Chapter 121: Eighty
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 121: Eighty
"Who are you?"
Muen asked, his brow furrowed.
He had been at the Academy for a while now, but he didn't think he’d provoked any young girls yet.
Could it be some trouble caused by the original host?
No, given the original host's tastes, it was impossible for him to be interested in a girl like this.
"Muen... Classmate Muen, don't you remember me?"
The girl stood up from the bushes, her hair still littered with withered leaves. She adjusted the black-rimmed glasses that had gone askew on her face due to her agitation and said weakly:
"I'm Shali Flandre. Like you, I'm a second-year student. I was there during the martial arts class earlier."
"Shali Flandre?"
Muen rubbed his chin, thinking. The name didn't ring a bell at all.
And that martial arts class... Back then, in order to find the source of that mysterious malice, he had scanned the students below so many times. Even so, he didn't recall seeing such a small girl in the crowd.
Was she really that inconspicuous?
"Classmate Muen might not remember my name, but... but there's one thing. If I say it, you should know."
Shali lowered her head, not daring to meet Muen's gaze, and said hesitantly:
"The... the library? Af... after-school lessons?"
Muen froze.
What an unfortunate choice of keywords. That’s going to lead to some very strange associations!
And you, little girl, dressed like a top student, saying things like that to a blonde guy like me—aren't you afraid of something going wrong?
Muen couldn't help but complain inwardly.
But then, a spark of realization hit him.
Wait.
Hold on.
Those words...
Muen suddenly remembered: "Oh, are you that girl who misunderstood me in the library before?"
"Y-yes, that's right." Shali nodded vigorously.
"So it was you."
Muen rubbed his chin.
When he first entered the Academy, he had gone to the library to find a classmate who could tutor him and ran into this girl. However, because his reputation back then was abysmal—a playboy, a heartbreaker juggling a dozen girls—this innocent girl thought he had some wicked ulterior motive. It led to a misunderstanding, and she had even kicked him.
"So... why were you following me?" Muen asked, puzzled.
"Be... because I wanted to apologize to Classmate Muen," Shali said in a low voice.
"Apologize?" Muen was taken aback.
"I'm very sorry, Classmate Muen. I misunderstood you back then."
Shali clenched her hands and bowed respectfully. "At that time, I was misled by those rumors and thought Classmate Muen was a scumbag who deceived girls, so I...
"Later, after everything that’s happened recently, I gradually realized that Classmate Muen isn't as bad as I imagined. Looking back, I realized... you probably really just wanted me to help you with your lessons."
"Exactly."
Muen gave a helpless smile.
But thinking about it now, he was actually somewhat grateful for Shali's misunderstanding.
Because of that, he had been able to meet his Senior.
"Usually, I don't have the chance to run into Classmate Muen, so I took this opportunity to quickly..."
"Meaning, you skipped the martial arts class?" Muen said, surprised.
"An-anyway, Professor Kade left, didn't he?" Shali's cheeks flushed slightly.
As she spoke, she suddenly pulled out a bamboo basket covered with a red cloth from behind her and held it out to Muen with both hands.
"What's this?"
"It's a small token of my gratitude."
Shali seemed shy, her toes tracing circles on the ground. "I couldn't come to apologize empty-handed, so I prepared a gift."
"You really didn't have to," Muen said with a smile. "I forgot about that a long time ago. There's no need for an apology."
"B-but I would feel very uneasy otherwise," Shali said loudly. "Please, Classmate Muen, accept it."
"I see. What's inside?"
"S-some pastries I made myself."
Shali said sheepishly, "My family isn't well-off, and I don't have much money, so this is the only way I can apologize."
"Handmade pastries..."
Muen lifted the cloth covering the basket. Immediately, the sweet aroma of cake wafted out, making his mouth water.
It was clear that Shali was a very talented baker.
"In that case, I'll accept them."
If it were something expensive, he definitely couldn't take it. But since it was a gift full of heart, Muen felt it would be rude to refuse.
"Th-thank you!"
"I should be the one thanking you. The cake looks delicious."
"Th-then I won't disturb Classmate Muen's busy schedule any longer. Goodbye!" Shali gave a deep bow. "I'll bring you more pastries in the future!"
"Eh? In the future?"
Before Muen could react, Shali turned and fled as if her life depended on it.
