The Vice President Who Is Addicted to Praise
Nia Cynthia was coming to Jerion Academy as an associate professor of magicology. This was completely unexpected news. In all my playthroughs of the game, Nia Cynthia had never once become an associate professor.
Why? What had changed to draw Nia to Jerion Academy? I couldn't wrap my head around it.
Nia Cynthia is on the 1st Prince's side. There was only one reason the 1st Prince would ever set his sights on Jerion Academy: when Lucas made a name for himself.
In the original timeline, Hanon Airey was sent here specifically to lure Lucas in. But the real Hanon never transferred. Instead, I did, masquerading as him. At that point, the 1st Prince had lost interest in Jerion Academy.
The 1st Prince was not a man who invested in the distant future. He wanted to align himself with those who currently held the reins of political power. He had no interest in greenhorns who wouldn't enter the political arena for another ten years.
That was why he had willingly yielded the future talents of Jerion Academy to the 3rd Princess, Iris Haishirion. He was confident that as long as he won over the current establishment, the throne would inevitably be his.
But Lucas is dead. Lucas, the only one capable of drawing the pragmatic 1st Prince's attention, was gone. Under these circumstances, why would Nia, who should have been the 1st Prince's right-hand man, come to the academy? The pieces didn't fit.
"Damn this world," I muttered, sighing as I walked down the hallway. It was already hard enough to steer a world on the brink of a bad ending back onto the right track, and now problems were rolling in from outside Jerion Academy.
Did something change with the 1st Prince? Nothing came to mind immediately. That was exactly why I was on my way to find out. Ahead, a familiar door came into view—the door to the Student Council Room.
*Knock, knock.* After two polite raps, I opened the door slowly, out of consideration for whoever might be inside.
*Creak.* As the door slid open, a girl holding a quill pen appeared, framed by the sunlight streaming in from behind her. From beneath long, silver hair that shimmered beautifully in the light, a pair of deep blue eyes, like pools of the ocean, looked up at me.
At first glance, she had a cold, aloof air about her, but the moment she saw me, a soft smile spread across her face, melting that icy impression away.
"Well, look who it is. If it isn't our star underclassman who did so well on the first floor of the Demon Palace," Nikita teased, her tone full of praise.
Just as she said, news of our team's achievements had already spread among the students. The incident with the Forest Keeper, an Apostle that could have caused massive casualties—we had foreseen it and successfully neutralized the threat without a single death. The academy had even promised us a separate reward. Furthermore, a full-scale investigation into the Demon Palace's transformations had begun. It was a relief for me, as various preventative measures would be put in place from now on.
"I could say the same about you, Senior Nikita." But our team wasn't the only one who had performed exceptionally. Nikita's team, composed entirely of third-years, had achieved the incredible feat of reaching the 6th floor of the Demon Palace. For the current third-years, the previous record had been the 5th floor. Nikita's team had set a new record the moment they entered their third year. It was safe to say her team was now the undisputed elite among the third-years.
Yet, despite my praise, Nikita only offered a bitter smile. "By normal standards, it's just average progress. It's nothing to write home about. Our generation is sorely lacking in talent."
She was right; the current third-year talent pool was underwhelming. The graduates from last year, for instance, had already reached the 6th floor during their second year. By their third year, they had bypassed the 7th floor entirely and achieved the magnificent feat of reaching the 8th floor. In contrast, the current third-years had only just set foot on the 6th floor. Perhaps that was why they bore the bitter moniker of the "Weakest Generation."
"Besides, I heard some of the second-years already reached the 5th floor during this run. They'll catch up to us in no time." Just as she said, some second-year teams had already reached the 5th floor. Since they were practically guaranteed to reach the 6th floor in the next raid, the record Nikita's team had just set would soon be overtaken.
The second-year talent pool is utterly absurd. The second-year class was the generation of the protagonist, Lucas. They were known as the "Golden Flame Generation." The Ultimate Villainess, Iris Haishirion. The lazy genius, Van. The genius mage with the Mirinae eyes, Sharin. The Saint, Sirmiyel Saint Eden. Just looking at this lineup, the sheer concentration of talent was ridiculous. And there were still many more gifted individuals, some of whom hadn't even awakened their talents yet.
Well, it makes sense since it's the protagonist's generation. The protagonist was the core driving the story forward. It was only natural that talent would cluster around the generation he belonged to. Consequently, the contrast between the second and third-years was stark, which was precisely why the two classes didn't get along very well.
"What does it matter what others do?" I said, dismissing the comparison. To me, none of that mattered. "You set a new personal record, Senior. That alone is more than enough reason to celebrate."
A record had been broken. She had poured in the effort and achieved a new milestone. Nothing was more important than that. Nikita's eyes widened slightly. Soon, her gaze softened, and a warm smile played on her lips.
"You really have a way with words, Junior." It was a compliment I only ever heard from her.
