The Award Ceremony (Part 2)
Three days had passed since the library incident. We were still holed up in the infirmary. In truth, we'd received such lavish treatment while focusing on recovery that our conditions were back to normal, but as major contributors to resolving the crisis, they weren't letting us go easily. So here we were, lounging around and enjoying the meals they brought us.
Nothing much had happened in the meantime. A few visitors had stopped by while we rested—a handful of professors asking questions, and Veil and Cloi dropping in once a day after hearing the news. Others had come looking for the rest of the group, too. And through it all, we'd picked up various bits of gossip.
One big piece of news was about the library incident itself. Tianis Academy was launching a massive renovation of the library as a result. And who could blame them? It had nearly turned into a bloodbath with countless casualties. If we hadn't intervened, it would've gone down as the darkest day in academy history.
Of course, that plan got shot down immediately by the library spirit, Shasha.
"Does Kiran strike you idiots as the kind of guy who'd make a mistake like that?"
"But Shasha, for the students' safety..."
"Ugh! This whole thing was just a freak accident! Unless a god deliberately meddles, something like this never happens! And you're doubting Kiran's magic right now?!"
"N-no, that's not—"
Apparently, the academy professors pushing hard for relocating the forbidden books were getting thoroughly dressed down. Shasha, as the founding emperor's familiar and a fixture through 400 years of academy history, was someone no one could ignore.
That was a side note, though. And Shasha wasn't wrong—this incident really was a one-in-a-million fluke. Probability-wise, it was like a monkey typing out a world-famous novel. No wonder the seal hadn't broken in 400 years.
Oh, and Shasha's appearance had caused a huge stir too. The spirit looked cuter than a fairy, so students were fawning over her nonstop. Plus, with her prestigious origins, professors were swarming the library daily with relentless questions. She complained about the hassle every time she visited here. Today was no different.
"Hiiing... I like the attention, but there are too many people. Should've just stayed hidden."
Shasha could show herself whenever she wanted, just like other spirits.
"It's fine, Shasha. You're just not used to it yet. It'll get better in a few days."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I had a tough time when I was little, but now I'm fine."
"Only Rana gets me! You're my second favorite after Kiran!"
She shot me a sideways glare as she said it.
"What're you looking at?"
"Fix that glare of yours! It looks like you're bullying me when I'm with Rana! How did a guy like you even come from Keilon... Sigh."
"It's not about looks, you dumb spirit."
I figured she needed a scolding and reached out to grab her, but then thought better of it—what was I doing wrestling a kid?
"Forget it... What's the point of fighting a child like you?"
"Ugh! I'm way older than you!"
"Then you're just an old spirit who's lived too long."
"Eeeeek... I hate you!"
Time passed like that until a knock sounded at the door. It opened, revealing a tailor with a monocle.
"Lady Rana, I'll escort you."
"Okay! See you later, Kyle!"
"Yeah. I'll head out soon too."
I saw Rana off as she left the room. Shasha, following her, turned back for a moment.
"Meeeoow~!"
She teased once more before vanishing. All that age, and she acted just like a kid. I was left alone in the infirmary.
With nothing to do, I stepped out onto the balcony for a bit of fresh air. A cool breeze brushed my skin, sunlight filtering pleasantly through the clouds. Peaceful, if nothing else.
Down below, though? Total chaos—not peaceful at all. As rowdy as festival day, all because of the award ceremony in a few hours. Rana had just gone to get fitted for her uniform. Ours were trashed from the fight with Rich, so the academy was providing new ones.
Soon, the door opened again.
"Lord Kyle, I'll escort you."
I nodded and followed the tailor. The fitting didn't take long—just measurements, and magic handled the rest. Done in under an hour.
"Any discomfort?"
"None. Fits perfectly."
The tailor bowed deeply and led me to where the others waited. There was still plenty more prep to do.
The arena was rarely used except for major events like entrance ceremonies—maybe two or three times a year. But today, it was open for the award ceremony, drawing massive crowds. Even in the waiting room, we could hear the roar.
"...What a hassle."
I was getting annoyed by all this. Who knew getting fitted and prepping would take three whole hours? If I wasn't irritated, that'd be weirder.
"Don't be like that. It just shows how much they value what we did."
