Chapter 125: The Result
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 125: The Result
"Is it over?"
In the sun-drenched classroom, Muen looked at Professor Prang, still feeling a bit dazed.
It felt like waking from a grand dream. The contents of the exam flashed through his mind like end-credits in a movie—already blurring, yet leaving behind a profound sense of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart.
"Yes, it’s over. Muen Campbell, you did well. Better than I imagined."
Professor Prang’s gaze swept over the test paper in front of Muen. His expression remained unreadable, but his voice had softened considerably.
He patted Muen on the shoulder and urged, "Go on now. Stop daydreaming."
"Oh."
Muen nodded blankly and stood up, still in a trance.
He didn't know how he walked out of the classroom, how he pushed through the surrounding crowd, or how he made it back to his dormitory.
By the time he snapped out of it, he was already sitting at his desk, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a long, long time.
"Now... what should I do next?"
When a goal one has pursued with all their might suddenly reaches a temporary conclusion, a profound sense of emptiness often follows.
It felt as though something was missing from his heart, leaving it hollow.
But he quickly regained his composure.
"Is that even a question?" Muen whispered to himself.
In his jewel-blue eyes, the old fires had died out, only for new ones to ignite.
"My goal is still far from being reached, isn't it?"
With that, his consciousness sank into darkness.
Within that darkness, the assassin in the maid outfit and the naked man appeared simultaneously.
"It’s been a month. I’ve actually missed you both."
Muen snapped his fingers. "For a reunion like this, how about a more festive setting?"
The darkness dissipated, replaced by bright sunshine.
Bathed in infinite radiance, Muen gripped his twin blades.
He grinned. "Come. Let’s see how much I’ve regressed over this past month!"
*
"Is it over? If it's over, let me see!"
After the exam, Professor Prang returned to his office with the test papers, only to find it packed with teachers looking for gossip.
Even Professor Kade, who usually turned his nose up at anything involving magic, was tucked away in a corner, waiting for the results with an air of curiosity.
In this academy, gossiping and "eating melons" wasn't a privilege reserved only for students.
The moment Professor Glen saw Prang, he abandoned all decorum and lunged to snatch the papers.
"Can you all at least try to act like professors?"
Prang slapped Glen’s hand away, sounding annoyed. "It’s one thing for the students, but for you lot to be this gossipy? What is the world coming to?"
"Someone personally went down to proctor the exam, and yet he has the nerve to lecture us?"
"I was merely ensuring the fairness of the examination!"
"Ho! Then why don't you personally proctor every single exam from now on?"
Glen let out a whistle, completely unfazed by Prang’s irritation. Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in Prang's attention, he snatched the papers away.
"Let’s see... Muen Campbell, Campbell..."
Glen flipped through the papers rapidly, accurately pulling out Muen’s and handing it to Professor Fran, who looked to be in peak physical condition.
"Professor Fran, quick, grade it! I want to see the result!"
"This... might not be appropriate."
Professor Fran hesitated, glancing at Professor Prang.
While grading early wouldn't change the outcome, it was technically against the rules... and Professor Prang was notoriously stiff about such things.
"Grade it," Prang said, unexpectedly relenting. "There’s no need to fuss over such a small matter."
"Eh?"
Even Professor Glen was surprised. He stared suspiciously at Prang for a long while. "You’ve been acting weird since you got back from proctoring. Bad mood? Did that Muen kid get under your skin again?"
"Did he?" Prang replied expressionlessly.
"Of course he did. Since when are you this easy to talk to?"
"And if I weren't, would you have listened to me anyway?"
"Heh, fair point."
Glen didn't press further, as his attention was quickly drawn back to Muen’s test.
"Quick, Professor Fran, grade it. Prang gave the okay."
"Oh, alright!"
With Prang’s permission, Fran no longer hesitated and immediately began grading Muen’s paper.
The other teachers crowded around curiously.
As the grading progressed, Professor Glen kept shouting out commentary.
"Oho, he got the first five questions all right? The kid’s got some skill."
"Aya, the sixth question was so simple, how did he get it wrong..."
