Chapter 124 : Chapter 124
Volume 2
Chapter 48 : Result
“It’s over?”
In the sunlit classroom, Muen looked at Professor Prang standing before him, still somewhat dazed.
It felt as though he had just woken from a long dream.
The contents of the exam he had just taken flashed through his mind like the rolling credits at the end of a film, already blurred and indistinct, yet he still felt as though something in his heart had been set down at last, leaving him utterly light.
“Yes, it’s over already, Muen Campbell. You did very well—better than I expected.”
Professor Prang’s gaze swept briefly over the exam paper in front of Muen.
Nothing in his expression seemed to change, yet his tone had clearly softened.
He patted Muen on the shoulder and urged him on.
“Hurry along now. Stop spacing out.”
“Oh.”
Muen nodded blankly and rose blankly to his feet.
Muen did not know how he had walked out of the classroom, how he had passed through the crowd of onlookers, or how he had returned to his room.
By the time he came back to himself, he was already seated at his desk, staring at his reflection in the mirror for a very, very long time.
“What should I do next?”
When a goal one had desperately pursued finally came to a temporary end, what rushed in instead was an immense emptiness.
It felt as though something had gone missing from his heart, leaving it hollow.
But he quickly recovered.
“Do I even need to think about a question like that?”
Muen murmured softly to himself.
Within those sapphire-blue eyes, the old flame had only just faded, and a new one was already rising.
“My goal is still far from complete, isn’t it?”
And so, his consciousness sank into darkness.
Within that darkness, the assassin in her maid outfit and the naked man appeared together.
“It’s only been a month, and yet I actually missed you.”
Muen snapped his fingers. “For a reunion after so long, how about we change the setting to something a little more festive?”
At once, the darkness dissolved, replaced by bright sunlight.
Bathed in endless radiance, Muen stood with blades in both hands.
He bared his teeth in a grin.
“Come on then, let’s see how much I’ve regressed in the past month!”
...
...
“So, is it finished? If it is, hurry up and let me take a look!”
After the exam ended, Professor Prang brought the papers back to his office, only to discover that it was already packed with teachers who had gathered to watch the excitement.
Even Teacher Cade, who usually sneered at anything related to magic, was standing in a corner, waiting curiously for the results.
Gossip and a love of drama were by no means the exclusive privilege of the students in this academy.
The moment Professor Gran saw Professor Prang, he immediately dropped all pretense and rushed forward to snatch the papers from his hands.
“Can you people act a little more like teachers?”
Professor Prang slapped Gran’s hand away and snapped irritably,
“The students are bad enough. Why are all of you just as nosy?”
“Says the man who personally went to proctor the exam.”
“I only did it to ensure fairness!”
“Oh? Then why don’t you personally proctor every exam from now on?”
Professor Gran whistled and paid no mind to Professor Prang’s anger.
Instead, taking advantage of a moment of inattention, he snatched the papers away in one swift motion.
“Let me see here. Muen Campbell, Campbell...”
Gran quickly counted through the papers, then precisely pulled out Muen’s exam and handed it to Teacher Flan, who looked perfectly healthy.
“Teacher Flan, quick, quick, grade it! I want to see the result!”
“This... isn’t that a little inappropriate?”
Teacher Flan hesitated, glancing at Professor Prang beside her.
Although grading it early would not affect the result, it still went a bit against the rules...
And Professor Prang had always been rigid and old-fashioned. Something this improper...
“Grade it.”
To everyone’s surprise, Professor Prang gave his permission.
“There’s nothing worth fussing over in something this small.”
“Hm?”
Even Professor Gran was taken aback this time. He stared suspiciously at Professor Prang for a long while.
“What’s wrong with you? Ever since you came back from proctoring, you’ve been acting strange. In a bad mood? Did that brat Muen do something to annoy you again?”
“Did he?”
Professor Prang cast him a flat glance.
“Of course. Would you have been this agreeable?”
“If I weren’t agreeable, would you have listened to me?”
“Heh, that’s true.”
Professor Gran did not press further, because his attention was soon completely drawn to Muen’s paper.
“Come on, Teacher Flan, hurry up and grade it. Prang already agreed.”
“Oh, all right!”
Since Professor Prang had given permission, Teacher Flan no longer had any reason to hesitate.
She immediately picked up Muen’s paper and began grading it.
The other teachers all crowded over as well, curious to see.
As the grading continued, Professor Gran kept blurting things out.
“Oh? He actually got the first five questions all correct? The brat does have some skill.”