"My other friends say I speak too bluntly, though."
"How strange. In my eyes, you only ever say the sweetest things. Why don't you try talking to the others the way you talk to me?"
"No way. This treatment is strictly reserved for you, Senior."
"...Should I be happy about that?" Nikita wore a complicated expression. It was a line I had recently learned from Sharin, but unfortunately, it didn't seem to have the desired effect.
"By the way, Senior, there's something I wanted to ask you." I walked over to her desk, naturally sliding some of her paperwork toward myself to help.
"What is it?"
"I heard that Lord Nia Cynthia is coming here as an associate professor of magicology." I picked up a spare quill and began working on the documents. "As an underclassman who is always indebted to you, I thought it would be proper to greet him."
"Don't."
A cold voice cut through the air. My eyes snapped up from the paperwork to look at her. Meeting my gaze, Nikita quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She looked just as shocked as I was by the icy tone that had slipped out of her.
"Ah, um, I didn't mean it like that..." Nikita waved her hands in a fluster, trying to smooth things over. But I already knew exactly why she had reacted that way.
Nikita adored Nia Cynthia. To her, Nia was an idol, an object of admiration, and a wonderful older brother. But behind that adoration and idolization lay a deep-seated jealousy. The Marquisate of Cynthia was a prestigious magic family. Yet, Nikita had been born into this family with absolutely no magical talent. The only value others saw in her was that of a pretty doll to be used in a political marriage. People always yearn for what they cannot have. Nikita, too, had desperately wished to be born with magical talent, and there was a time when that lack of talent was her greatest sorrow.
Nikita was not a flawless saint. No matter how good of a brother Nia was, a sliver of jealousy remained buried deep within her heart. She was mature enough to never let it show, but just now, for the very first time, that jealousy had slipped out. And the catalyst for that jealousy was me.
I was someone who showered Nikita with endless praise. Whenever we met, giving her at least ten compliments was my baseline. I was the only person who supported and validated her unconditionally, no matter what she did. It was a level of coddling and affection she had never received, even as a child. Having grown up accustomed to being undervalued rather than praised, she had initially been flustered and embarrassed by my compliments. Lately, however, she had begun to enjoy them, occasionally throwing me subtle hints to coax more praise out of me. It was incredibly endearing. Somewhere along the line, my praise had woven itself deeply into the fabric of her life. Having tasted it once, she could no longer live without it.
And now, Nia Cynthia had entered the picture. To Nikita, Nia was the ultimate, superior version of herself. Having spent her entire life being compared to him, she knew she could never possess what Nia had, while Nia possessed everything she lacked. I had joined the Student Council because I admired Nikita. What would happen if I met Nia Cynthia, who was superior to her in every way? For a fleeting moment, Nikita had imagined it—the thought of me being stolen away by Nia Cynthia.
To lose the person who filled the void of her childhood with the praise she had always craved... To Nikita, it must have felt like having a cherished, beloved toy snatched away.
"Senior Nikita, I'm not going anywhere. The only one I admire is you." So, I decided to make it absolutely clear to her. Nia Cynthia wasn't even on my radar. The only person I looked up to was Nikita.
At my words, a flustered Nikita slowly raised her head. Then, as if realizing something from what I had just said, her eyes widened to the size of saucers. *Whoosh!* Suddenly, Nikita vanished. To be precise, she had ducked straight under her desk. It seemed she had finally realized the implications of the words she had blurted out without thinking.
I slid my chair back with a soft scrape and approached her desk.
"W-Wait, don't come over here!" Nikita cried out from beneath the desk, burying her face in her hands. She looked like a hamster hiding in its burrow. I naturally sat down in her chair.
"J-Junior, you can go home for the day!"
"I can't do that. Since you doubted me, Senior, I have to make sure you understand today! My heart only belongs to you, Senior!"
"Junior, I hate how quick-witted you are at times like this! But why are you being so dense right now?!"
"To clear away your doubts and show you my sincerity, I can gladly set my tact aside for a moment."
"There is absolutely no consideration for my feelings in that decision!" Nikita whimpered from under the desk. *So this is what it feels like to tease someone,* I thought. I had learned something new today. But just as I was about to stop, sensing she had reached her limit—
"My, what do we have here?" a new voice chimed in.
*Thud!* Nikita tried to jump up in surprise, only to crack her head against the underside of the desk. While she clutched her head, groaning in pain, I turned toward the door. Standing there was a handsome man with the same long, silver hair as Nikita. I knew exactly who he was. Nia Cynthia. The very man we had been discussing just moments ago had opened the door and walked right into the Student Council Room.
"B-Brother..." Nikita scrambled out from under the desk, hurriedly bowing her head. Seeing this, Nia offered a gentle smile.
"Nikita, would you mind explaining what's going on here?"
The big brother had arrived.