From her stiff movements and the way she almost tripped, it was clear she had been incredibly nervous facing him.
"Shali Flandre? Quite a nice girl."
Watching Shali's retreating back, Muen couldn't help but smile.
He glanced at the cake in the basket. "Looks like I don't need to go to the cafeteria after all."
With that, he changed direction, intending to head straight back to the dormitory.
He carried the basket, his steps light.
"I feel a bit like Little Red Riding Hood in the forest," Muen muttered to himself, making a joke only he would understand.
The wind picked up again, causing the entire forest to rustle.
Along with the breeze came the chill of late autumn, creeping into Muen's sleeves and pant legs, greedily licking at his skin.
Muen shivered.
One moment he was thinking about rushing back to the dorm to grab a jacket, but the next, he suddenly stopped.
His expression turned grim.
He felt it again—that prying gaze hidden in the autumn wind.
"It wasn't Shali?"
Muen frowned, then realized.
Shali had followed him just to apologize. There was no way her gaze could be so cold, carrying a chill that made his hair stand on end.
Now that I think about it... it might not be a pervert after all.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Muen noticed the bushes and leaves beside him rustling violently.
Something was approaching.
"Who's there!"
Muen barked, his hand already moving toward his back.
Then, the bushes parted. The first thing that met Muen's eyes... was a pair of eyes glowing with a faint green light, radiating coldness and cruelty.
This was...
"A wolf?"
Muen froze for a moment, thinking he had misseen. He blinked hard.
But it was indeed a wolf—a blood-red wolf, over half the height of a man.
Even though its crimson fur was so striking, Muen hadn't noticed it until the wolf stepped out of the bushes of its own accord.
"What the hell?"
Muen glanced at the red-clothed basket in his hand and couldn't help but twitch his lips.
"Does Little Red Riding Hood always have to meet the Big Bad Wolf?"
Complaints aside, Muen didn't dare relax in the face of the blood-red wolf.
This was Saint Maria. God only knew what kind of bizarre creature this abnormally colored wolf was.
A professor's pet?
Or had a beast from the notorious Magical Beast Club escaped again?
Regardless, his intuition told him that the current situation was bad.
The giant blood wolf didn't rush to attack. Instead, it paced back and forth not far from Muen.
It seemed to be looking for a weakness, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Muen didn't dare let down his guard either. His eyes remained fixed on the blood wolf as he slowly shifted his position.
No matter where this wolf came from, the smart choice wasn't to tangle with it, but to get out of there.
This was the Academy. As long as he didn't run into some cute first-year, even a janitor could help him thin-slice this wolf that had appeared out of nowhere.
Besides, this path wasn't too remote. As long as he waited for classes to end...
In that instant, a chill struck.
The Death Premonition he had honed through countless deaths in the Black Book space suddenly yanked at his hair like a bratty child.
Turn around!
Turn around!
Danger is behind you!
Without hesitation, Muen spun around. He saw a blood-red shadow pouncing at him from the lush greenery.
A second one!
The first wolf was a feint to lure the enemy?
Damn! It's that smart?
With no time to think, Muen slammed the bamboo basket toward the blood wolf.
The basket itself wouldn't do much damage, but the red cloth covering it spread out, momentarily obscuring the wolf's vision.
The fragrant cakes scattered everywhere.
There was no time to mourn the loss. Muen used his free hand to press down on the blood wolf's head. Then, the hand he had been hiding behind his back shot out, plunging a gripped short blade deep into the wolf's throat.
Blood sprayed. The blood wolf let out a few whimpers, convulsed, and went still.
But Muen didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief.
He could already feel a foul, stinking wind surging from the other side.
The first blood wolf hadn't been idle. The moment Muen turned to kill the second one, it pounced without hesitation.
Claws extended, fangs bared, it aimed for Muen's vitals like a predator taking down prey.
Muen didn't turn back, knowing it was too late. He simply followed his premonition and instinct, twisting his body.
Crack, crack, crack.
A series of crisp pops, like roasting beans, erupted from Muen's body. It sounded like hundreds of bones rubbing together as his joints shifted in ways that defied common logic.
Muen's body twisted into a bizarre angle, miraculously dodging the blood wolf's pounce at point-blank range.
