Chapter 122: Effort
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 122: Effort
"Heh heh, not bad. Not bad at all."
Inside the Dean’s office, smoke swirled in the air.
Mr. Pink—the Pink Bear—was sprawled across his newly purchased leather sofa, which boasted a "real-thigh-touch" texture. He puffed on a top-tier cigar from the Southlock Region while flipping through his copy of Saintess Photo Book 2.0, which he’d just acquired through "special channels." Every so often, a lecherous chuckle escaped him.
This latest edition of the photo book didn't just feature actors who looked more like the actual Saintess; it also included "recreations of famous scenes."
For instance, one scene depicted the previous Immaculate Saintess of the Church of Human Life purifying the undead spirits of a cemetery. In the photo, the "Saintess" held a solemn staff, her expression grave as she released a boundless, holy light to purge the hideous, disgusting demons. It was a scene that should have inspired supreme reverence in anyone who saw it.
However, the "Saintess" in the photo was dressed in an incredibly provocative, skimpy, and alluring erotic bikini.
"Tsk, tsk. This interweaving of majesty and allure, this fusion of angel and demon... marvelous. Simply marvelous. Just looking at these photos makes my soul feel like it’s undergoing sublimation. It’s a pity I don’t know who came up with such a genius idea. I’d really love to meet the author of this book."
Lamenting his missed connection, the Pink Bear flicked his cigar butt with a furry hand that protruded from the bear’s mouth and casually scratched his backside.
Ah, this is the life. If only this leisurely slacking could last—
"Pink Bear!"
A deafening roar shook the room as the office door was kicked open.
"Holy crap, back already?"
The Pink Bear jolted, quickly sitting up and shoving the photo book behind his back. He looked toward the doorway at the seemingly livid Professor Prang and shook his head vigorously.
"I wasn't slacking! I wasn't!"
"Slacking is a trivial matter! I don't care about that!" Professor Prang’s eyes were bloodshot, and he spoke through gritted teeth.
"Eh?"
The Pink Bear blinked.
Slacking? A trivial matter?
Was this really Professor Prang speaking?
During the last inquiry meeting, the bear had only dozed off for half an hour, and Prang had nearly kicked the seams out of his fursuit. Why was he so lenient today?
Before the Pink Bear could process this, Professor Prang let out a savage, cold laugh.
"Seize him!"
"Yes, sir!"
"On it!"
Teacher Kade and Professor Glen appeared out of nowhere, each grabbing one of the Pink Bear’s arms.
"What are you doing? What are you doing?!"
Sensing imminent disaster, the Pink Bear began to struggle in terror.
But Kade and Glen were both formidable experts. Under their combined strength, even he found it difficult to break free. Moreover, Professor Prang—a Crown Bearer—was glaring at him from the front.
Surrounded by the three of them, the Pink Bear had no escape.
But why were they doing this?
The Pink Bear’s eyes widened in horror.
Could it be...
Had they discovered he’d been secretly misappropriating funds again to buy sofas, cigars, and photo books?
"Pink Bear! Look at the mess you've made!"
Just as the Pink Bear was trying to figure out how to fudge the budget numbers, Professor Prang slapped a stack of documents onto his face.
"This is..."
The Pink Bear looked at the papers and saw information about a man with a massive scar across his face.
"Huh? Isn't this that guy?"
The Pink Bear remembered. "The fellow who fell in love with Muen Campbell."
"Oh? So you remember your 'good deed'?"
"Good deed? Oh, right, it was a good deed indeed. I was helping him find his true love. Wait... hold on."
Seeing the look on Professor Prang’s face—as if he wanted to chop him into pieces—the Pink Bear suddenly had a terrible thought.
"Don't tell me... he succeeded!"
If the Duke’s son also had that kind of preference and the two of them hit it off and fell in love...
—Oh no. Duke Campbell would slaughter him.
The Duke would lead an army of a hundred thousand to personally hack him to death!
Dammit, I just wanted a bit of fun. Are these noble boys really that twisted? Even if you're into that, at least find someone good-looking!