“Oh dear, the sixth question was so simple. How did he get that one wrong...?”
“Hm, question thirteen seems to have been a bit difficult for him. He must have spent quite a bit of time on it.”
“Oh-ho, he left the final big question completely blank. Smart.”
The exam was worth one hundred points, and there were not many questions to begin with, so the grading was finished quickly.
And naturally, the score soon appeared before all the teachers.
The office fell silent.
Because everyone had gone quiet.
They stared at that score—and fell silent.
Only after a long while did one teacher sigh and shake his head.
“So it’s... seventy-nine. What a pity.”
That was right.
Seventy-nine.
That was the number now marked at the top of the paper.
Bright red, clear, striking to the eye—yet utterly real.
Only one point away from the line, and yet he had ultimately failed to cross it.
A miss by the smallest margin was always more heartbreaking than falling short by a mile.
Even Professor Gran’s smile faded when he saw that number.
“The only thing you can call it... is bad luck, I suppose?”
Because a score of seventy-nine could not possibly be called a lack of ability.
From three... to seventy-nine.
Just from the enormous gap between those two numbers, every teacher present could clearly sense the hardship and effort that young man had poured in over the course of that short month.
With diligence and sweat, he had created a miracle that almost everyone had believed to be impossible.
And yet, precisely because of that, it made the outcome all the more regretful.
That single point felt like a tiny joke played by the god of Fate on that boy.
“Give me the paper.”
Just as everyone was immersed in regret for the boy, Professor Prang suddenly reached out and took the exam from them.
His gaze swept rapidly over it, then, as though he had confirmed something, he pointed to a certain part of the paper and said,
“This was marked wrong by mistake.”
“Huh?”
Teacher Flan blinked and followed his finger to the place he indicated.
Her beautiful eyes widened, and her pretty face turned bright red all at once.
“Ah, you’re right. I-I’m sorry, I really did mark it wrong. Maybe because so many people were watching me grade it for the first time, I got a little nervous...”
“Fix it.”
Professor Prang remained expressionless, as if he had no intention of blaming her.
He merely watched in silence as Teacher Flan regarded that question and recalculated the score.
Though really, there was nothing to recalculate.
Seventy-nine plus one—even a beggar on the street could work out that answer.
Eighty.
An excellent score.
The office fell silent once more.
They had been lamenting only moments ago, but when that number truly appeared before their eyes, they still could not help but feel shaken.
As teachers of Saint Maria, they were all elites in the field of education.
What kind of students had they not seen?
Students who once shone like light itself, only to suffer a sudden accident or fall willingly into ruin, sending their grades into freefall.
Or wastrel heirs from good families who suddenly came to their senses, turned back in time, and gradually climbed step by step toward the heights.
But someone like that blond boy—someone who, in the space of a single month, had brutally leapt from three points to an excellent score of eighty...
To be honest, it was something none of them had ever heard of.
“This could practically be called a miracle in education.”
One of the teachers could not help sighing in admiration.
“As expected of Muen Campbell. Whether for good or ill, he always leaves people astonished.”
“So that means Muen Campbell really did it, didn’t he? The things he said a month ago.” Another teacher clicked his tongue in wonder. “I heard the odds were twenty to one. Tsk, tsk. There are probably going to be quite a few students standing on the rooftop tonight. Do we need to install wire mesh on the railings in advance?”
“No—”
Another teacher wailed in grief,“My bonus—without you, how am I supposed to go on living?!”
“...”
Professor Prang cast a glance at the howling Teacher Cade and said expressionlessly,
“Tomorrow, hand me a ten-thousand-word self-reflection. And your bonus for this semester is gone too.”
The wailing instantly grew even more miserable.
But after the brief burst of commotion, the room gradually fell quiet again.
More than a dozen pairs of eyes secretly drifted toward Professor Prang.
Professor Prang hated Muen Campbell so much. At a time like this...
He could not be angry, could he?
No, perhaps he was already angry. Just look at how miserable Teacher Cade had become after running straight into the line of fire!
If they stayed here any longer...
“Um... I’m not feeling too well, so I’ll take my leave first.”
Teacher Flan was the first to excuse herself.
“Right, right, I’m feeling a little unwell too...”
“I forgot to turn off the gas at home...”
“My wife’s about to give birth...”
As though their memories had suddenly improved, the teachers all abruptly remembered urgent matters at home and swiftly slipped away like oil on the soles of their feet.
In the end, only Professor Gran remained.
In the now-silent office, he stared at the perpetually expressionless Professor Prang for a very long time before finally saying,
“I think, as a professor, there’s really no need for you to get angry with a child.”