However, the wolf's claws still raked across his shoulder, leaving several jagged, bloody gashes!
Feeling the stinging heat on his shoulder, Muen's expression turned fierce. He reached out and shoved his hand into the wolf's maw.
The barbed tongue sliced his skin, and sharp canines pierced his flesh. The intense pain in his hand and shoulder stimulated his nerves.
Yet Muen gripped the blood wolf's lower jaw tightly, as if holding the handle of a club.
Then, his wrist snapped. He twisted, swung, and slammed!
The blood wolf's body traced a perfect semi-circle in the air. After a 180-degree flip, its back slammed hard against the ground, exposing its vulnerable belly.
Without hesitation, Muen pinned it down and drove his short blade into the wolf's heart.
The blood wolf struggled briefly before going still.
Muen pulled out the blade and leaned against a nearby tree, panting in short gasps.
From the moment the second wolf attacked until now, only a few breaths had passed.
But the sheer danger of it left him with a lingering sense of dread.
After all, he hadn't expected a second blood wolf to be able to approach him silently from behind and launch a sneak attack.
"I need to leave, now."
The blood wolves didn't seem like a chance encounter. That style of attack felt more like a targeted assassination.
Not to mention that gaze...
Glancing at the wounds on his shoulder and hand, Muen's eyes darkened. He took a moment to steady his breathing and prepared to leave without hesitation.
But then, he heard the sound of flowing water.
A gurgling sound.
But there was no water here. Where was it coming from?
Muen looked down at the ground.
The two blood wolf corpses were melting like honey under high heat.
They turned into two pools of blood.
Soon, the blood began to churn, bubbling as if boiled by an invisible furnace.
Then, from the boiling blood, new blood wolves emerged, shaking their heads, baring their fangs, and stepping out.
Two became four.
The four newborn blood wolves exhaled foul breath from their snouts. Their emerald eyes, filled with coldness and cruelty, slowly surrounded Muen.
Muen felt a chill run through his entire body.
But it wasn't because of the wolves.
In fact, his earlier struggle was only because he wasn't sure of the wolves' origin, so he had chosen to observe cautiously, which led to the sneak attack.
Now that he had a rough idea of their individual strength—roughly equivalent to low-level magical beasts—he was absolutely certain he could escape even if surrounded.
After all, running away had always been his forte.
The problem was that, at this moment, he recognized the origin of these blood wolves.
These weren't magical beasts, nor were they pets.
Born from pools of blood, they had no physical substance, yet possessed the ferocity and violence of real magical beasts.
And as long as there was a sufficient supply of mana, they could continuously respawn from the blood, becoming more numerous and powerful each time.
This was a specific type of Summoning Magic. And in Muen's memory, there was only one person who used this spell.
Someone he—or rather, the original host—was extremely familiar with.
"Amon?"
Muen looked into the depths of the forest. "Is that you?"
"..."
No one answered.
However, the sound of footsteps rang out.
A skinny figure stepped over the fallen leaves and appeared before Muen.
"Long time no see, Muen Campbell."
The face was hidden in the shadows, making it hard to see, but the corner of the mouth was curled into what seemed like a mocking sneer.
"I didn't expect you to still remember me. I'm honored."
"You—"
Looking at Amon, after a brief moment of shock, anger flared in Muen's chest. "Why are you doing this?"
In Muen's memories, Amon Biandi had a very close relationship with him—or rather, the original host. He was essentially the original host's most loyal lackey, helping him commit countless misdeeds. Known as the "Campbell's Wolf," he was Muen's most capable assistant. Often, the persecution of Ariel was carried out by him.
For instance, at the start of the school year, he had challenged Ariel, only to be stopped by Muen.
So Muen never expected that Amon would suddenly attack him. And looking at this setup, it wasn't just a prank; he was truly out for Muen's life.
Consequently, a feeling of betrayal, as if by someone close, surged in Muen's heart.
"Answer me, Amon. Why are you doing this? Are you being controlled? Or is it..."
"Ha! Why am I doing this?"
Amon interrupted Muen, his voice raspy and filled with utter mockery. "Isn't Young Master Muen the one who knows that best?"
"Me?"
Muen frowned in confusion.
Had he done something?
But during this time, in order to change himself, Muen had completely cut ties with his old circle of delinquents. He hadn't even contacted Amon.
