Chapter 639: Why They Call It a Lucky Draw Again
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 639: Why They Call It a Lucky Draw Again
"Ha... I can't believe I actually fell asleep in a place like this. But man, that was a good nap."
Muen opened his eyes. A slightly piercing light flooded his vision, quickly jolting his mind awake. It wasn't sunlight, but the warm glow of magic stones illuminating the VIP lounge.
He still held a soft, fragrant beauty in his arms. The girl’s delicate scent lingered at the tip of his nose. Celicia’s small head was resting against his chest, her slender, smooth hands hooked around his neck.
Muen couldn't help but pinch her soft cheek and plant a light kiss on her forehead. No matter how cold or like an ice queen a woman might be normally, she would always reveal a touch of feminine tenderness when lying against a man’s chest.
Because of this, Muen secretly convinced himself that it wasn't a lack of willpower on his part. It was just that this little iceberg in his arms was simply too charming when she started to melt.
Imagine a woman who was usually cold, ruthless, and decisive, suddenly acting like a little rabbit—unconsciously leaning against your chest after falling asleep, even nuzzling you every now and then...
Who could possibly resist that?
Of course, the exhaustion from working too hard the previous night definitely played a part as well.
"Still, it’s for the best. Now that I’ve had some rest, I can face the upcoming matches with more composure... Wait, the matches!"
Muen finally remembered his actual business. He bolted upright and whipped his head around to look at the wall clock.
At some point, the hour hand had already passed the highest point and begun its descent. This meant...
"It’s already this late? Based on the schedule, doesn't that mean I..."
"Yes, exactly. The first round of matches is already over."
As Muen rushed out of the room, he saw a beautiful, mature woman in a professional suit and gold-rimmed glasses waiting silently outside. Although she hadn't entered the room, she wore an expression of utter speechlessness, looking like she’d been force-fed enough dog food to last a lifetime.
"You are... Dean Hathaway?"
"Indeed, I am the Dean."
Hathaway pushed up her golden glasses, revealing a mysterious smile that Muen found strangely familiar.
"It’s not like this is our first time meeting. Don't tell me Student Muen has already forgotten what I look like?"
"Oh, it really is you..."
Muen didn't want to dwell on his embarrassing past and quickly changed the subject. "Since the match time has already passed, why didn't you wake me, Dean?"
"His Majesty ordered that no one was to disturb you. What choice did I have?"
"..."
Muen’s lips twitched. That order certainly carried Celicia’s signature overbearing style.
As expected, the 'dere' side of a stubborn tsundere only comes out in private.
"Then what do I do? I missed my match."
"Nothing to be done. Just get ready for the second round. The drawing for the second round is about to begin."
"Eh?"
Muen froze.
"Me? Participate in the second round? I didn't even do the first one."
"Consider yourself lucky, kid."
Hathaway stared at Muen’s handsome face and said meaningfully, "Your opponent for this round was injured for certain reasons and couldn't participate. Naturally, you advanced to the second round by default."
"Huh? Injured?"
Muen paused. "...Really?"
"Would I lie to you?"
"But that’s too convenient. Is my luck really that good?"
Muen scratched his head in confusion. He secretly wondered if this was another bizarre conspiracy. Otherwise, with his luck as a 'child abandoned by heaven,' how could something this good happen to him?
But on second thought, aside from making him look like a guy who won without fighting and inviting public ridicule, this so-called "conspiracy" didn't seem to have any real teeth.
"Even the unluckiest person has their day. Who knows, maybe your good luck will continue."
Hathaway patted Muen on the shoulder. "Hurry along. You can't be late for the second round draw. His Majesty won't be there to help you this time."
"Hmm? His Majesty helped me?"
Muen was puzzled, but Hathaway clearly had no intention of explaining. She knocked on the door, and after receiving a response from Celicia inside, she let herself in.
"Whatever... I'll just ask Celicia directly later."
Muen shook his head and stopped wasting time, heading straight for the drawing area.
*
Hathaway entered the VIP lounge.
"How were the results?"
Celicia let out a yawn, smoothing out her long dress, which had become slightly wrinkled from her sleeping posture.
"The first round has come to a close. As expected, that Seventeenth Prince possesses truly terrifying talent."
"What talent?"
"The legendary Innate Twin Hearts."
"Innate Twin Hearts?"
Celicia frowned slightly as she took the documents Hathaway handed over.
To Hathaway’s surprise, Celicia only gave the files a cursory glance before tossing them aside.
"I see. Understood."
"Your Majesty... aren't you going to take this a bit more seriously? After all, it's Innate Twin Hearts. He’s guaranteed to be a powerhouse in the future."
"A powerhouse? So what?"
Celicia sat back on the sofa and picked up the apple that had been set aside. She gave a cold smile.
"Talent without actual combat experience makes for nothing but a paper tiger. The Kingdom has protected him far too well. Does he truly believe the world operates solely on talent? Ridiculous."
*
The atmosphere at the arena remained electric.
Despite the two-hour break, the audience's enthusiasm hadn't waned in the slightest.