“I’m not angry.”
“That expression says otherwise.”
“I’m not angry.”
Professor Prang stressed the words, then suddenly raised his hand and, right before Gran’s horrified eyes, smashed his beloved antique desk into pieces with a single blow.
Professor Gran froze on the spot. After standing there in a daze for quite a while, he finally recovered enough to say in a trembling voice,
“A-Actually, back then... I thought you were joking.”
“But I wasn’t joking.”
Professor Prang picked up a splinter of wood.
After hesitating for a moment, he put it into his mouth.
He chewed.
Then swallowed.
“I never joke.”
Then he picked up another piece and put it into his mouth.
With the physique of a Crowned One, it was not as though he could not digest a bit of wood.
It was just that this expensive redwood, though naturally fragrant, was terribly bitter when eaten.
And besides, it hurt.
“I’m not angry.”
Professor Prang repeated himself once more.
“How could I possibly be angry? As an educator, as a teacher, seeing one of my students turn back from a misguided path and abandon his former recklessness—isn’t that the very thing that should make me happiest?”
“I’m only ashamed. Ashamed that my ability was lacking, ashamed that my judgment fell short. I called myself an experienced educator, yet it was only during this exam that I finally saw what had always been hidden in that boy’s eyes.”
“—Such a blazing flame! Like a lion roaring beneath the setting sun!”
Professor Prang suddenly clenched his hand and crushed the corner of the desk to splinters, then shoved more of it into his mouth.
Grinding his teeth, he chewed the redwood with all his strength, as if he meant to squeeze tears from himself and use them to wash clean those clouded eyes of his that had failed to see the boy clearly.
“That boy, Muen Campbell—he is not the wastrel noble we all thought he was. He is a true son of the Duke, worthy of inheriting the Campbell name!”
“No—I have a feeling that his future achievements may even surpass those of his father!”
“Surpass Duke Campbell? The Lion King?”
Professor Gran’s eyes widened. He had not expected Professor Prang to suddenly hold Muen Campbell in such high regard.
After all, Lorne Campbell was among the finest of all the Dukes of Campbell throughout history.
“That sounds a little too difficult, doesn’t it?”
“Difficult?”
Professor Prang did not refute him. He simply asked,
“Do you know whose eyes I last saw that kind of look in?”
“Whose?” Professor Gran blinked.
“You’ve seen her before.”
Professor Prang lowered his gaze, and his voice sank.
“My other foolish student... the one who was controlled by the Love God.”
The Saintess of Purification.
That great saintess who had vanished twenty years ago, yet whose statues still stood in many places, and who still had countless followers.
That strong girl who never yielded to the Love God, even unto death.
“...”
Professor Gran fell silent, even more shocked than before.
A moment later, with a grave expression, he asked,
“You mean... Muen Campbell will also become a saint in the future?”
“...”
Professor Prang’s face stiffened, and he nearly choked.
Professor Gran, however, merely grinned and patted him on the shoulder.
“All right, all right. Stop blaming yourself. No matter how outstanding a teacher is, it’s impossible to see through every student.
At the very least, you didn’t hold him back, did you?”
“But that genius who could score eighty in a single month only managed to learn one Light spell from me last semester,” Professor Prang replied gloomily.
“...”
Professor Gran’s expression stiffened as well. Then, in embarrassed irritation, he snapped,
“So you still say you’re not angry!”
“I’m not.”
Professor Prang continued gnawing furiously on the corner of the desk as he said,
“And even if Muen Campbell had failed to score eighty this time, I still would have honored my promise.”
“Hm?”
“Did you forget? At the start of the semester, I said the same thing—if Muen Campbell truly changed, I would eat this desk.”
Professor Prang let out a sigh.
“So from the moment the exam ended, I already knew that no matter what score he got, this desk was doomed. I had no choice but to eat it.”
...
...
After truly eating the entire desk, Professor Prang hurried off somewhere, though no one knew where he had gone.
Only Professor Gran remained in the office.
As though he had just thought of something, he picked up Muen’s exam once more and studied it carefully.
In the end, on the very question Professor Prang had just pointed out as having been marked wrong, he detected a faint trace of magic.
“Oh ho, that’s what I thought. Teacher Flan’s level isn’t low at all. No matter how nervous she was, there’s no way she’d make such a basic mistake—especially not with so many eyes watching her.”
Professor Gran stroked his chin and narrowed his eyes in a pleased smile.
“So that stiff old fossil Prang actually does pull a little trick like this every now and then.”