He certainly didn't intend to treat Amon like a lackey anymore.
But why...
"Ha, hahaha..."
Seeing Muen's bewildered face, Amon suddenly burst into laughter. It was a loud, bone-chilling, and desolate laugh.
"So you don't understand, Muen Campbell. You really don't understand!"
"You don't understand how much I hate you right now!"
"I want nothing more than to skin you alive, crush your bones, and suck out the marrow!"
As the words fell, killing intent erupted.
The four blood wolves simultaneously turned into indistinguishable blurs, pouncing at Muen.
They were faster and stronger than before!
In an instant, they blocked all of Muen's paths.
It looked as though he would be torn to shreds by these giant crimson wolves in the next second.
However.
Muen was too familiar with Amon's Blood Wolf Summoning. He had seen Amon use this move more than once, so he knew its weakness well.
—While these blood wolves couldn't be killed and were extremely troublesome due to their strength and speed (which were top-tier even among the Second-Tier), a Third-Tier martial artist could be worn down to death if entangled by them.
Mages were even worse off; these agile giant wolves were the natural enemies of mages.
But ultimately, it was a specialized type of summoning. All the power lay in the wolves themselves. They were great at offense but lacked defense!
Especially when these giant wolves launched an attack, it required a massive amount of mana from the summoner!
The moment the blood wolves pounced, Muen raised his hand, his fingers curving like claws.
"Thunder Clap!"
A massive boom erupted. A violent shockwave, controlled by Muen, surged toward the blood wolf in front of him.
The shockwave vibrated, and the blood wolf whimpered.
Muen lunged forward. Taking advantage of the moment the wolf was stunned, he drove his short blade into its eye.
All the way to the hilt!
The blood wolf quickly went still.
—Even though it was a summon, it still followed the laws of living creatures. Once a vital point was hit, it would die.
But Muen knew it would soon revive in the pool of blood.
He couldn't drag this out!
Muen grabbed the wolf's head like a professional hammer thrower. He twisted his body a turn and a half and hurled the corpse, hitting the three wolves behind him.
The wolves' pounce was delayed, giving Muen a brief moment to breathe.
But this precious time wasn't for resting. It was for—
Shadow Step!
Muen vanished from his spot instantly. All that could be seen were the fallen leaves on the ground being swept up by a violent wind, swirling everywhere.
The next moment, Muen appeared in front of Amon.
Amon seemingly hadn't expected Muen to close the distance so quickly. A flash of shock appeared on his face.
Then, in his stunned pupils, a fist the size of a mallet rapidly approached.
"Amon!"
Muen roared and swung.
The fist slammed into Amon's cheek, instantly twisting his mocking sneer.
"Tell me, why?!"
Amon's already thin body was sent flying by the punch.
The moment he hit the ground, Muen caught up with Shadow Step, pinned him down, and threw another punch.
"Why?! Why did you attack me!"
Muen felt anger burning in his chest, and his eyes turned bloodshot.
It felt like being betrayed by someone closest to him.
No, it wasn't "like"—it was.
To the former Muen Campbell, Amon was his most capable subordinate, his closest follower, and his most obedient dog.
The former Muen Campbell had never even considered the possibility of being betrayed by Amon.
Thus, this grief and incomprehensibility flowed through this body and its inseparable memories, causing the current Muen Campbell to boil with rage as well.
"Why did you do it?"
"Who ordered you?!"
"What's your goal?!"
"Why did you betray me?"
Muen punched again and again until his knuckles were stained with warm blood. Yet, even so, the corner of Amon's mouth remained curled in a mocking smile.
"I betrayed you? Muen Campbell, those words are hilarious!"
Amon spat a mouthful of bloody saliva at Muen and laughed loudly. "Wasn't it you who betrayed me first?"
"What? Me?" Muen froze, then growled, "When did I ever betray you?"
"You abandoned me!"
Amon's eyes widened as he screamed:
"You abandoned me! Is that not betrayal?"
"What do you mean abandoned? I gave you your freedom! I stopped making you act like a dog! Do you mean to tell me..."
Muen angrily grabbed Amon's collar, looking ready to throw more punches.
But at that moment, a beam of sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves.
It fell on Amon's face.
Muen's raised fist froze in mid-air. The anger in his eyes slowly faded.