After all, in a competition of elite geniuses, seeing "peerless talents" who could finish their opponents in under three minutes was rare even in past international exchange events. Today, two had appeared at once.
This made everyone even more eager for the upcoming matches.
Especially the clashes between the heavyweights.
"Looks like... I missed some pretty incredible stuff."
Muen noticed the crowd's abnormal excitement. It made sense, though. Between a Seventeenth Prince who had been hidden away by the Kingdom for over a decade and a 'Soaring Phoenix' protagonist blessed by destiny, the morning matches were bound to be anything but boring.
The upcoming matches would surely be even more intense.
At that thought, Muen felt a rare surge of competitive fire.
"Muen Campbell."
Suddenly, on his way to the draw, a somewhat familiar voice called out to him.
It was "somewhat familiar" because he had only heard it once, not long ago.
"Prince Milne?"
Muen stopped and looked at the approaching Kingdom prince.
He was still as dashing as ever, every movement oozing confidence. He would occasionally nod to the cheering girls in the stands, acting as if all the world's glory naturally belonged to him.
"Well?" he asked.
"...Well what?" Muen was lost.
"I'm referring to the morning matches."
Milne frowned slightly, seemingly annoyed that Muen couldn't understand such a simple question.
"My match. How was my performance?"
"...Oh, that match!"
Muen squeezed out a stiff, aristocratic smile.
What match? He hadn't seen a single second of it since he was busy napping with the Empress. However, it would be incredibly rude to tell a prince that he hadn't bothered to watch, so he could only offer a perfunctory response.
"Impressive! Truly impressive! Your Highness Milne’s performance was absolutely outstanding!"
"Is that so?"
Milne saw right through Muen’s hypocrisy and said displeasedly, "Are those your honest words?"
"Of course! Truer than diamonds!"
"Hmph. You were lucky before, managing to advance without even fighting. But I hope that once you can no longer use those despicable methods, you can keep acting this tough." Milne let out a cold snort.
"Huh?"
When was I acting tough?
Wasn't I just praising you?
And what 'despicable methods' is he talking about? Is taking a nap with the Empress considered despicable now?
Muen was once again baffled by this idiotic Seventeenth Prince’s shocking statements. But before he could ask anything else, Milne—who seemed to find breathing the same air as Muen beneath him—brushed past with a look of disdain and headed toward the drawing area first.
"...How bizarre."
After standing there stunned for a moment, Muen shook his head and followed him inside.
*
The drawing took place in a special room. To ensure fairness, the area was sealed off; no outsiders could peek in until the results were finalized.
Upon entering, Muen began looking around.
It seemed he was the last to arrive again.
The participants who had advanced to the second round were: Milne, Seviel, Cordes, and Floris from the Kingdom side; Ariel and Marshall from the Empire’s St. Maria Academy side.
Including himself, that made exactly seven.
Muen looked at the data he’d swiped from Celicia, comparing the names to the unfamiliar faces from the Kingdom. He sighed inwardly, realizing the Academy was indeed at a disadvantage this time.
"Even Senior Fanny lost?"
This was genuinely unexpected. In Muen’s eyes, with Fanny’s strength, she should have at least made it to the second round.
That was until he saw the name of her opponent: Milne Rhodest.
"I see."
Muen murmured, "So that guy actually has the strength to back up his arrogance?"
...Even if his brain didn't seem to work quite right.
*
"Due to time constraints, the rules for this exchange competition will be simplified," the teacher in charge of the draw explained bluntly.
"There are seven participants in the second round. It will be a random draw for head-to-head matches. However, because of the odd number of participants, there will be one special lot in this round..."
"A bye?"
"Yes, a bye."
The teacher glanced at Muen. "The person who draws the bye will automatically advance to the top four. Everyone else will compete as usual."
The group remained calm. No one had much to say about it; with fourteen original participants narrowed down to seven, a bye was inevitable in a tournament format.
Muen, however, subconsciously rubbed his chin.
He thought back to his earlier luck... The odds were low, but could it be...
"The bye goes to—Muen Campbell!"
As the teacher’s voice rang out, everyone froze, including Muen.
For real...
Muen looked at his own hand. To have two strokes of good luck in a row... had he finally shed his old misfortune and stepped onto the path of a 'Gacha God'?
Thinking back to how he’d exhausted all his life's luck on a single five-legendary pull and got hit by a truck into another world, Muen was moved to tears. He finally had his day.
"Nonsense! Who the hell would believe this is luck?"
Suddenly, Cordes from the Kingdom side jumped out, fuming.
"Advancing twice in a row without even stepping into the arena? You call that luck? Isn't this just blatant corruption right in front of our faces—"
"Student."
The teacher interrupted Cordes, saying coldly, "The drawing followed all the rules and relied entirely on individual luck. It is perfectly within the realm of possibility for Muen Campbell to draw the bye. Do not make baseless accusations without evidence."
"But—"
"That’s enough, Cordes."
Milne pulled Cordes back and shook his head. "Stop making a scene."
"I just can't stand it..."
"It doesn't matter."
Milne gave a cold laugh, his arrogant gaze sweeping over Muen as if looking at a pathetic worm.
