Chapter 85: The Reward of Effort

“The Student Council, huh...”

Faced with the choice Celicia had presented to him, Muen fell into brief silence.

At the free-spirited Saint Maria Academy, the Student Council held significant power. The fact that they were the ones checking attendance from the very first class made that much clear.

Moreover, the Student Council carried immense prestige among the student body. If he joined, the “scumbag” aura that clung to him would surely fade—perhaps even disappear entirely. It might actually be possible to shed the prejudices others had forced onto him and finally become the “model student” he dreamed of being.

That was probably Celicia’s intention.

Whichever way he looked at it, it seemed like a good choice.

But...

“Do I even have the qualifications to join the Student Council right now?”

Muen looked Celicia in the eyes and asked seriously,

“Or is this just a special favor you’re offering me?”

“...Whether or not you’re qualified doesn’t matter right now.”

Celicia lowered her eyes, staring into her coffee.

“What matters is whether you have the heart to want to be qualified. Muen Campbell, don’t you?”

“Of course I do—but that’s not the point of what we’re discussing right now, is it?”

The Student Council’s privileged status meant that every year, students scrambled over one another to get in. Anyone who made it had to be a top-tier elite of their grade.

Take Ariel Bugalde, for example. If she wanted to join the Council, no one would object—mainly because everyone who once did had been personally beaten into silence.

But Muen Campbell?

Muen Campbell was a well-known scumbag. A bad student. A flirt.

He’d only managed to learn a single spell in an entire year—Illumination, the simplest one there was.

He’d gotten a three on last semester’s Magic Fundamentals exam.

If someone like him suddenly joined the Student Council, everyone would cry nepotism.

Especially when the current Student Council President just so happened to be his fiancée.

That would only provoke more resentment and hostility from others.

“This’ll become a stain on your record, Celicia.”

“You think I care?”

Celicia raised an eyebrow, lips curling with amusement.

“Let the outside world talk all they want. Since when have I ever—”

“But I care.”

Muen cut her off, voice steady.

“I care.”

“......”

Sunlight streamed through the gap in the pale blue curtains, outlining Muen’s face in bright lines. Celicia stared at the man before her, visibly stunned—an emotion that flickered so plainly in her eyes for the first time.

“I already tainted you once. Please don’t let me burden you with guilt again.”

Muen gently set down his empty coffee cup.

“The coffee was really good.”

“...Thank you,” Celicia replied.

“Then I’ll be going. Goodbye.”

“Mm.”

Muen left the Student Council room, quietly closing the door behind him.

The room dimmed.

And in that twilight glow, the shimmer in Celicia’s eyes stood out even more vividly.

“...Hah.”

She let out a soft breath and rested her chin on her hand, gazing into the void.

Then, slowly, a faint smile blossomed across her flawless face—like spring snow melting at last.

“Muen Campbell...”

“You’ve really changed, haven’t you...”

...

...

“President! President!”

Celicia pulled her gaze back in time to see Veil—the bun-haired girl—rushing breathlessly into the room.

“I brought what you told me to keep an eye out for!”

Still panting, Veil slammed a stack of newspapers onto the desk. Then, noticing the coffee cups, she blinked.

“Eh? Someone was here just now?”

“Isn’t it normal for students to visit the Student Council?”

Celicia tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, the item?”

“R-right! Here!”

Veil handed over the newspapers, her eyes glowing with excitement.

“This issue is wild! I’m totally stunned! I had no idea that behind Muen Campbell’s thirteen-ships—no wait, fourteen-ships saga, there was so much more going on!”

“...Didn’t I tell you to read less of that garbage?”

Celicia took the papers with a mildly scolding tone.

“The content in these isn’t nearly as real as you think.”

“Hehe, I know, but the headlines are just too eye-catching! I accidentally peeked!”

Veil scratched her head sheepishly.

“......”

Celicia knew better than to try stopping the curiosity of the girl before her, so she didn’t push it. She looked down at the headline:

—“Dreadnought-Class Battleship Sinks! The Virgin Slayer Strikes Back!”

“They’re even bold enough to make up stuff about teachers? That guy’s really got guts.”