"I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm betting you've got it wrong," Professor Prang said, picking up the document and pointing to a specific column. "I'm asking about this."
"This?"
The Pink Bear followed Prang’s finger. In the column for the scarred man’s identity, the word "Bandit" was written in bold letters.
"A bandit?"
The Pink Bear’s eyes bugged out. "This guy is actually a bandit?"
"..."
Professor Prang fell silent for a moment. "You didn't know?"
"How was I supposed to know? Sure, he looks like a bandit, but do you think I'm the kind of shallow guy who judges people by their looks? Besides, the guy didn't even smell of blood. Who would believe in a bandit who’s never killed anyone?"
"Then why didn't you use the Academy's intelligence system to check?! Do you have any idea how much reputational damage it causes when a bandit becomes a teacher at our Academy?!" Prang roared.
The Pink Bear was shocked. "Intelligence system? You’re a school for teaching and nurturing, and you have an intelligence system? What are you people planning?"
"Hmph. Not just an intelligence system; there’s actually an armory hidden beneath the Academy," Prang sneered.
"An armory?"
The Pink Bear froze, then suddenly roared with righteous indignation, "Are you planning a rebellion?! I’m telling you, as long as I, the Pink Bear, am in office, I will never allow such treasonous acts! Let me go! And buy me the new Saintess figurine as an apology, or I’ll go straight to His Majesty and report your villainy!"
"I don't have time for your nonsense."
Knowing that continuing the conversation would only allow the Pink Bear to deflect the main issue, Professor Prang cut straight to the point.
"Even if you are the Acting Dean, such a massive oversight cannot be overlooked. You must be punished."
"Punished?"
The Pink Bear’s eyes widened in terror. "How are you going to punish me? Are you going to make me work overtime until I die of exhaustion?"
"That is a good idea, but I have something better in mind."
Professor Prang gave a cold smile and suddenly leaned down. From behind the Pink Bear... he pulled out the Saintess Photo Book.
"Prepare for hell, Dean Pink Bear."
With a cold expression and under the Pink Bear’s horrified gaze, Professor Prang flipped to the first page. His powerful hand gripped the paper and...
Slowly tore it out.
Riiiip—
Accompanied by the crisp sound of tearing paper, the Pink Bear watched as the alluring "Saintess" on the page was split in two. He felt as if his own soul was being torn apart with it.
"Nooooo—!"
*
"Are you really letting him off that easily?"
In Professor Prang’s office, Professor Glen expertly brewed tea and handed a cup to Prang. "Being this merciful isn't like you."
"Hardly," Prang sneered.
"There are over a dozen inquiries waiting for that idiot. Did he really think an error like this would be so easy to brush off? Compared to me, those nobles are the ones watching the Academy like hawks. How could they allow something like this to happen?"
"Hah, true."
Professor Glen gave a cheerful whistle and unceremoniously enjoyed the top-tier black tea he’d scavenged from Prang.
"Speaking of which, has anything happened at the Academy lately?"
Prang had been busy recently; otherwise, he never would have allowed the Pink Bear to appoint a bandit as a teacher without any vetting.
"Nothing. It’s been quite peaceful."
A mysterious smile played on Glen’s lips. "No major incidents, but there is one interesting little matter."
"Oh?" Prang’s interest was piqued. "What is it?"
"This."
Glen handed Prang a newspaper. "It’s a small thing, but it’s been causing quite a stir in the Academy over the past few days."
"That sounds interesting."
Prang took the paper, his eyes scanning the text quickly.
“Muen Campbell makes a bold claim: aims for 'Excellent' grade on the next Magic Basic Theory exam.”
Prang’s eyebrows twitched. "Excellent? That’s an 80? Is he taking the exam with the first-years?"
"Second-years," Glen said, pointing to the end of the report.
"Second-years?"
Prang paused, then let out a cold laugh. "Impossible."
"Oh? So certain?" Glen chuckled. "What if he gets lucky and succeeds?"
"This isn't a goal you can achieve with luck."
Prang tossed the paper aside, losing interest.