"The more he uses these petty tricks, the more it highlights the insecurity in his heart. So what if he advances directly to the next round? It only means he might run straight into my hands. That suits my plans perfectly. When the time comes, I’ll make him regret his little schemes!"
"Your... Your Highness is mighty!"
Cordes looked excited. "Please, you must teach him a lesson and humiliate him in front of everyone. Do it for Yate!"
"Don't worry, I will!"
Milne straightened his collar. "That is exactly why I am here."
"..."
The Kingdom group, looking as if they couldn't stand breathing the same air as a despicable coward, left without looking back. Only Seviel gave Muen a slightly apologetic nod before following them out.
Muen was left standing there, bewildered. He racked his brain but couldn't figure out what kind of madness had gripped the Kingdom lot.
What 'schemes'? What 'insecurity'? What 'little tricks'?
And wasn't that guy Yate the one who didn't even fight him? Why was that being blamed on him too?
It was utterly confusing.
"Do you know what they're talking about?" Muen asked Ariel.
"Who knows? Maybe you did something else to offend heaven and man again."
Ariel crossed her arms and shrugged, acting like it was none of her business.
"Is that so?"
Muen fell into deep thought.
Since when was sleeping with one's fiancée considered an offense against heaven and man?
If he held a few more in the future... would he just get struck by lightning?
*
Muen learned his lesson this time. He didn't go back to cuddle with his fiancée. Instead, he found a seat in the stands, prepared to observe the matches properly.
But to his disappointment... the second round was incredibly boring.
Compared to his "lucky draw" of a bye, the others weren't so fortunate—at least from a spectator's perspective.
Match one: Ariel vs. Cordes. A total stomp. Still traumatized by Barlow’s fate, Cordes was filled with fear from the start. Ariel chased him around the ring, and he was beaten beyond recognition without putting up any meaningful resistance.
Match two: Milne vs. Floris. Since they were both from the Kingdom, the girl named Floris had clearly received instructions. She didn't want to waste Milne’s stamina in a pointless internal struggle, so she surrendered immediately.
Match three: Seviel vs. Marshall. This was the most exciting match of the three. Unfortunately, Marshall’s raw strength was lacking. He held on for over ten minutes but ultimately lost.
The top four were decided just like that: Milne and Ariel, who were carrying the hopes of their respective sides; the formidable Seviel; and Muen Campbell, who had coasted into the semifinals without fighting a single match...
For some reason, despite not fighting, Muen Campbell’s name was being cheered the loudest.
Aside from the national rivalry, Muen caught a glimpse of "The Three Little Ones" in the audience...
*
Back in the drawing room.
Without the noisy Cordes, the atmosphere felt incredibly oppressive.
Ariel had her arms crossed, staring at Seviel’s large chest with an unfriendly gaze. From the moment he entered, Milne’s undisguised, aggressive stare was pinned firmly on Muen.
"This time, you have nowhere to run, Muen Campbell."
"...When did I ever run?"
Muen was speechless. He didn't pay much attention to Milne, though; instead, he stole a glance at Seviel.
It was strange. Seviel had been so enthusiastic during the Holy City Trial, so why was she acting so reserved now?
Was it because there were others around?
Whatever. He didn't have much of a relationship with her anyway. Given that his "Triple Calamity" hadn't been resolved yet, it was probably better if she stayed away from him.
Muen shook his head, clearing his mind, and focused on the draw.
Only four people left.
For him, a "good draw" would be facing the slightly weaker Seviel, which would make for an easier path to the finals.
A "bad draw" would be fighting Milne—whose strength was unknown but clearly immense...
Based on past experience, whenever Muen relied on his own luck for a draw, he almost always ended up with the worst possible outcome.
But this time...
"I’ve been lucky for two rounds already. It’s only natural for the streak to continue!" Muen flashed a confident smile.
Come to me, my Gacha God hand!
*
One minute later.
Muen stared blankly at the result in his hand.
Semifinal Match 1: Milne vs. Seviel.
Semifinal Match 2: Muen Campbell vs... Ariel Bugard!
"Wait... this isn't right. An internal match in the semifinals...?" Muen’s lip twitched.
"Isn't this normal? It’s a random draw," the teacher said, expressionless as ever. "You’ve had internal matches before."
No, this is different! We haven't even taken down the Seventeenth Prince yet, and I have to fight Ariel first? This wasn't the plan!
"An internal match?"
Milne scoffed. "Muen Campbell, is this your so-called good luck? It seems it has saved your life once again."
"..."
Good luck...
What good luck?
Out of the three possibilities, I literally pulled the single worst outcome!
I’d rather fight you, you brain-dead prince!
In the end, was he still suffering from the backlash of fate? It seemed being a 'Gacha God' was nothing more than an unreachable dream...
And to face Ariel so suddenly...
Muen shivered. Sensing something, he slowly turned his head.
Behind him, Ariel was still staring at the result in her hand. As she finally processed the meaning of the draw, her lips slowly curled into her trademark, reckless smirk.
Ariel’s eyes had turned sharp!