One glance at the headline was enough to kill any remaining interest. Celicia stood and headed toward the door.

“Eh? President, are you going somewhere?”

“Something came up.”

“But what about all these documents?”

Veil waved frantically at the stack of paperwork towering on the desk.

“These are really urgent!”

Celicia glanced back, calm as ever.

“Secretary?”

“Eh?”

“You’re the Student Council secretary, aren’t you?”

Celicia said evenly.

“Then these are your responsibility for now.”

“Huh—!?”

Veil stood frozen, like her world had just crumbled.

This much paperwork...

It’s going to kill me!

“Do your best, Secretary.”

Celicia patted Veil on the shoulder and whispered sweetly in her ear.

“Oh, and by the way—if I come back and find out you slacked off...”

“You’ll throw away my novels...?” Veil asked pitifully.

“No. I’ll directly petition the publisher to ban all future releases of CEO Evil God Fell for Me.”

“...You’re too cruel! President, you’re so cruel!”

...

...

News Club.

“MINGOT, YOU BASTARD!!”

Ariel slammed a stack of newspapers onto the desk in front of a flamboyantly dressed man lounging in a reclining chair.

“Can you please explain what the hell this is supposed to mean?!”

“Well, if it isn’t the illustrious Ariel Bugalde.”

Mingot, the News Club president—his hair dyed a brilliant green—was leisurely filing his nails. He only glanced up when Ariel shouted, and even then, he looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit today? Truly, our humble little club is graced by your light.”

“Cut the crap!”

Ariel grabbed one of the papers and jabbed a finger at a bold red headline, yelling,

“What the hell is a Dreadnought-Class Battleship? What do you mean Muen Campbell’s ex-girlfriend? And abortion? Stealing men?! Does your club publish this crap without even a hint of shame?!”

“Oh, that.”

Mingot glanced lazily, then scoffed.

“Tabloid filler. Every news outlet runs it.”

“Even tabloids need some basis in reality!”

Ariel pounded the desk.

“But this is all complete fiction!”

“Well, well...”

For once, Mingot sat up a little straighter. He picked up the newspaper, flipped it to the back, and pointed to a tiny disclaimer at the bottom.

“Didn’t I put a reminder right here?”

Ariel leaned in and squinted—and finally saw it:

“All content is purely speculative, intended for entertainment purposes only. Not representative of any real events.”

“No one’s going to see that!”

Ariel froze for a moment—then exploded again.

“You clearly did that on purpose!”

“Oh? So... sounds like Ariel Bugalde has a problem with me then?”

Mingot sneered coldly.

“So what is it you want, then?”

“Retract every single newspaper and issue a public apology,” Ariel said through gritted teeth.

“Tell everyone the truth.”

“I see,” Mingot said with mock gravity, nodding thoughtfully.

“But that’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“Retract the papers? Apologize? That’d be the end of my News Club. There’s no way I’m agreeing to that.”

“And you think it’s fine to trample all over my rights like this?”

“Hm... I suppose it was a bit inappropriate.”

Mingot scratched his chin for a moment, then suddenly suggested,

“How about this—how about I give you ten percent of the profits from the paper sales?”

“......”

“Well? I’ll be honest with you—these papers are selling extremely well. Even ten percent is a nice chunk of change.”

He raised his eyebrows theatrically and added with a smirk,

“Just give up a little bit of your reputation—which let’s be honest, isn’t worth much—and you’ll get piles of cash in return. Isn’t that a killer deal?”

“You—what the hell do you think a person’s reputation is worth?!”

Ariel’s nails dug gouges into the surface of the desk. She glared at Mingot, her whole body coiled like a predator about to pounce.

“I don’t want a single cent of your dirty money! You’re going to retract the newspapers and apologize to every person your lies hurt!”

“Sorry. Can’t do that.”

“You—”

“Oh? Are you thinking of hitting me now, Ariel?”

Mingot looked completely unfazed as he watched her fist tighten, as if he was daring her to strike.

“Go ahead. Hit me. A second-year challenging a sixth-year? That’s newsworthy in itself. And I never turn down a story.”

