and since then, we hadn't crossed paths properly even once. She was clearly avoiding me on purpose.
We'd bickered countless times before, but this was the first time it had dragged on like this.
We'd always defaulted to glaring at each other whenever we met... So no matter how much we snarled, the emotional rift never deepened.
This was the first time. A petty cold war with Lete stretching out this long.
We'd gone days without seeing each other plenty of times due to busy schedules, but never after hurting each other's feelings without exchanging a single word—as far as I could remember.
That made it all the harder to figure out how to resolve it. Nothing came to mind on how to fix things.
It hit me anew in moments like this: my people skills were seriously lacking.
Unable to come up with any decent plan, my thoughts naturally shifted to tracing the cause.
Before assigning blame, where did the responsibility truly lie—with whom?
'...Did I mess up?'
It was the most obvious question to tackle first, but even that I couldn't pin down for sure.
I pressed my fingers gravely against my eyes. Of course, that "don't be annoying" line back then wasn't exactly tactful.
The tone and nuance reeked of irritation, plain as day.
From the listener's side, it was plenty enough to offend—or hurt.
'...But it's been fine until now.'
What I couldn't understand came next. We'd known each other for four years—how many harsh words had I thrown at Lete over that time?
She'd never shown a hint of resentment or hurt about it before.
So why react so delicately now? Even now, the wounded expression on her face from that moment lingered in my mind.
Nothing about it sat right with me.
Lete Heresia turning away with that uncharacteristically emotional flinch. Me acting like a startled kid, watching her warily.
'Haa.'
I silently brushed my bangs upward. With the black hair clearing from around my eyes, my vision felt a bit clearer.
And right on cue—ding, dong, ding. The bell tolled noisily as it rang out.
With a sharp 'thunk!', the proctor at the podium closed his book and announced indifferently.
"Exam over. Hands off your desks. Don't touch your papers. You're free to go."
As soon as the curt announcement ended, chairs scraped back everywhere as people stood.
Lete did the same. For a split second—coincidence or intent?—she turned and our eyes met once... but that was it.
Her brows furrowed sulkily, like she was in a foul mood, then she whipped around and stormed out pointedly.
I stood to follow as she left the exam hall.
Not with any intent to chase her, though.
'Do whatever you want, you brat.'
It was petty, but her inscrutable words and actions grated on me just as much. Who did she think she was sulking like that for?
I shot the exam paper one last glare and exited the hall.
Right now... I just felt like taking it out on someone.
And I knew exactly who.
Stepping over the threshold, I spotted a flash of purple hair scurrying down the opposite corridor.
Evan lightly pushed off the ground, folding space in a leap, and snatched Eliya by the scruff of her neck.
"...Eek!?"
She'd given it her all, but it was just a hurried jog. When I put my mind to it and channeled divine power, there was no reason I couldn't catch her.
Her escape attempt failed spectacularly, leaving her dangling from my grip, face twisted in a pout.
"W-Why are you doing this to me? I didn't do anything...!"
"Then why run? Got something to hide?"
"Because I knew you'd pull something like this!?"
Eliya thrashed desperately to break free from my grasp, but it just looked like flailing in midair.
Even in raw strength, she couldn't match me—and divine power wouldn't change that either.
After struggling for a while, Eliya finally realized it. It didn't take long for her to give up and go limp.
"Fine... Kill me if you want. But I still won't spill the secret base location."
"...What kind of character concept is that?"
I let out an exasperated breath but released my grip without fuss.
I hadn't lifted her too high, so she landed smoothly...
"I've been thinking, Evan."
She fussed with her disheveled clothes, sneaking a glance at me.
Even accounting for her usual prickly personality, her expression was a notch sharper.
I knew exactly why she'd been tracked down. A pointless vent session, or maybe a reluctant chat partner for frustrations too stifling to ignore?
Eliya smirked and continued.
"You seem a bit dense sometimes."
"What did you just call me, you little—?"
"H-Hey, don't swing first!"
My fist shot up on reflex, and Eliya flailed her hands in panic. She didn't want another red mark on her flawless forehead.
I lowered my arm with a scowl, and she wiped sweat from her brow in relief.
Couldn't even let her finish a sentence. Her thug-like behavior defined Evan Lane's reputation, origins be damned.
Keeping her disdain hidden, Eliya spoke calmly.
"Just hear me out first. Don't fly off the handle—let's talk like civilized people."
"...That tone's grating, like you're calming a dog. Fine. What's your point?"
I crossed my arms and listened. She was the spark of this mess, so I wasn't thrilled—but taking it out on her indiscriminately felt pathetic.
Objectively, blaming Eliya for four days ago was a stretch.
Maybe I'd sought her out because there was no one else to unload on. She was the closest thing to a third party involved.
