* * *
Lately, it felt like Chester’s gaze had grown even sharper.
Before, he had treated me like thin air, but recently, it felt more like he was intentionally glaring at me whenever he got the chance.
‘Does he really hate me that much?’
But that was as far as it went. Just because we were seatmates didn’t mean we shared much conversation, and during theory lectures, he ignored me as usual.
Once, when I woke up from a nap, I thought our eyes met, but looking back, it probably was just a coincidence.
In any case, my goal was simply to avoid upsetting him, keep things from being too uncomfortable, and wait until he brought up the breakup.
So, really, this wasn’t a problem.
“Ruite, is there anything you’re struggling with lately at the academy?”
Sitting in the consultation room, I barely bit back the urge to answer Professor Harold’s question with, “Chester keeps glaring at me.”
“No, everything is fine, except for the fact that the testing period is approaching.”
At that, Harold let out a cruel remark about how students and tests are inseparable—all while wearing a bright, cheerful smile.
“Your practical grades are in the top tier, Ruite… but I’d like to see your theory scores go up a bit.”
When I replied that wanting it doesn’t always make it happen, Harold gave me a light, playful flick on the head, telling me not to brush it off so easily.
“If there’s something you don’t understand in the theory lectures, ask your seatmate for help. You know being seatmates means more than just sitting next to each other, right?”
Whitmore Academy placed a high value on cooperation and peer relationships.
Rather than a talented student excelling alone, the school encouraged students to cooperate and grow together.
As Harold said, a “mate” wasn’t just the person closest to you in the classroom; it implied a relationship where you exchanged help with lessons or assignments.
However, since my mate was Chester, it was hard to give Harold a ready answer.
“You’re going to take the Mage Exam, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Since I’m in the Magic Department, I naturally should.”
Every student in the Magic Department dreamed of becoming a mage, and to become one, you had to pass the official national exam.
“Then have you decided what you want to do after you pass?”
“Ah… well. I’m not sure yet.”
Honestly, thanks to being born with innate mana ability, I was able to enter a prestigious department, but if someone asked if I truly wanted to be a mage, it was hard to say.
Besides, my conversation with Chester a few days ago had reminded me of the definitive motive for entering this academy in the first place.
Mages could go into various fields: most dreamed of joining the Tehira Empire’s Magic Knights.
Others joined mercenary guilds to hunt monsters, or worked as instructors at educational institutions.
There was also the path of a researcher, studying monsters and various magical phenomena.
But I hadn’t thought about what I actually wanted to do.
Until now, my top priority had been breaking up with Chester, so I hadn’t had the luxury to think of anything else.
Even if I managed to avoid the “death ending” by staying out of Chester’s way, the problem remained.
Considering the attitude of both sets of parents, if the breakup failed and I ended up married to Chester, it was obvious I wouldn’t be able to choose my own career freely.
Furthermore, the fact remained that the character I inhabited was destined to be the villain of the original story.
Even if I avoided the death ending, staying tied to the protagonist through marriage didn’t seem like it would lead to a very good future.
For the sake of my own future, a breakup with Chester was essential.
“Well, there’s no need to rush. If you ever have questions, feel free to come for a consultation.”
“Yes, sir.”
The consultation went on longer than expected.
Harold loved to chat—whether with students or professors—and he didn’t even notice that the next lecture time was approaching.
As I hurried down the hallway, I saw the back of the professor in charge of the next theory class.
The thought that I’d be marked late if I arrived after the professor flashed through my mind.
I squeezed my eyes shut and sprinted down the hall.
I tried to run past him, but suddenly, the professor started running too.
“You brat! If you get there after me, consider yourself late!”
“What?! Ah, Professor…!”
I had completely forgotten that the next hour was with Professor Philip of Mathematics, who loved to play pranks.
Despite his age, the professor moved quickly, and I began to run for my life.
“Hah… huff…”
I barely managed to stumble into the classroom one step ahead of him.