He leaned in slightly.

“But you’d better think it through first, Ariel. Do you really think... you can win?”

“......”

Ariel’s eyes burned with fury, like she wanted to rip him apart right then and there.

But she didn’t move.

Because she couldn’t. Not yet.

Mingot was a sixth-year—and a well-known one at that.

Ariel could fight above her level, but there were limits.

Right now, she could only go as far back as four years.

Unless...

But no. Using that kind of power on this arrogant clown?

Not worth it.

“Don’t get cocky...”

Ariel’s whole body trembled with rage. She glared at Mingot, her voice a low snarl.

“Thirty years on the west bank, thirty years on the east—don’t look down on a girl just because—”

Knock knock.

The sound of someone rapping lightly on the door cut her off mid-threat.

Without waiting for an answer, a silver-white figure stepped into the room.

“I told you not to let anyone in without my permission, didn’t I—”

Mingot turned, furious, ready to yell at whoever was supposed to be guarding the door—

But then he saw the silver-haired figure. And he froze.

“P-President...?”

“Good afternoon, Mingot,”

Celicia gave him a cold nod, then turned to Ariel with a faint smile.

“Hello, Ariel.”

“Celicia? What are you doing here?”

Ariel blinked, startled. She quickly realized her posture was less than proper—she’d slammed the desk earlier—so she stood straight, cleared her throat, and asked with concern,

“Shouldn’t the Student Council be super busy with the new term?”

“It is. But someone else is covering for me. As for why I’m here...”

Celicia turned to Mingot, her tone cooling further.

“I imagine Senior Mingot knows very well.”

“Uh...”

Mingot’s face twitched.

Looking at the girl who now radiated the chill of a mountain glacier, even someone like him had a hard time staying calm.

Of course he knew why Celicia was here.

He knew she’d come eventually.

He just didn’t expect her to show up this fast.

Shouldn’t she be drowning in Student Council paperwork right now?

How did she have time to deal with this?

Still—no need to panic. He’d prepared for this.

He’d reviewed the school regulations at least ten times.

Legally, he hadn’t violated any rules yet.

The News Club’s financial records had been forged—nothing she could find fault with.

His staff had already been instructed. Apology letters for the teachers were already en route.

All he had to do... was hold her off.

Even if she was Student Council President.

Even if she was an imperial princess.

At the academy, she was still just a fourth-year student.

As long as he hadn’t broken any rules—what could she really do to him?

Yeah. Calm down. The advantage is still mine.

Let’s see what her first move is.

“So you already know why I’m here. Then I’ll get straight to it.”

Celicia dragged a chair across the floor and placed it directly in front of Mingot.

She sat down—legs crossed, fingers interlocked neatly atop her knee, back straight as a sword.

Every movement was as precise and elegant as a machine.

In the silence that followed, her cold gaze fixed on Mingot. Then she spoke.

“Mingot Raymond—

Do you—

Want to die?”

“W-What—”

Even Mingot, hardened sixth-year that he was, flinched backward in his seat.

The force behind her words, the pressure she unleashed—it all hit him like a hammer.

And the sheer unexpectedness of her words shattered every calculated opening move he’d prepared.

But Mingot wasn’t the type to fold so easily. He forced himself to recover and barked back,

“President, are you saying this as the Student Council President? Or as a princess of the empire?”

“Does it matter?”

Celicia’s gaze remained like ice.

Her tone didn’t shift at all.

It was hard to believe someone so calm could say something so lethal.

“Princess?

President?

Even if I gave up both titles—

If I spoke to you simply as Celicia—

Would it make a difference?

It wouldn’t.

Because no matter which title I carry,

I have the right to say this to you.

And I’ll say it as many times as it takes—

Until you’re too afraid to hear it again.”

Her voice was razor-sharp and cold, like each word was carved into his skull with a bloody blade.

“Mingot Raymond.

Do. You. Want. To. Die?”

In that instant—

The girl sat framed by the twilight.

And the chill in the room grew sharper than steel.

...

...

“Celicia, you’re amazing!”

Out in the hallway, Ariel beamed with open admiration.