"I’ve been a teacher for many years. I know exactly what is possible and what isn't. If Muen Campbell’s goal was a 60—a passing grade—and he spent this entire month focused solely on this subject with a good teacher, it might be possible. But an 80, the 'Excellent' level... that is absolutely impossible."
Professor Prang knew very well the chasm that existed between a 60 and an 80 in Magic Basic Theory. It wasn't something that could be bridged by effort alone.
"What if? There’s a 'what if' for everything. What if he creates a miracle?" Glen leaned in, pressing the issue.
"What if?"
Prang gave a disdainful snort and slapped his beloved antique desk. "I’ll say it again: if he actually pulls it off, I’ll eat this desk!"
*
"It’s spread through the whole school again?"
In the Ancient Potions Society classroom, Muen stared at the newspaper Senior Anna had handed him, dumbfounded.
In the most prominent spot on the front page, printed in bold red ink, was an exaggerated report of the bold words Muen had uttered in the forest. It even had a chuunibyou-style headline: The Duke’s Son’s Counterattack.
It was easy to imagine that with the release of these papers, another wave of gossip would sweep through the recently calmed Academy.
"How does the News Club know everything? I’m sure I didn't tell anyone else this time," Muen said, puzzled.
"Don't underestimate Senior Mingotte from the News Club," Anna said, handing him a cup of coffee. Muen took it, only to realize with a start that the coffee had been brewed in a laboratory beaker.
Do all intellectual, lab-dwelling big sisters roll like this?
"He’s the president of the News Club for a reason. His strength is one thing, but more importantly, he knows a type of magic that allows him to control birds. You could say the many birds in the Academy are his eyes and ears. Very little happens here that can be hidden from him."
"Controlling birds? I see."
With such a convenient spell, it was no wonder the News Club always got the first scoop.
"What’s the matter? Is my junior scared?"
Anna stirred her coffee with a glass rod. Once the sugar cube had dissolved, her pink tongue lightly licked the transparent rod, looking exceptionally seductive.
"It’s not a good thing to have so many eyes on you."
"Scared?"
Muen steadied himself and gave a bitter smile. "I’ve already put myself out there. What is there to be afraid of?"
Muen continued flipping through the paper. When he reached the last page and saw the betting odds on whether he could achieve an "Excellent" grade, his lip curled.
"No way. They’re even taking bets on this? How bored are these people?"
"Studying is dull. People need to find fun somewhere, don't they?" Anna said with a light laugh, sipping her coffee.
"Oh? Does that mean you’ve placed a bet too, Senior?" Muen blinked and asked curiously, "Which side did you pick?"
"Which side?" Anna rested her cheek on her hand and countered, "Which side do you want me to pick?"
"I..."
Muen’s eyes darted around. "I want you to bet on 'No'."
"Oh? Why?" Anna asked. "Don't you want me to believe in you?"
"Of course I want you to believe in me," Muen said, crossing his hands under his chin with a serious expression. "But I want you to lose your money even less."
"...Giggle. You don't miss a single chance to flirt, do you? You really are a scumbag."
Anna playfully tapped Muen’s head with her book and laughed. "Have a little more confidence in yourself, young man."
"I’m trying," Muen sighed. "But I was talking big back then. Now that I’ve cooled down, it really does seem difficult to achieve."
"So, are you going to give up?" Anna tilted her head. "Actually, the 60 you mentioned at the very beginning was already a remarkable goal."
"Give up?"
Muen lowered his head, staring at the table.
The tabletop used for experiments was made of metal and had been cleaned by Anna until it was spotless. Like a bronze mirror, it faintly reflected his image.
The blond man in the reflection was well-dressed and handsome, yet Muen felt he looked pathetic.
He couldn't do anything. He couldn't change anything. Not for himself, and not for others.
Compared to Amon, he felt more like a dog.
"Who said anything about giving up?"
Muen clenched his fist, as if carving the words into his heart one by one. "I won't give up. Never!"
"Is that so?"
As if she had expected this answer, Anna snapped her fingers. A thick stack of books appeared before Muen.