"Amon, you..."
What kind of face was he looking at?
Aside from the fresh wounds from Muen's fists, this face was covered in stubble and looked utterly haggard.
His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept in ages. His eye sockets were sunken, his cheekbones protruded, and he was as gaunt as a corpse.
But why was he so thin? Even if he was only the second son of a viscount, he was still a noble. And in Muen's memory, when Amon followed him, he ate and drank the best of everything. How could he be this thin?
And...
Only now did Muen realize.
Amon seemed... too weak.
Amon was a fourth-year student, and he wasn't weak among his peers. Otherwise, the former Muen wouldn't have taken him in as a lackey.
Even if Muen knew the weakness of the Blood Wolf Summoning, it shouldn't have been this easy to break through. In his memory, those blood wolves should have been larger and far more terrifying.
That was why he hadn't recognized them immediately.
But why...
"Amon, what exactly happened?"
"Heh, what happened? The noble son of a Duke wouldn't know, of course."
Amon's eyes were crimson. "Of course you wouldn't know what I've been through during the time you abandoned me!"
Amon pulled open his clothes, exposing his torso.
Then, rows of clearly recent wounds entered Muen's sight.
They were dense, with flesh turned outward, crisscrossing in a horrifying display.
He had been suffering from severe injuries and mana depletion. That was why he was so weak.
"This is..."
"Haha! You're the Duke's son. You decided to wash your hands of the past and cut ties with everything. So, you threw everything away.
"Including the dog you raised.
"Naturally, there's nothing wrong with that. Everyone cheered because one less bully existed in the world.
"But have you ever thought about what happens to that dog—the dog that bit countless people for its master, that offended countless people—when it suddenly loses its master?"
What would happen?
Naturally, there would be retaliation.
People who hated Muen Campbell.
People who were jealous of Muen Campbell.
People who loathed Muen Campbell.
Those people naturally didn't dare do anything to Muen Campbell himself. They didn't even dare say a harsh word to his face.
Because he was the son of a Duke. The only son.
Just as those thirty-five noble children didn't dare raise their heads before Muen, his power was something few could match.
So, that jealousy, hatred, and loathing were redirected, with interest, onto that masterless dog.
No matter how sharp your claws are, what can a dog do once it loses its master?
When a dog falls into the water, everyone comes to beat it.
"So... that's how it is?"
Celicia's words suddenly echoed in Muen's mind:
[Muen Campbell, you've cut ties with your past too cleanly.]
[Not everyone will be happy about your change.]
"So that's how it is..."
Because he was so desperate to change himself, Muen hadn't looked anywhere else since entering the Academy.
He hadn't spared a single glance at his past.
So, naturally, he didn't know that in the shadows where the light couldn't reach, someone had endured so much for him.
"I'm sorry, Amon..."
At this point, Muen didn't know what else to do, so he could only offer a hollow apology.
"Sorry? Is 'sorry' useful? Is it? No!"
Amon screamed hoarsely. "Do you know how many times I apologized to those people? It was useless! Completely useless!"
"I..."
Muen's expression was bleak, his lips trembling. "Then what do you want me to do? How can I compensate you?"
"Compensate me?"
Amon suddenly froze.
It was as if he had heard an unexpected answer.
After a brief silence, Muen saw the corners of Amon's mouth twitch.
It wasn't a sneer.
It was a fawning smile.
A smile so natural, it looked as if it had been practiced a thousand times.
He grabbed Muen's hand tightly. At that moment, Muen could almost see a tail wagging behind him.
"Then... Young Master Muen, let me be your dog again. Just like before. Let me be your dog. I'll do whatever you say. I'll bite whoever you want me to bite, okay?
"Let's go back to how it was! Okay!"
"Let you... be my dog again?"
Muen looked at Amon's fawning smile and suddenly felt a wave of nausea.
How could he let someone be his dog?
He wasn't the old Muen Campbell!
"That's not right."
"Eh?"
"That's not right, Amon. You're a person, not a dog."
"B-but the meaning of my existence is to be your dog, Young Master!" Amon's eyes widened.
"No one's meaning in life should be something so ridiculous!"
Muen shook off Amon's hand and then reached out again.
"Stop talking about being someone's dog. It's disgusting. Amon, be my friend. As long as we're friends, no one will dare do anything to you. And those who bullied you... I'll make them pay the price."