“Those lines just now? Legendary! Two sentences—and you got that smug bastard to back down and apologize! That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“It was nothing.”

Celicia brushed her silver hair behind her ear, utterly unbothered.

“Dealing with someone like Mingot, reasoning with him only gets you dragged in deeper. The only thing that works is pressure.

He was already on shaky ground. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t have scared him that easily.”

“Still, you were amazing!”

Ariel practically had sparkles in her eyes.

Crap, Celicia’s becoming even more attractive... What do I do? I kinda wanna smooch her right now...

And speaking of that—

Celicia showed up so suddenly—could it be because...

Ariel absentmindedly touched her slightly hot cheeks and began to imagine all sorts of wonderful things.

“Ah.”

Lost in thought, Ariel suddenly bumped into Celicia in front of her.

“What’s wrong?”

Rubbing her nose, Ariel followed Celicia’s gaze—

And then saw the one person she least wanted to see.

Under the shade of a tree not far away, Mu’en sat with a book in hand—the title obscured—reading intently.

Now and then, he furrowed his brows as if encountering something difficult, then pulled out a notebook to jot down some notes.

Other times, when solving a long-standing problem, he’d flash a smile so dazzling it could make hearts flutter.

Through the entire process, he remained completely focused, unaffected by anything around him—even when someone occasionally passed nearby, he remained immersed in the world of the book.

“This guy actually reads? And so seriously?”

Ariel stared at the scene, then unconsciously made a he-knows-how-to-climb-trees-too kind of surprised face, before curling her lip in disdain and mocking,

“With his personality, it’s probably just another three-minute whim.”

“Ariel.”

Celicia retracted her gaze and cast a chilly glance at Ariel.

“He’s putting in effort. You shouldn’t talk about him like that.”

“But he’s Mu’en Campbell! You saw what kind of person he was last semester, didn’t you? There’s no way he’s seriously trying.” Ariel protested.

“That has nothing to do with who he is or what he used to be.”

Celicia turned and resumed walking.

Only, her footsteps now seemed noticeably lighter—

So as not to disturb that boy who seemed reborn.

“Anyone who’s trying... shouldn’t be mocked.”

...

...

“Is it martial arts class today?”

After his usual morning run, cold shower, and a simple breakfast in the cafeteria, Mu’en made his way to today’s lesson.

This time, he felt much more at ease.

Because compared to theoretical classes like Introduction to Magical Principles, which he had zero foundation in, martial arts was a practical course—one he could handle far more comfortably.

After all, while he did waste most of last year, his cheapskate dad had still laid a solid foundation for him.

And besides—

“I haven’t slacked off at all lately.”

Mu’en clenched his fist, a sharp glint flashing through his eyes.

“Perfect. I’d like to see just how far my current physical ability as a martial artist can take me within our year.”

...

...

Martial arts class, of course, wasn’t held in a classroom, but in a huge training arena.

These arenas—or rather, dueling platforms—were mostly built by the academy for student duels. There was always a teacher supervising, and each stage had magic arrays engraved upon it, allowing combatants to fight freely and show their full strength without reservation.

By the time Mu’en arrived, quite a few students were already present.

What relieved him was that, given the “rough” nature of the course, there were barely any girls present—which meant fewer gossip opportunities.

But that breath of relief was quickly inhaled back.

Because Ariel was here too.

Though this time, she merely gave him a cold glance and said nothing.

Mu’en scratched his head and gave up on greeting her. He had a feeling she was in a bad mood today.

“Oh, looks like everyone’s here.”

When class began, the martial arts instructor, Kaide—whose body was as hulking as a gorilla—swept his gaze across the students.

“Same rule as always. First class of the new term—duel by draw. Let me see if you little brats have been slacking off during break!”

“Nice!”

A few students let out small cheers—because these kinds of matchups meant they could watch fights and slack off when it wasn’t their turn. Compared to dull martial arts drills, this was easily one of their favorite types of classes.

“Heh, laugh while you can. If I see you’ve regressed, just wait and see how I deal with you!”

Kaide sneered and dropped a harsh warning, then brought out the drawing box and had students step up to draw lots one by one.