"These are..."
"Workbooks," Anna said. "Since your goal has changed, our study method must change as well. We can't just limit ourselves to memorizing and reviewing basic knowledge. You must do a massive amount of practice based on the types of questions and formats that might appear on the exam. After all, the exam won't be strictly limited to what’s in the textbook."
"I see." Muen realized. "The 'Sea of Tactics' approach. How nostalgic."
"Nostalgic?" Anna raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Have you done this before?"
"Haha, maybe in a dream..."
Facing Anna’s confusion, Muen could only give a hollow laugh and brush it off. After all, he couldn't exactly say that in his past life, he’d already experienced the "Sea of Tactics" for the most important exam of his life—the Gaokao.
But it was very similar.
This exam, just like the Gaokao, would be a turning point that decided his future.
"In that case, there’s nothing to fear."
He’d already been through it once, hadn't he? Once you've experienced something for the first time, the second time isn't nearly as panic-inducing. You just need to follow the plan and move forward step by step.
So...
"Come on, Senior! Don't pity this delicate flower! Ravish me!" Muen said with a look of total surrender.
"Is that so? Then don't come crying to me later."
Anna gripped a pointer she’d produced from somewhere and gave it a light swish, a mischievous grin on her face. "Teacher Anna is very strict, you know."
*
Night.
In the dormitory.
The Glowstone Muen had bought at a high price emitted a bright light, illuminating the entire room.
In the dormitory building opposite his, only a few rooms belonging to upperclassmen still showed faint glimmers of light; the rest had long since fallen into darkness.
The night was deep, but Muen was still studying by the lamp.
Finally, unable to bear the aching in his eyes, he stopped and applied a hot towel to them. Judging by the hot water prepared nearby, he had repeated this many times.
"It seems the human body really does have its limits," Muen muttered, rubbing his temples and feeling the warmth on his face. He couldn't help but sigh.
Even with the body of a Second-Tier Martial Artist, he couldn't handle studying all day. Fragile parts like his eyes were already protesting.
"If only there were a way to ignore physical fatigue..."
Muen thought for a moment, then suddenly jolted awake.
"Wait... I think I actually do have a way!"
Muen didn't even bother with the wet towel that fell to the floor. He immediately sank his consciousness deep within.
The Black Book Space.
This time, there was no maid assassin, nor were there any naked adventurers. It wasn't even pitch black anymore.
Under Muen’s conscious control, the scene had transformed into... the Ancient Potions classroom.
The blue curtains Anna liked swayed gently, though outside the window was a void of darkness where nothing could be seen.
Touching the cold metal tabletop, Muen couldn't help but smile. "This is the only place where I can truly feel at ease."
After a brief moment of sentiment, Muen focused his mind, and the workbook he had been working on appeared before him.
"Practice brings true knowledge. Let’s give it a try."
Muen plunged back into his studies.
A long time passed.
When Muen finally emerged from his intense focus, he glanced at the time and checked his physical state. He couldn't hide his joy.
"I’ve been studying for three hours straight. As expected, the body doesn't get tired in the Black Book Space."
It made sense when he thought about it. What moved in the Black Book Space was Muen’s consciousness, so it consumed mental energy. His physical body didn't accumulate fatigue. In fact, while he was studying in the Black Book, his physical body was getting plenty of rest.
As for his mental energy... thanks to his long-term training and combat in the Black Book Space, Muen’s mental strength far exceeded that of an ordinary person. After all, how could someone who had died countless times not have a resilient spirit?
"This means I can compress my sleep time to the absolute minimum!" Muen’s eyes lit up.
He didn't need sleep to eliminate physical fatigue. He only needed about two hours of deep sleep a day to replenish his mental energy. This was equivalent to giving him an extra four hours of study time every single day!
Muen clenched his fist in excitement.
Indeed, only effort would never betray a person.
The previous battles had seemed useless, but in the end, they had rewarded him in an unexpected way. They allowed his seemingly unreachable goal to finally emit a glimmer of light in the darkness.
*
"However, just grinding through questions without knowing if I'm right or wrong isn't very efficient."