I slumped into my seat, gasping for air.
The unexpected sprint had left beads of sweat on my forehead.
I pushed my hair back and wiped the sweat with my sleeve when I felt a sharp gaze from the side.
Turning my head, I saw Chester glaring at me again.
“Why don’t you try being punctual for lectures?”
“I wanted to be punctual.”
If I hadn’t spent the last few minutes listening to Professor Harold’s concerns about his recent weight gain, I wouldn’t have had to engage in a pointless race with Professor Philip.
I caught my breath, raking my messy hair back.
Just as Chester’s eyes landed on my exposed forehead, Professor Philip entered the room.
As soon as he stood at the podium, he shared the story of our race.
The classroom immediately erupted in laughter.
Magnus even pointed at me, laughing openly.
‘Sure, go ahead and laugh. As long as I avoided being marked late.’
“Rui, you’re sweating a lot.”
Colin turned around with a kind face.
“I guess Professor Philip doesn’t age. He nearly killed me with that sprint.”
Colin produced some tissues from somewhere and handed them to me.
“Shouldn’t those situations be avoided by preparing for class with time to spare?”
Chester spoke up, having watched me take the tissues from Colin.
“I didn’t know the consultation would go that long. But I won the race, so isn’t that what matters?”
As I gave a proud smile, Chester shook his head with an expression of disbelief.
The cheerful atmosphere soon settled, and the boring lecture began.
Theory classes in the Magic Department were split into two categories: specialized subjects related to mana and mages, and general subjects like mathematics, literature, philosophy, and political science.
The latter were usually taught at a highly advanced level in the General Department, but the Magic and Swordsmanship Departments didn’t go quite that deep.
After all, those two departments were technical in nature.
However, as a prestigious academy, the goal was to graduate students with a certain level of general knowledge, so those subjects were still mandatory.
Because of this, the graduation difficulty for Swordsmanship and Magic was on the higher side.
Basically, to graduate, I had to endure this tedious math hour.
“Solve the two problems at the bottom of page 36. I’ll be calling people up to the board, so be ready.”
Groans erupted from all over at Philip’s words.
Classmates who had been dozing snapped their eyes open and gripped their pens.
I looked at the problems with a dull expression when I suddenly felt a prickle on the top of my head.
Glancing up, I saw Professor Philip smirking at me.
I had a feeling.
I was going to be the one called up to solve them.
I scanned the problems quickly, but of course, they were advanced questions.
I instinctively started to signal Colin for help but hesitated.
I had been scolded by another professor last time for chatting.
Besides, if the professor caught me calling Colin, I was already getting a headache thinking about what kind of prank he’d pull next.
‘If there’s something you don’t understand in the theory lectures, ask your seatmate for help.’
My head turned instinctively. I remembered what Professor Harold had said during our consultation.
Chester had already finished the problems and was skimming the back of the textbook.
Come to think of it, Magnus had said that too—that Chester actually helps his seatmates with questions or assignments.
Watching Philip out of the corner of my eye, I leaned toward Chester.
Chester instinctively furrowed his brows at the sudden proximity.
“What?”
“I don’t get this. Can you help me out?”
“What?”
I pointed at the problem and gave Chester a pleading look.
I felt a bit bad asking someone who hated me, but I had to do what I had to do to survive.
“You can’t even solve one of those? It’s a simple substitution using the formula we learned last time. Were you even listening to the lecture?”
“I’m pretty sure I was?”
“How could you have been listening when you’re busy sleeping half the time?”
I pulled my textbook back with a dissatisfied look.
It seemed I had chosen the wrong person to ask for help.
He already seemed to dislike me more lately with all the glaring; I shouldn’t have spoken to him.
“Fine. If you don’t want to help, you could just say so.”
I kept an eye on Philip and reached forward again.
I was planning to quietly ask Colin for help, but suddenly, Chester snatched my textbook away.
* * *