“Number One?”

Mu’en stared at the number in his hand, a little stunned.

Was his luck really that bad?

He’d hoped to watch a few other matches first to gauge everyone’s level.

“But whatever. Doesn’t really change anything—just give it my all.”

He grinned and, at Kaide’s call, stepped onto the stage.

Standing opposite him was a classmate with a towering physique, whose broad chest muscles looked ready to burst through his uniform.

“I think you’re...”

Mu’en tried to recall. He felt like the guy looked familiar.

“My name’s Rayne.”

The burly student introduced himself.

“Ah, Rayne.”

Mu’en remembered.

From the original body’s memories, Rayne was one of the top-tier students in their year.

His powerful, well-developed muscles had been trained over years of hard work. Even Instructor Kaide often praised his raw strength and explosive power.

Not to mention, he had already broken through Second Stage last term, now sitting somewhere in the mid-tier of Second-Stage martial artist.

“Looks like I’ve got a tough opponent.”

Mu’en scratched his head, then smiled wryly.

“Well then, let’s have a good match, Rayne.”

“Likewise, Mu’en Campbell.”

“Try to go easy on me, alright?”

Rayne blinked, then nodded firmly. “I’ll do my best.”

...

...

“He’s the first one up?”

Watching Mu’en Campbell step onto the stage, Ariel raised an eyebrow.

Then smirked coldly.

“Perfect. Let’s see how badly you get wrecked.”

Trying to show off reading in front of Celicia?

Effort?

Let’s see just how earth-shattering your effort really is.

“Place your bets! Place your bets!”

Behind her, a monkey-faced classmate rubbed his hands together eagerly and called out to the surrounding crowd:

“Mu’en Campbell vs. Rayne! A thrilling match not to be missed! Anyone want in?”

“Seriously, dude? This match has zero suspense and you’re still trying to run a bet?” a student nearby said, looking puzzled.

“Exactly! That’s Rayne we’re talking about. Mu’en Campbell wasted the entire last year goofing off. Even if he’s got some basics, he couldn’t beat Rayne even if Rayne had one hand tied behind his back.”

“Be more confident—he wouldn’t win even if Rayne had one hand and one leg tied.”

“Push that confidence further—make it both hands and both legs!”

“Come on, now you’re just being ridiculous. What’s Rayne supposed to fight with, his head?”

“Honestly, even if Rayne did fight with his head, I’m not sure Mu’en could win, haha...”

“......”

“Relax, relax.”

Monkey-face looked smug as if he’d planned this all out. He chuckled,

“Of course I know there’s a big strength gap between them—but did I ever say we’re betting on who wins?”

“Oh? Then what are you betting on?”

“Time. How long Mu’en Campbell can last. Or how long the fight takes. Five minutes? Ten minutes? Closest guess wins. Winner takes all. Simple rules. Who’s in?”

“I’m in!”

Someone responded instantly.

Life at the academy was boring enough—who wouldn’t want to enjoy a little excitement like this?

“I’m betting 100 Emirs—he lasts five minutes!”

“Five’s too conservative.”

Someone tossed over a 50 Emir bill.

“Three minutes.”

“Calling five minutes ‘conservative’ but only putting down fifty?”

The obviously noble-born young master sneered and waved his hand broadly. “One thousand—on one minute.”

“Wow, you bastard! Weren’t you trying to cling to Mu’en Campbell’s leg just a while ago? And now you’re going in this hard?”

“Heh, that’s ‘cause I didn’t manage to cling on. That bootlicker Mu’en Campbell only sucks up to upper-year students anyway.”

...

“Should I place a bet too?”

Watching the heated frenzy of students wagering, Ariel suddenly felt tempted as well.

She could watch Mu’en Campbell get humiliated and make some pocket money. Why not?

It was just—she was dirt poor right now. So even though she was tempted, Ariel was still extremely cautious with her money. Instinctively, she called out in her heart to her all-powerful master.

“Master, what do you think?”

“Mu’en Campbell’s strength? I don’t know much about martial artists, but... I can tell he seems different from last semester.”

“Different?”

“He seems to have... advanced?”