"The thirteenth question seems to have been a bit much for him. Must have taken a lot of time."
"Hah! He skipped the last big essay question entirely. Smart move."
The hundred-point exam didn't have much content, so the grading was finished quickly.
The final score soon appeared before the eyes of every teacher.
The office fell silent.
Everyone was stunned into silence.
They looked at the score and said nothing.
It was only after a long while that a teacher sighed and shook their head.
"It’s... seventy-nine. What a pity."
Indeed.
Seventy-nine.
That was the number stamped at the top of the paper.
Bright red and clear, it was as eyesore as it was real.
It was a single point away from the line, yet he had failed to cross it.
A margin of a hair’s breadth is always more heartbreaking than a wide gap.
Even Professor Glen lost his smile as he looked at the number.
"Can we only say... it was bad luck?"
A score of seventy-nine could hardly be called a lack of ability.
From a three to a seventy-nine.
Just from the massive gulf between those two numbers, every teacher present could clearly feel the hardship and effort the boy had poured in over this short month.
With toil and sweat, he had created a miracle that almost everyone had deemed impossible.
But that only made it more regrettable.
That one-point difference felt like a cruel little joke played by the Goddess of Fate.
"Give me the paper."
While everyone was wallowing in pity for the boy, Professor Prang suddenly reached out and took the test.
His eyes swept over the paper rapidly, and then, as if confirming something, he pointed to a specific spot.
"Here. This was marked incorrectly."
"Eh?"
Professor Fran blinked and looked where Prang was pointing.
Her beautiful eyes widened, and her face instantly flushed crimson.
"Ah! You’re right... I’m... I’m so sorry! I really did mark it wrong. I must have been nervous with so many people watching me grade..."
"Correct it."
Prang remained expressionless, showing no sign of blame.
He simply watched silently as Fran re-graded the question and recalculated the score.
Actually, there was no need for calculation.
Seventy-nine plus one—even a beggar on the street could do that math.
Eighty.
The "Excellent" level.
Silence returned to the office.
They had just been feeling pity, but now that the number was actually before them, they couldn't help but feel a sense of shock.
As teachers of St. Maria, they were the elite of the educational world. What kind of students hadn't they seen?
They had seen those who shone like stars only to meet with an accident or fall into depravity, their grades plummeting.
They had seen noble playboys who suddenly woke up, turned their lives around, and climbed to the peak step by step.
But someone like that blond boy, who violently surged from a three to an eighty—an "Excellent" level—in just one month...
To be honest, it was unheard of.
"This could be called a miracle of the educational world," one teacher couldn't help but remark.
"As expected of Muen Campbell. Whether for good or ill, he always finds a way to leave people in awe."
"So, Muen Campbell actually did it. He kept the promise he made a month ago," another teacher realized, clicking their tongue in wonder. "I heard the odds were twenty-to-one. Tsk tsk, I bet there are going to be a lot of students standing on the rooftop today. Should we install some wire mesh on the railings?"
"No—!"
Another teacher wailed in agony. "My bonus! Without you, how am I supposed to live?!"
"..."
Professor Prang glanced at the wailing Professor Kade and said tonelessly, "Hand in a hundred-thousand-word self-reflection by tomorrow. Also, your bonus for this semester is gone."
The wailing grew even more tragic.
However, after the brief commotion, everyone fell quiet again.
Over a dozen pairs of eyes peeked at Professor Prang.
Prang hated Muen Campbell so much... surely he’d be furious right now?
Wait, maybe he was already angry—look at how miserable Kade was for just getting in his way!
If they stayed here any longer...
"Um... I’m feeling a bit unwell. I’ll take my leave now," Professor Fran was the first to excuse herself.
"Right, right, I’m also feeling a bit under the weather..."
"I forgot to turn off the stove at home..."
"My wife is about to give birth..."
A crowd of teachers suddenly developed excellent memories regarding their domestic affairs and slipped away as fast as their legs could carry them.
In the end, only Professor Glen remained. He stared at the expressionless Prang for a long time in the quiet office before finally speaking up.
"I think, as a professor, there’s no need to get angry at a child."
