[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
Chapter 105 – Final Exams (2)
“D-Do whatever you want.”
Even now, Emilia couldn’t bring herself to outright refuse.
It was that ever-present pride of hers, woven into her very being, that wouldn’t allow her to back down.
Her personality shone through in this mont, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
It was both endearing and amusing.
“Well then, I won’t hold back.”
I slowly extended my hand.
Perhaps standing there calmly was too much for her; her slender shoulders quivered slightly, betraying her tension.
Behind her closed eyelids, I could see faint trembling.
She fidgeted with her sleeves, clearly on edge, awaiting my touch.
As I drew closer, she wondered.
'Where would it land?'
Her thoughts likely wandered through possibilities—her soft chest, her slender waist, or the curve of her hips.
Each option would leave its own kind of mark.
She must have been hyper-aware of every nerve in her body, bracing for what was to co.
“Lady Vanity.”
Of course, none of those were correct.
Skipping past all the areas she might have anticipated, my hand gently rested atop her head.
Then, I began to stroke her deep blue hair.
Swish.
“…?”
Perhaps it was the unexpectedness of it, but her eyes fluttered open cautiously.
Her blue irises reflected only my face.
I gazed back at her calmly before offering her a soft, encouraging smile.
And then, leaning in slightly, I whispered into her reddened ear,
“You worked hard.”
“W-What?”
Her voice wavered with confusion as her lips ford a question.
“I’ve heard how much effort you put into preparing for this exam. Regardless of the outco, I wanted to acknowledge how hard you worked.”
Even though she often hid it behind her arrogance, Emilia was one of the most diligent students I knew.
It wasn’t easy for her to admit it, but her efforts far surpassed those of the average student.
Her drive stemd from a need for validation, the fuel for her vanity.
To bask in recognition, one first had to work hard enough to deserve the applause.
That was the life Emilia lived every single day.
“You’re always giving it your all.”
I wanted her to know that even if she didn’t place first, there were people who saw and appreciated her efforts.
And that I was one of them.
I withdrew my hand from her head, letting the warmth of my words settle in.
My voice carried a kindness that lingered in the air.
“…You’re truly sothing else.”
Did my words reach her?
The villainess mumbled quietly, her feelings a complicated mix.
Perhaps she felt embarrassed for having misread the situation.
Or maybe it was the satisfaction of being recognized by soone close to her.
The unspoken hours of effort she thought no one noticed were now acknowledged, filling a void she hadn’t realized was there.
Her cheeks turned red, like snow touched by a warm breath, her emotions painting her face.
“You’re so inconsistent… It’s infuriating.”
“My apologies if I overstepped.”
“That’s not what I ant! You’re just so… ugh, sly!”
She pouted, her lips jutting out in a way that was oddly transparent in its awkwardness.
After hesitating for a mont, Emilia turned her gaze away and mumbled softly,
“…Thank you.”
Her words, faint yet heartfelt, echoed like ripples across a quiet lake.
“…Judas.”
The way she said my na—two syllables, unfamiliar on her tongue—was oddly charming.
“Hmm? This is the first ti you’ve called by na, isn’t it?”
“Shut up!”
“It makes happy to feel acknowledged. Perhaps you could continue to call by my na from now on?”
“Don’t get your hopes up!”
Her blunt refusal was characteristic of her, but she didn’t pull away from my hand as I continued to stroke her hair.
The subtle gestures spoke volus about how the distance between us had grown smaller over ti.
As we exchanged playful banter, we walked side by side down the path.
***
A few days later.
The final written exam scores had been posted, and now, the practical exams lood ahead.
As usual, we spent our ti in the library.
“Practical exams start tomorrow.”
“Indeed.”
It was an ordinary conversation, the kind that had beco routine among our group: the snake, the pilot, and the vainwoman.
The combination had beco sothing of a set trio.
Normally, the Rose and the Young Prince would have been with us, but today they were out, exploring the academy’s surrounding shopping district.
anwhile, we had nothing in particular planned.
With the practical exams looming, even training had been paused to focus on rest and recovery.
So, after class, we had naturally gathered as usual, talking idly while occupying our usual corner of the library.
Given the timing, much of the conversation revolved around the upcoming exams.
“Do the head assistants take practical exams too?”
“Of course. We’re still students, after all. However, I’ve heard that our exams are conducted differently from those of regular students.”
That was indeed the case.
While regular students were graded purely for evaluation, the head assistants’ practical exams resembled more of a showcase event.
The head assistants were already considered among the best, so there were no failing marks or strict score distributions.
Instead, they participated in an exhibition match known as the 'Faculty Competition'.
“The Faculty Competition?”
“Yes. It’s a traditional event that has existed since Galimard Academy’s founding. Head assistants and professors participate together.”
The competition brought together the top-ranking staff and students of the academy.
It served multiple purposes: students gained insight into the pinnacle of skill, the academy showcased the prowess of its faculty, and, ultimately, it promoted growth through inspiration.
“Essentially, it’s an exhibition match between the staff. Head assistants are included as part of the event, more as a supplent than anything else.”
“But doesn’t that seem… unfair? Surely assistants can’t compete with professors?”
“That’s precisely the point. It’s ant to highlight the gap between students and professors, reinforcing the idea of the heights one can aspire to. In return, participating assistants receive near-perfect scores, so there’s no need to worry about grades.”
I wrapped up the explanation succinctly, glossing over finer details like rules and match formats.
There was no need to delve too deeply; the event was still a week away.
For now, the focus was on the practical exams, which began tomorrow.
Hearing this, Emilia tilted her head thoughtfully.
“So… you don’t have a practical exam tomorrow?”
“That’s correct.”
“Hmm.”
“As a direct assistant to Professor Selena, I’ll likely participate in the Faculty Competition alongside her.”
“I see. Being a head assistant isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“With rank cos responsibility.”
While I saw the competition as a casual event, from the perspective of the students, it was likely an intimidating affair.
After all, the professors were legends in their own right—heroes of the Great Purge, forr royal knights, archmages of the tower, cardinals of the church.
They were the reason Galimard was renowned as the continent’s premier academy.
Shrugging off such musings, I added,
“Well, since the regular exams take place first, I’ll likely spend my ti watching others compete.”
“For your information, my exam is tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there to cheer you on.”
It seed I wouldn’t be bored.
As the conversation returned to the topic of practical exams, the quiet Regia, who had been sitting across from us, suddenly spoke.
“U-Um… Lord Judas?”
“Yes, Miss Regia?”
Her voice was softer than usual, her timid nature more pronounced than ever.
It seed she wanted to say sothing but was hesitating.
Encouraging her to speak freely, I waited as she gathered her resolve, clutching her fists tightly.
Finally, she spoke, her words faltering but resolute.
“For tomorrow’s practical exam… I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
My interest was piqued.
In all the ti we’d spent together, Regia had rarely asked for anything.
She wasn’t the type to burden others, so for her to request sothing directly was surprising.
I leaned in slightly, curious about what she might say.
“When it cos to tomorrow’s exam… could you—”
Still hesitant, she finally blurted out her request, her voice quivering with emotion.
Almost on the verge of tears, she looked at , her expression earnest.
Hearing her words, I couldn’t help but let out a bemused chuckle.
“…What?”
Her request was… entirely unexpected.
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Demon God]
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