Her master’s voice rang out in her mind, tinged with slight uncertainty, but quickly turned firm: “That’s right. He advanced.”

“I see... so you really did advance, you despicable Mu’en Campbell—you almost fooled me.”

Ariel gritted her teeth and stared hard at Mu’en on the platform.

This guy was definitely planning to silently advance in rank, then shock everyone with a dramatic comeback.

Thank goodness she had her master. Otherwise, she might’ve bet one or two minutes too—and lost even her lunch money!

“I’m betting ten minutes!”

Now that she was sure Mu’en had advanced to Second Rank, Ariel stepped forward and boldly bet her entire lunch budget for the next week—two crumpled 200 Emir bills.

No choice—black market wasn’t open, and she’d already blown all her cash on materials. She was broke.

But—

Seeing those clueless fools still piling bets on two minutes or less, completely unaware Mu’en had hidden his strength, Ariel couldn’t help but curl her lips and smirk.

Now that Mu’en Campbell was Second Rank, even if he couldn’t beat Rayne, he could definitely hold out for ten minutes.

By then, she’d be the undisputed winner.

“Hehe~”

With that thought, Ariel rubbed her hands together in excitement.

“Here I come, chicken leg with every meal life~”

...

“You two—choose your weapons.”

Since it was a proper duel, it was only fair that both sides used weapons suited to them. So before the match began, Kaide let them head over to the weapon rack to pick whatever fit them best.

Mu’en naturally picked the pair of short blades he’d grown used to, while Rayne grabbed a massive horse-slaying blade that looked terrifyingly powerful.

“Short blades?”

Kaide glanced at the weapons in Mu’en’s hands with mild surprise.

“Weren’t you using a sword last semester?”

“Haha, swords don’t suit me, so I switched.”

Mu’en laughed it off.

He obviously couldn’t say, “I learned new techniques from an assassin and forgot all the sword forms you taught me.”

“Whatever. What weapon you use is your business.”

Kaide didn’t care much anyway—Mu’en had only ever fooled around with the sword last semester.

Since it was all just messing around, what did it matter?

“Let’s begin.”

Kaide told them to warm up, then gradually backed away, giving them space.

“Alright.”

Mu’en limbered up, then looked over at Rayne, who was still gauging the feel of the massive blade.

“Rayne,” Mu’en suddenly called out.

“Hm?” Rayne looked over in confusion.

“Your muscles are really impressive. You must’ve trained for a long time.”

“...Started as a kid.”

“Is that so.”

Mu’en nodded, then continued.

“I’m not chatting for any particular reason. I’m just curious about one thing.”

“?”

“I remember someone once said—moderate training attracts the opposite sex, excessive training attracts the same sex. I’m just wondering... Rayne, with a body like yours...”

Mu’en leaned forward slightly and smiled.

“You’ve never had a girl like you, have you?”

Crack.

It sounded like something inside had just snapped.

Rayne froze. Then the veins on his forehead bulged and his eyes turned bloodshot.

You son of a bitch—fine, we fight. But did you have to poke me right in the sore spot?

So what if I’ve never had a girl like me? I still have my beloved dumbbells!

You think you understand the joy of pumping iron every day?

Just then—

“Begin.”

Instructor Kaide gave the start command.

In an instant, Mu’en shot forward like a hunting predator.

Shadow Step!

Mu’en vanished from his original spot.

When he reappeared, he was already right in front of Rayne.

The twin blades slashed out, following like a shadow.

Rayne’s eyes widened suddenly.

That flash of rage had caused a momentary delay in his reaction—and he lost the initiative right from the start.

So faced with Mu’en’s blades, he could only hastily raise his massive weapon to block.

The sheer size of the horse-slaying blade proved its advantage—it alone was almost enough to seal off all of Mu’en’s attack routes.

But—

Not all of them.

Mu’en’s gaze sharpened.

He suddenly changed tactics—stepped on the flat of the massive blade—

Then leapt backward using it as a springboard, simultaneously throwing one of his short blades at Rayne’s unguarded face.

Rayne jerked his head aside, barely avoiding the flying dagger.