"I am not angry."
"Liar. Look at your face."
"I am not angry," Prang emphasized. Then, he suddenly raised his hand and, under Glen’s shocked gaze, smashed his beloved antique desk into pieces with a single palm strike.
Glen was stunned. After a long pause, he stammered, "Ac... actually, back then, I thought you were joking."
"But I wasn't joking."
Prang picked up a splinter of wood, hesitated for a moment, and then put it in his mouth.
He chewed.
Then he swallowed.
"I never joke."
Then, he picked up another piece and put it in his mouth.
With his constitution as a Crowned, eating a bit of wood wasn't going to kill him.
However, while this expensive mahogany had a natural fragrance, it tasted very bitter.
And his heart ached.
"I am not angry," Prang said again, as if to convince himself.
"Why would I be angry? As an educator, as a teacher, seeing one's student find their way back from the brink and turn their life around—isn't that the most joyful thing possible?"
"I am merely feeling a bit ashamed. Ashamed of my lack of ability, ashamed of my poor judgment. I pride myself on being a veteran educator, yet it wasn't until the exam today that I finally saw what was hidden in that boy's eyes."
"—What a scorching flame that is! Like a lion roaring under the setting sun!"
Prang suddenly clenched his fist, crushing a corner of the desk into powder, and stuffed it into his mouth.
He gritted his teeth, chewing the mahogany with such force it was as if he were trying to squeeze out tears to wash his clouded, unseeing eyes.
"That boy, Muen Campbell... he is not the profligate we thought he was. He is a true son of a Duke, worthy of the Campbell name!"
"No, I have a premonition. His future achievements might even surpass those of his father!"
"Surpass Duke Campbell? The Lion King?"
Professor Glen’s eyes widened. He hadn't expected Prang to suddenly hold Muen Campbell in such high regard.
One must remember that Lorne Campbell was considered one of the most outstanding among all the generations of Campbells.
"That might be a bit too difficult."
"Difficult?"
Prang didn't argue. He simply asked, "Do you know the last time I saw that kind of look in someone's eyes?"
"Who?" Glen was taken aback.
"You’ve met her before."
Prang lowered his eyelids, his voice turning somber. "My other foolish student... the one controlled by the Love God."
The Purification Saintess.
The great Saintess who had been missing for twenty years, yet whose statues still stood and whose followers still remained.
The strong girl who had refused to yield to the Love God until the very end.
"..."
Professor Glen fell silent, even more shocked than before.
After a moment, he asked with a serious expression, "Are you saying... Muen Campbell will also become a Saintess in the future?"
"..."
Prang’s face stiffened. He nearly choked.
Glen, however, gave him a playful pat on the shoulder. "Alright, alright, stop blaming yourself. No matter how excellent a teacher is, it’s impossible to see through every student. At least you didn't hold him back, right?"
"But he’s a genius who can score an eighty in a single month, yet in my hands last semester, he only managed to learn a single Illumination Spell," Prang replied gloomily.
"..."
Glen’s face stiffened as well, and then he said with embarrassed annoyance, "Fine! And you still say you aren't angry!"
"I'm not."
Prang continued to diligently gnaw on the corner of the desk. "And even if Muen Campbell hadn't reached eighty this time, I would have still fulfilled my promise."
"Eh?"
"You forgot. At the start of the semester, I said the same thing. If Muen Campbell truly changed, I would eat my desk."
Prang sighed. "So, from the moment the exam ended, I knew that regardless of the score, I would have to eat this desk."
*
After truly eating the entire desk, Professor Prang left in a hurry, his destination unknown.
Only Professor Glen remained in the office.
As if remembering something, he picked up Muen’s test paper again and examined it closely.
Finally, on the question Prang had just pointed out as being "marked incorrectly," he detected a faint, lingering trace of mana.
"Ho. I knew it. Professor Fran’s realm is high enough that she wouldn't make such a low-level mistake, especially with so many eyes on her."
Professor Glen rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing into a delighted smile.
"That stiff old fossil Prang... even he pulls a little trick like this once in a while."