The princess chimed in. I'd been propping my chin, swallowing boredom, and shot back immediately.
"Sure, but they didn't need to make such a fuss."
The novel had an award ceremony too, but experiencing it was way more tedious than imagined. Maybe I should've suggested keeping it low-key.
"We're getting first-class medals—something rare even in academy history. Makes sense."
Medals were given for major student contributions, and first-class was the highest of three grades.
They weren't just symbolic, either—real perks came with them. In short, a first-class medal got you:
[Free access to academy facilities.]
[30-50% discounts at affiliated venues.]
[Warp Gate pass: 15 uses per year.]
Lifetime benefits, no less.
Not that I need most of it. The free cafeteria and warp passes might be useful, though.
Anyway, as the princess said, medals were exceedingly rare. The last one was ten years ago—a third-class.
"Don't you want the medal, Kyle? Grandpa said it's a huge honor."
"It's not that. The ceremony's just too much commotion."
No backing out now—everything was set. As Rana and I chatted, the waiting room door opened. A staffer entered. Time to go.
We followed their lead. Just before the arena entrance:
"Follow the rehearsal."
I nodded at the front and strode into the arena.
"Hey! They're coming out!"
A student pointed at the entrance, drawing every eye. Leading was the academy's infamous Kyle Arden, known to all. The other three followed.
The protagonists appeared, and magic welcomed them: petals rained from the sky, a red carpet unrolled with each step, subtle lights highlighting them perfectly.
"Whoa..."
"Stuff like this is entrance ceremony level..."
Students were mesmerized. The ceremony was far grander than usual. The four reached the central podium, where the chancellor and department heads stood solemnly.
"Why's that guy up front?"
"Yeah, shouldn't the princess lead?"
Then doubts arose. Normally, the highest-status person led. The princess might've yielded, but not to him. Rana or Evan behind her would've been better.
"Fairy said he contributed the most."
"Wasn't that a joke?"
"Fairy" meant Shasha.
"The trapped kids said he threatened them. And skill-wise, he's the weakest—no? Grades put the other three at top of the year. Rumor is he tagged along and got lucky."
"Fairy says otherwise. They bullied the princess, and he helped."
"No idea what's true. Professors and kids aren't talking..."
A gag order seemed in place—no leaks from the library. This intel came solely from Shasha. But it sparked another thought: if true, a medal wouldn't be the end.
Whoosh!!
The podium blazed with light. Four medals floated above the chancellor's hand—simple, elegant designs like artworks.
He pinned them with mana, declaring:
"For your selfless sacrifice in service to Tianis Academy, we bestow these first-class medals!"
The medals gleamed on their uniforms. He continued:
"Your names will be etched in Tianis Academy history, forever known to generations."
Cheers and applause shook the arena. Envy tinged some voices.
"Jealous... That gets tuition waived and funding, right?"
"They're all nobles except Evan—why can't we get substitutes?"
"Get real."
Recipients got more: warehouse access, prize money. Ceremony seemed over; students started leaving.
But then:
"Finally, Kyle Arden."
Students paused, turning back. The chancellor faced the delinquent.
"To you, we grant an additional commendation: reduction of 1,000 hours of community service."
The arena fell deathly silent in shock.
Community service reduction of 1,000 hours? My mind blanked at the words. If even I was stunned, imagine the students. Jaws dropped; the noisy arena went utterly quiet.
It was unprecedented. But giving me alone an extra award meant my contribution was greatest—and significant enough to forgive part of my sentence.
No one missed the implication.
"I can't elaborate here, but he played a decisive role. He showed sacrifice too, witnessed by students present."
I hadn't expected this. And it was the most meaningful award yet—better than all the others combined.
Community service was starting to drag me down. Outside unavoidable absences, I'd filled about 600 hours diligently. Still 1,400 left. With vacations ending and busier days ahead, no time for it.
Cutting 1,000 hours? Huge relief. Enormous.
"Thus, Kyle Arden."
"Yes."
"Never forget this moment. Strive onward."
Under the gaze of chancellor, professors, and students, I replied:
"I will continue to work hard."
The long award ceremony finally ended.
The next day.
"What brings you here?"
"Picking you up. Let's go."
My employer, Ruina Lindel, had arrived.