But the moment he did, Mu’en slammed a foot down and shot forward again.

Rayne’s expression turned panicked.

He knew—if he kept letting Mu’en barrage him like this, he’d lose.

He had to force him back, regain control.

So he gathered qi in his dantian.

Battle Aura began to gather.

Martial Technique: Iron Mountain Shock!

With a sudden explosion of battle aura, all enemies in close range could be blasted away—ideal for fending off multiple attackers or breaking out of tight melee.

Only drawback?

It took time to charge.

And just before he could finish charging it, Mu’en was already in his face.

But this time, he didn’t swing his blade.

He reached out with his free hand—fingers curled like beast claws.

A moment later—

Thunderclap!

A massive shockwave struck. Rayne instantly felt his blood surge and churn.

And the battle aura he’d nearly completed gathering shattered instantly.

The move hadn’t caused much damage—but it left Rayne stunned in brief disarray.

“A true interrupt skill, alright.”

Mu’en murmured in admiration as he casually walked up to Rayne—

And punched him square in the face.

The match was over.

The arena fell silent.

Everyone stared, stunned.

And only when Mu’en looked at him, confused, did Instructor Kaide snap out of it. He looked down at the stopwatch he’d instinctively paused—then raised his voice:

“Ten seconds! Winner... Mu’en Campbell!”

The crowd still didn’t react.

But Mu’en didn’t care about the lack of applause. He turned toward Rayne lying on the ground, placed a hand on his chest, and gave a graceful bow.

“Thank you for the match, Rayne. Everything I said earlier was nonsense, so please don’t take it personally. Even if no girls like you, I believe you’re still a very charming man.”

Mu’en smiled. “A life devoted to training is a happy one, isn’t it?”

Rayne: “...”

If you can’t say something nice—just don’t say anything at all.

That hurt more than the punch.

Mu’en turned and walked back to his seat.

“Wait.”

Kaide called out to him, eyes burning with intensity, as if he were meeting the golden-haired boy for the first time.

“So... you’re not going to say anything? Like... your thoughts or anything?”

“Thoughts?”

Mu’en seriously reflected on the battle just now. Then answered sincerely:

“It felt... easier than I expected.”

“...”

Rayne had just managed to sit up—but the moment he heard that, his vision went black again and he collapsed back to the ground.

...

...

It wasn’t until Mu’en left the stage that the crowd finally erupted.

“No way, Mu’en Campbell actually won?”

“I’m not dreaming, right? Hit me—ow! Okay, not a dream.”

“Ten seconds? Not even a sixty-year-old grandpa could’ve gone down that fast. Rayne, seriously?”

“One break and Mu’en Campbell’s suddenly this strong? He must’ve taken something.”

“Wait, so who actually won the bet?”

Someone asked, and all eyes turned to monkey-face.

Monkey-face gulped, then looked down at the bet sheet he was holding.

“Well, since the bet was about match duration, and not winner or loser, the person whose guess was closest to ten seconds wins.”

So the victor of this round—

Was some random bystander who thought “might as well join the fun” and tossed a single coin on the absurd bet of fifteen seconds.

The 1:5000 payout ratio became a living legend at Saint Maria.

...

After Mu’en, the other students had their matches.

Compared to Mu’en’s swift, sharp, and precise fight, the others’ duels were flashy and messy.

With all their over-the-top moves flying everywhere but landing nowhere, Mu’en almost wanted to run up and yell, “Stop! Stop hitting each other! You’re not gonna kill anyone like this!”

The only thing that really shocked Mu’en—

Was Ariel.

She beat her opponent even faster—just seven seconds.

And for some ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ reason, she looked like she was holding back a ton of anger. Every strike was vicious enough to scare even Kaide out of his wits.

“When did I get so strong without realizing it...”

Mu’en rested his chin in his hand, watching the battles with a faint sigh.

Back when he first transmigrated here, he’d been too weak to do anything.

All he could do was endure fate’s mockery like a helpless coward.

But after more than a month of battling the records within the Black Book day and night, he could finally feel it:

He was improving.

He was no longer that useless young master.

He was strong now.

And he would only grow stronger.