"Friend..."
Amon stared blankly at Muen's outstretched palm.
"That's right. Friends."
"I..."
Amon's eyes flickered, as if he were moved. But the next moment, his expression turned angry and distorted again.
" I don't believe you!"
"What?"
"I don't believe in a hollow word like 'friend'!"
"It's not a hollow word. I mean it, Amon. I want to be your friend!" Muen said seriously.
He didn't know how to define the word "friend," but in his memories, Amon was someone that important to the old Muen Campbell.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so angry just now.
"But I know you, Muen Campbell!"
Amon roared in frustration. "As your former dog, I know exactly what kind of person you are! You don't have friends, and you don't need them! You only need dogs to do your bidding and toys for your amusement!"
"..."
Muen opened his mouth, but no words came out.
On this point, he had no defense.
Because the original Muen Campbell really was that much of a scumbag.
Or rather, in the eyes of others, he was that kind of scumbag.
But...
"That was the past," Muen said with a determined look.
"Didn't you just say it? I've washed my hands of it. I'm not the person I used to be. I'm not a scumbag anymore!"
"But what you've changed is your behavior. Behavior is easy to change, but what about your nature? Nature is what decides everything, isn't it?"
"My nature has changed too!"
"How can you prove it!"
"I..."
How could he prove it?
What could prove that a person's nature had changed?
To prove something, one needed an even more powerful feat.
"Amon, you know, right? My score on the Magic Basic Theory exam last semester was only three points."
"Hm?"
Amon was stunned.
Of course he knew. The whole Academy knew. He just didn't know why Muen was bringing it up now.
"And you know this too, right? My Campbell family is a family of true meatheads. From top to bottom, not a single one of us is good at magic. Even in our library, besides books on martial arts, there are only bizarre miscellaneous books. My ancestors would rather stock books like Postpartum Care for Sows than put a single magic book in there."
"..."
"You could say that the inability to use magic is practically branded into the Campbell bloodline," Muen said. "But a few days ago, someone suddenly told me to pass the next Magic Basic Theory exam."
"The first-year one?"
"The second-year one!" Muen said firmly. "The second-year exam!"
"That's impossible," Amon said instinctively.
Going from three points to a passing grade... the gap was just too large.
"Exactly. It's impossible."
Muen smiled self-deprecatingly, then his expression turned solemn.
"But I'm going to do it.
"I'm going to get a sixty on that exam. I'm going to pass. I'm going to get a score that shocks everyone!
"In the name of Muen Campbell! I'll shock everyone who thinks I can't do it!"
Muen reached out to Amon again.
"Amon, let's make a bet. If I can pass in a month—if I can successfully break the Campbell 'curse'—will that prove to you that I have the determination and the ability to change my nature?
"So, when that time comes, will you agree to be my friend?"
Amon stared at Muen. He seemed to see an unshakeable determination burning in the blonde man's eyes.
"...But a mere sixty points, even I could..."
"If sixty isn't enough, then eighty!"
Muen gritted his teeth and roared.
"If you think just passing isn't enough, then I'll aim for 'Excellent'!"
"Eighty..."
Amon's eyes widened. "Are you crazy?"
For any exam, if sixty was the threshold for passing, then eighty was the threshold for excellence.
One represented basic entry—something anyone could achieve with serious study. The other represented a complete mastery of the subject, requiring not just hard work, but the right methods and a bit of luck.
Especially for a subject like Magic Basic Theory, the sheer volume of tedious knowledge meant that many who studied hard still hovered around the seventy-point mark.
In the entire second year, the excellence rate for this subject was only about twenty percent.
If Muen passing in a month was "Hard" difficulty, then achieving "Excellent" in a month was "Ultimate Hell" difficulty—like leading the army of Gambia to conquer the five permanent members of the UN.
Even someone as dim-witted as Amon realized instantly that this was impossible.
"I am crazy. I know it's impossible. But didn't you say that me changing my nature is also impossible?"
Muen stared into Amon's eyes. The fire burning in his pupils seemed ready to ignite everything.
"In that case, I'll go and accomplish another impossible feat to prove that this impossible thing is possible!"
Muen's words echoed in the silent forest like a thunderclap, deafeningly loud.