As he continued, Muen felt something was off.
In this world, the subject of magic was ultimately intended for nobles and geniuses. Although a system had been formed, it wasn't as universally standardized as subjects in his previous world.
For example, the workbooks Anna had collected from somewhere weren't official editions; they were more like a compilation of past exams and teacher assignments. Some parts were even handwritten. Consequently, there was no such thing as an answer key.
The point of the "Sea of Tactics" wasn't just to do a massive amount of practice regardless of quality; it was to find one's mistakes and unmastered points through constant practice, then quickly refine and consolidate one's knowledge.
If he didn't even know if he was wrong, he couldn't achieve the latter. He would just be increasing his speed and familiarity. And for Muen right now, speed and familiarity were useless.
"But if I wait until tomorrow for Senior to grade them..."
Setting aside whether Anna had the time and energy, the efficiency would be the complete opposite of what Muen was aiming for.
He had to find another solution.
Muen rubbed his chin in thought.
His first idea was to hire a few "tutors" specifically to grade his work. He certainly didn't lack the money. But hiring tutors would take time, and he might not even find suitable ones. That was a last resort.
Muen continued to think.
As he pondered, his gaze wandered around the room and caught the deep darkness outside the window as the blue curtains swayed.
Darkness... Black...
A flash of inspiration hit him.
"Black Book!"
At Muen’s call, the Black Book slowly manifested.
But this time, its slow appearance seemed... a bit reluctant?
Muen didn't overthink it and excitedly pulled the Black Book toward him.
"You can do it, right, Black Book?" He patted the workbook. "Help me grade these!"
【...】
The Black Book remained silent.
"I know you can." Seeing no movement, Muen’s gaze sharpened. "Your ability is recording, isn't it? You even know the weaknesses of Evil Gods. I don't believe you don't know the first-year curriculum for Magic Basic Theory!"
【...】
"I still haven't settled the score with you for changing my fate without telling me last time."
【Sigh.】
The familiar, heavy sigh echoed.
The pages of the workbooks Muen had finished began to flip rapidly. Then, after every question, a tiny "✓" or a tiny "×" appeared.
"Thank you!"
Overjoyed, Muen quickly flipped back to the first questions he’d done and began to analyze his mistakes.
But as he worked, he suddenly turned back to the Black Book with a serious expression. "What were the basic contents of the Magic Syllogism again?"
【...】
The Black Book helplessly flipped its pages, and an explanation identical to the one in the textbook appeared before Muen.
"Thanks! Love ya!"
Muen almost wanted to hug the Black Book and give it a kiss.
It might not be a "good teacher," but it was certainly a "good textbook." If there was something he didn't know, he just had to look, and the knowledge would appear without him even having to search for it. Who wouldn't love a textbook like that?
*
Through the long night, Muen studied with total concentration.
The Black Book floated by his side, occasionally flipping to reveal knowledge from the textbook or records of Anna’s lectures.
Muen progressed at lightning speed.
At this stage, he didn't even seem to realize that he could have used the Black Book to cheat and pass the exam with ease. Or rather, the option of cheating had never even entered his mind.
*
"You're late."
In the Student Council Room, Celicia looked at Wei'er, who had rushed in with dew still clinging to her hair. "Fifteen minutes late," Celicia said expressionlessly.
"Hehe... President, have mercy..." Wei'er stuck out her tongue and pleaded. "I was questioning that Amon fellow until late last night, so I overslept."
"Is that so? But when I went to see Amon just now, he said you slipped away at eight o'clock last night."
"Uh..." Wei'er’s face stiffened. She began to wonder if she should kneel and beg for mercy or grab the President’s leg to save her beloved novels.
"Forget it." This time, Celicia didn't press the issue. "Go brew me a cup of coffee."
"Right away!" Wei'er felt as if she’d been granted a divine pardon and moved nimbly.
Before long, the aroma of coffee filled the room.
Celicia stood with her hands behind her back, looking out the window.