"I might get hit again... No, even if I do, I have to say this."
And her next words pierced right through me.
"You idiot."
"..."
"Right now, you should've chased after Lete, not me. Apologize, talk it out... You got your priorities all wrong."
Eliya said it straight, then gauged my reaction slyly.
She half-expected a punch, but no sign of it. Just lips pursed in visible discomfort.
She probably knew deep down. I wasn't the one I should be grabbing onto.
Just pointless pride refusing to admit it, mixed with vague guesses lacking conviction—leading to half-hearted avoidance.
How pathetic was that?
He was fine otherwise, if a bit violent—but turning coward over a girl?
'Why am I even helping with this anymore? God.'
Not some love cupid, yet here she was, stuck in the middle doing who-knows-what.
Her mood soured oddly, but what could she do? Watching both sides flounder would give anyone indigestion.
"You have a vague idea, right?"
Eliya prodded my chest sharply—enough to sting a bit.
"Why Lete snapped like that. It was all over her face. You're not that oblivious..."
"..."
"I don't know how serious those feelings run, but calling a girl who likes you 'annoying'? You owe her an apology, Evan."
Her pale purple eyes fixed on me with uncharacteristic gravity.
For me, it was a first—being scolded by the girl I'd always ragged on. The dynamic felt embarrassingly awkward.
Eliya caught my mixed expression and let out a light chuckle.
A laugh that said she could read my thoughts like a book.
"Surprised? The girl always nagging to sleep together is saying this?"
"...Well."
"Think I'd ignore a friend's troubles? How rude."
She grinned mischievously, giving my ankle a light kick.
Thwack!
"Oh?"
I took the hit without dodging—unlike usual—and Eliya let out a short gasp, tilting her head up.
My eyes wandered, avoiding hers; lips twitching with a sour edge.
Who'd have thought Evan would squirm like this against her? Eliya savored the fresh thrill and ticklish satisfaction.
Part of her wanted to tease him relentlessly in this rare moment...
"...Go on. Who knows? Lete might be waiting for you, fidgeting."
But she reined in the impulse, giving my chest a light shove.
A twinge of regret, sure—but enough for now. Seeing that look on his face was plenty satisfying.
Still, even prodded to hurry, I hesitated.
Eliya twitched one eye, frowning. Not lingering on dumb worries, but seeming... guilty toward her?
"Haa."
A blatant sigh escaped her. If he was like this, treat her better normally... What an awkwardly affectionate guy.
She wanted to gripe, but timing was off.
Resigned, Eliya rose slightly on tiptoe, leaning her face near my lips.
Our breaths mingled at that close range—finally, I flinched a little.
Up close like this, damn, he was handsome—pushing that shallow thought aside, she whispered.
"If you're grateful, just say so honestly. Don't play coy like some punk."
"..."
"If it's bugging you that much, how about a thank-you kiss?"
She flashed a wicked smile, tossing out an offer no one would accept.
She was sure it'd make him recoil in shock.
That's the Evan she knew. Her own cuteness and charm? Irrelevant.
He shunned her suspiciously, with chastity views way outside the norm.
Most guys would fold to that coquettish approach.
Not Evan. Knowing that, she figured enduring a bit of embarrassment was worth getting this hassle off her hands and back to her friend.
"...Hm?"
So Eliya—only realized a beat late that Evan was gently brushing her bangs aside.
Unforeseen skinship. Her impulsive words met with sudden contact.
Mwah.
Even as his lips touched her forehead, she couldn't process it.
Just felt something soft and warm press against her brow and pull away.
Evan drew back, and Eliya stared up at him, utterly dumbfounded.
His hand gently stroked her forehead with awkward tenderness.
"...E...?"
She let out a genuinely dumbstruck voice. No helping it.
Two things she hadn't anticipated. First: through our talk, Evan's view of her had softened considerably.
Second... Kisses with Lete and Israfeel had lowered his psychological barrier to them way down.
He probably couldn't even guess a tenth of her feelings right now.
A worldview utterly opposed to the Sun Church priests' norms.
"Sorry for always hitting you, Ruben. No—Eliya. Never thought you'd take me this seriously."
"Uh, wha? Wai?"
"Can't promise I'll be all sweet from now on, but... thanks anyway."
He patted her head like a kid's, half her soul seemingly fled in daze.
Then added one last thanks, turned, and hurried off.
Probably to find Lete—but that hardly mattered to Eliya now.
She just stared blankly at his retreating back, swept in an indescribably impudent rush.
Best she could do. Once he vanished from sight, Eliya silently flushed crimson.
She awkwardly lowered her tiptoes. Eyes wide and lost, shaking.
"Hng, ack...?"
Standing frozen like a statue, she fumbled at her forehead, stammering.