For some reason, looking at this Muen Campbell who seemed like a complete stranger, the hatred and anger accumulated in Amon's heart vanished.
Like snow melting under the sun.
Subconsciously, Amon reached out his hand to grasp the hand that looked so warm and reassuring.
Muen couldn't help but smile.
Great.
This matter...
Finally, it could...
Hm?
Muen's expression suddenly froze.
Their hands were joined, but Muen didn't feel the expected sense of relief.
Instead, he felt... pain.
A terrifying force surged from the other man's palm, nearly crushing Muen's hand.
"Amon, you?"
"Eh?"
Muen was about to demand an explanation, but he realized Amon looked just as bewildered as he was.
Then, a look of agony washed over Amon’s face.
The veins on his forehead bulged and throbbed, as if he were enduring some unbearable torture.
"Amon? Amon, what’s wrong?"
Sensing something was terribly wrong, Muen ignored the pain in his hand and asked out of concern.
Amon clutched his chest. Beneath his skin, pitch-black veins writhed like nesting vipers.
"The... potion..."
"What potion?"
"That woman... she gave me a magic potion... My mana was actually depleted... I only managed to scrape some together because of that potion, but..."
"Woman? What woman?"
"I don't... Agh!"
Amon suddenly let out a pained roar. His originally scrawny body began to swell like a balloon. His frame shot up in height, bursting through his school uniform, and coarse black fur—as tough as tempered steel—erupted from the surface of his skin!
Before Muen’s stunned eyes, in the span of just a few breaths, Amon had transformed into a monstrous, hideous... werewolf!
"Holy crap, what kind of dark fairy tale is this?"
Not only did Little Red Riding Hood meet the Big Bad Wolf, but now there were werewolves too?
Where was Van Helsing? Someone, get over here and help!
Unfortunately, there was no Van Helsing here. There wasn't even a third person.
Amon’s blood-red eyes, seemingly devoid of all reason, immediately locked onto the only other living soul in the vicinity.
He radiated a savage, murderous aura that made it hard to breathe.
Muen’s face went stiff. His first instinct was to put some distance between himself and this dangerous-looking beast.
However, an action that should have been incredibly simple failed.
Because Amon was still gripping his hand!
Muen’s expression shifted. He tried to wrench himself free, but Amon’s hand was now like an iron vice, pinning him in place.
Damn it, what do I do? Do I have to just abandon the arm?
That brief moment of hesitation seemed to seal his fate.
Muen’s vision blurred. Before he could react, the air was knocked out of him.
Amon’s other hand—no, his other claw—had suddenly clamped around his throat!
The talons tightened, the immense pressure crushing his flesh. Muen could practically hear his neck bones groaning under the strain.
Due to the massive difference in size, Muen’s feet were dangling off the ground, leaving him with no leverage.
He raised his only free hand and swung his other short blade hard against Amon’s arm. When the blade struck the black fur, it actually made the clanging sound of metal hitting metal.
What the hell?
Is that fur actually made of steel? Was that not just a figure of speech?
In an instant, Muen felt a genuine sense of despair.
He knew his own strengths and weaknesses well, and he realized that for someone like him, this was the absolute worst-case scenario.
Amon stared at him with a twisted expression, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with a bloodthirsty joy, as if he could already see the scene of Muen’s blood spraying everywhere.
What now?
What do I do?
As the sensation of suffocation intensified and his brain began to grow foggy, Muen frantically searched for a way out.
The Black Book?
But the Black Book didn't seem to have a way to directly increase his physical strength.
Then there was only...
The Withered King's Crimson Flame?
But...
This was the Academy. Moreover, if he used that flame—the kind that reduced everything to ash—Amon would certainly...
Was there any other way?
There was no other way.
Dammit.
Am I still helpless after all?
Am I still this powerless?
Am I...
"Sigh."
On the verge of losing consciousness, Muen suddenly heard a sigh.
It wasn't the Black Book.
It was...
"Freeze."
A cold, clear command rippled through the woods.
And along with it came a terrifying chill.
It was as if a blizzard capable of drowning the world had descended. The lush green forest was instantly coated in a layer of pure white.
Muen saw a flash of terror cross the werewolf’s face before it froze mid-motion.