Autumn was deepening. Sycamore leaves fell one after another, paving a golden river on the quiet path. If one stepped on them, they would surely make a crisp sound. It was beautiful, but in the silent morning, no one passed by.
"How many days has it been?" Celicia suddenly asked.
"Five days, I think." Wei'er thought Celicia was asking about the Amon situation. As she brewed the coffee, she grumbled, "That Amon is really an idiot. He actually dared to drink a potion given to him by a stranger. And he didn't even see what they looked like. It’s infuriating. If he were a bit smarter, we wouldn't be this busy, right, President?"
"He is a bit of an idiot." Celicia withdrew her gaze, though it was unclear who she was referring to. "But after not seeing him out for his morning run these past few days, I’m actually finding it a bit strange."
*
"Ariel!"
On the way to class, Liya stared at the dazed Ariel beside her, a hint of confusion in her bright eyes. "You've been acting very strange lately!"
"Eh? Have I?" Ariel snapped out of it and blinked. "You're imagining things."
"I am not! You zone out in class, you wander around in a daze, and you're often smiling like an idiot at a Voice Transmission Stone!" Liya’s expression became serious. "You aren't still thinking about that woman from before, are you? Didn't the professors say she was a fake?"
"No, absolutely not!" Ariel said decisively. She took Liya’s hand and said affectionately, "Right now, I only have eyes for you, Liya."
"Oh, stop it." Liya’s cheeks flushed, her expression shy. Since Ariel had put it that way, she would forgive her.
But just as she was about to say something, she noticed Ariel’s gaze was drawn elsewhere again.
"That’s..."
Following her gaze, she saw a blond man sitting under the shade of a tree, focused intently on the book in his hand. He was muttering something and occasionally marking the pages with a pen.
"Muen Campbell." Liya recognized the man. "I heard he made a bold claim that he’d score an 80 on the next Magic Basic Theory exam. I wonder if it’s true."
"Hmph, just seeking attention," Ariel sneered. "He only got a three in that class last semester, and now he wants an 80? He’s only starting to work hard now? Impossible. He’d be lucky to pass a first-year exam."
"True. But this matter has been the talk of the school lately. I see a lot of people discussing it. Oh, right." As if remembering something, Liya suddenly said, "Did you join the betting pool, Ariel?"
"Hmm? Why do you ask?"
"Because I figured you're the type of person who’d join in on the fun."
"..." Ariel was silent for a moment, then her lips curled into a wicked smile. "As expected of Liya, you know me well. But I’m just playing around. I only put in two hundred Emiels."
"Two hundred? But isn't that your entire food budget for the week?" Liya said worriedly. "I remember last time you also bet your food money and ended up eating black bread for a week. If you keep this up, you'll be malnourished. Your chest might actually shrink!"
"It will not!" Ariel was outraged, then said with full confidence, "Last time, I forgot that Muen Campbell had a powerful father, so I made a mistake. But this time is different!"
After all, even a teacher who was extremely skilled in magic had said it was impossible. So it was definitely impossible!
"Just you wait. This time, I’ll win back everything I lost last time, plus my food money!" Ariel laughed, hands on her hips.
"But... but the current odds are one to twenty. Most people are like you, Ariel—they don't believe Muen Campbell can do it. So even if you win, you won't make much money," Liya said cautiously.
"..." Ariel’s smile froze. Then, she erupted in grief and rage: "Damn you, Muen Campbell!"
*
"I've decided! I'm betting all of this month's allowance!"
In the Magic Painting Club, a young girl with twin tails suddenly pulled out her piggy bank and said huffily, "One to twenty? Who do those people think they are? Is Muen really that pathetic in their eyes? They think he can't do it, but I believe he can!"
"Exactly! I'm betting all my allowance too."
"Let's crush those snobs! Long live our idol!"
The other two girls chimed in, looking as if they were ready to roll up their sleeves and fight Muen’s haters themselves.
"Emma, Alva, Amy."
Nearby, Senior Fanny looked at the three girls helplessly and sighed. "Calm down. It’s not that we don't believe in Muen Campbell, but the goal he set is just too difficult. Even the teachers think it’s impossible."
"So what!" Emma slammed the table in anger. "True love is invincible! Long live our idol! If I say Muen can do it, he can do it!"
"Exactly!"
"Agreed!"
"..."
Looking at the three girls who were so fired up they seemed ready to beat her up if she said another bad word about Muen, Fanny’s lip twitched.
Fangirls are truly terrifying.
But then, she couldn't help but wonder... should she also bet a little on Muen Campbell, just for fun? If she lost, it wouldn't hurt much, but if she won... a twenty-fold return was indeed very tempting.
And... what if those girls were right? What if?
*
After the Silent Moon invasion, no other major incidents occurred. The Academy seemed to have finally entered a long period of peace.
The leisurely daily life Muen had hoped for had finally arrived, but he himself had no time to enjoy it.
This period was extremely productive.
Aside from two hours of sleep, half an hour for meals, and one hour for miscellaneous tasks (showering, commuting, etc.), Muen devoted nearly all his time to Magic Basic Theory.
He even attended a few of Professor Fran’s classes after catching up with Anna’s tutoring. He didn't sit in a prominent spot, but instead chose a secluded corner by the window, listening intently to Fran’s lectures and cross-referencing them with what Anna had taught him to deepen his understanding.
Occasionally, he would raise his hand to ask a question. Professor Fran, who was no longer so afraid of him, would explain his doubts in detail and with great care. It had to be said that aside from being easily agitated, Fran was indeed a good teacher.
However, for some reason, whenever he sat by the window, Ariel would give him several fierce glares. This left him puzzled, wondering when he had offended her again.
*
Time flowed on.
Finally, it was the day before the exam.
In the Ancient Potions classroom, Anna closed her book, announcing the end of their final lesson.
"Alright, all the lessons are finished. You should take a rest, Junior."
"No need. I'm not tired yet."
Muen didn't pay her much mind. As soon as the lesson ended, he immediately opened his workbook and began grinding through questions without a moment’s pause.
Anna lowered her eyes, quietly observing Muen.
His beautiful blond hair had grown quite a bit, but it was clear he hadn't groomed it in a long time. It covered his ears and eyebrows, giving him a somewhat unkempt appearance.
His uniform was disheveled, riddled with unpressed wrinkles, and even his cravat sat askew—a state of dress unthinkable for a son of the high nobility.
As for his handsome face, though his complexion remained healthy, the exhaustion in his eyes was plain to see. It was a spiritual fatigue—the lingering toll of a stubborn soul that had refused to stop its relentless forward march for even a single moment.
"Come to think of it, Junior Muen, it’s been quite a while since we last had a club activity."
"Huh? Right now?" Muen looked up, dazed.
"Right now." Anna nodded earnestly, looking for all the world like a mischievous little girl pestering an adult for sweets, regardless of the time or place.
"Well... alright then."
Whether out of logic or sentiment, Muen found himself unable to refuse his senior’s small request. He could only offer a wry smile. "Then please, make it quick, Senior. I’m on a very tight schedule. The exam is tomorrow, and I still need to go over the key points one last time."
"It’ll be over in a flash. It’s just a potion, after all."
Anna gave a soft chuckle. As if she had planned this all along, she produced a black bottle—its contents hidden from view—and set it down before him. "Drink up."
"This... it won't have any terrifying side effects, will it?" Muen was still haunted by the memory of the last time.
"Don't worry. Nothing will go wrong this time. I promise."
"Alright..."
Whether out of trust for his senior or a desperate desire to get back to his books, Muen didn't even bother asking what the potion did. He simply downed it in a single gulp.
"There, that should—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Muen’s vision began to blur. Then, with a dull thud, he collapsed onto the desk.
Moments later, the sound of rhythmic snoring filled the air. He had fallen into a deep, peaceful slumber—the likes of which he hadn't known for an entire month.
In the silence of the Ancient Magic Potion Classroom, Anna rested her chin in her hand and watched him. She couldn't resist reaching out to gently stroke his hair.
"Rest well for a while, Junior. You’ve worked hard enough."