He was encased in a layer of azure ice. He had been so hideous and terrifying just a moment ago, but now, looking at him, Muen thought he looked as ridiculous as a frozen caveman in a museum display case.
A hand suddenly grabbed Muen by the collar and pulled him down.
"Cough... cough..."
Muen clutched his throat and coughed violently, gasping for air. He looked up to see the familiar silver-haired figure beside him.
"Celicia? What are you doing here?"
As he spoke, Muen couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle.
He felt like he was always asking her that question.
Celicia stared at the werewolf trapped in the ice, seemingly lost in thought.
Hearing Muen’s question, she turned her head and said coldly:
"If I told you I’ve been here from the start, and that I watched you play the fool and talk nonsense with that idiot from beginning to end, would you be angry?"
"Huh?"
Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen, but Muen’s brain couldn't quite process that for a moment.
Celicia ignored him, turning back as if talking to herself.
"I was hoping to lure out the big fish hiding behind the scenes, but the opponent seems more cautious than I imagined. What a pity."
As her voice fell, several Student Council elites in red uniforms quickly entered the clearing. They moved with practiced efficiency, beginning to place various restrictions on the frozen Amon.
"Wait!"
Muen suddenly called out to them. "What are they doing?"
"Don't be nervous. They're just temporarily sealing Student Amon so they can treat him and ask a few questions," Wei'er, the bun-haired Student Council secretary, popped out from nowhere and said with puffed-out cheeks. "Student Amon was likely just manipulated by someone. We won't punish him too severely. Though, of course, a small lesson is still necessary."
"I see."
Muen nodded. Then, as if remembering something, he hesitantly asked Celicia, "Um, Celicia, could you..."
"You want the list of people who were bullying Student Amon?" Celicia said, seeing right through him.
"Yeah."
"..."
Celicia looked at Muen in silence. She suddenly stepped closer and raised her leg, clad in black stockings.
She delivered a sharp kick to Muen’s shin.
"Ow! Celicia, what was that for?"
"Since you've chosen this path, don't look back. Otherwise, I'll really feel like hitting you."
"But..."
"No 'buts'."
Celicia leaned down, her cold eyes staring seriously into Muen’s.
"Disciplining bad students is the Student Council's responsibility. It's none of your concern."
"..."
Muen fell silent.
"I see you understand now."
The Student Council elites had finished their work. Celicia stood up, preparing to leave with them.
"By the way, do you need me to send you to the hospital?" Celicia asked.
"..."
Muen glanced at his shoulder and hand. His recovery speed seemed to exceed that of a normal person; the wounds were already starting to scab over.
He shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"I see. Then, goodbye."
"Goodbye."
"Ah, one more thing."
Celicia suddenly turned back to Muen and said seriously, "Given your brain and your current level, it's almost impossible for you to score an eighty on next month's exam. But... good luck."
"..."
Muen blinked, then forced a smile that looked more painful than crying. "I'll do my best. Thanks."
*
After Celicia left.
Total silence.
Muen lay in the middle of the lingering white frost, staring blankly through the gaps in the leaves at the distant sun.
Suddenly, as if the sun had stung his eyes, he covered them with his arm and cursed under his breath:
"Goddammit—"
Footsteps echoed through the woods, light as a cat's.
A young woman approached. Her strict uniform did little to hide her seductive figure. She slowly knelt down beside Muen.
"It seems I've arrived late again."
Anna looked at the mess in the clearing and sighed.
After a moment's thought, she shifted her body and gently lifted Muen’s head, resting it on her thighs.
A lap pillow.
Muen’s arm, still covering his eyes, trembled slightly.
"There, there. Junior, don't cry." Anna stroked Muen’s head gently, as if petting a kitten.
"I'm not crying," Muen said.
"Mhm. Junior isn't crying. Junior is very strong."
The leaves rustled, and the sunlight flickered. It was a bit cold.
"Senior."
"Yes?"
"I'm going to get an eighty."
"Ah."
Anna rested her cheek on her hand, looking a bit troubled. "You scared me earlier when you said you'd get a sixty. No matter how you look at it, an eighty is just a bit too difficult, isn't it?"
"But I'm going to do it."
"...Alright then."
Anna looked down and smiled softly.
Her eyes curved into crescents, and the beauty mark at the corner of her eye added a touch of allure.
"Who told you to be my cute little junior?"