"Is it over?"

In the sunlight-filled classroom, Moen stared at Professor Pulan in front of him, his expression still somewhat vacant.

It felt like waking up from a long dream. The content of the exam flashed by like the end credits of a film, now blurred and indistinct. Yet there was a sense of relief in his heart, as though something heavy had been lifted, leaving him light as air.

"Yes, it's over. Moen Campbell, you did well—better than I expected."

Professor Pulan's gaze swept over Moen's paper briefly, his expression ambiguous, yet his tone seemed noticeably softer.

He patted Moen's shoulder and urged, "Hurry up and go. Don't just stand there."

"Oh."

Moen numbly nodded then stood up.

He had no idea how he managed to leave the classroom, weave through the curious crowd, or even return to his dormitory.

When he finally came to his senses, he found himself sitting at his desk, gazing at his own reflection in the mirror for a long time.

"So, what now?"

Having worked relentlessly toward a temporary goal, Moen now found himself engulfed in a deep emptiness.

It felt as though something had gone missing from his heart—a hollow void.

But he quickly recovered.

"Do I really need to think about it?" he murmured to himself.

In his sapphire-blue eyes, one fire faded, only for another to ignite.

"My goal is still far from complete, isn't it?"

And so, his consciousness plunged into darkness.

Within the shadows, a maid-garbed assassin and a naked man emerged together.

"One month apart—feels almost nostalgic," Moen said with a snap of his fingers. "This scene calls for something more... celebratory, wouldn't you say?"

The darkness dissolved, transforming into bright, radiant sunshine.

Moen, bathed in endless brilliance, held twin daggers in his hands.

He grinned, a wide smile:

"Come on, let's see how much I've regressed in this past month!"

...

...

"Finished with the exam? Hurry and let me take a look!"

After the test, Professor Pulan returned to his office with the stack of papers, only to find the space already crammed full of nosy teachers.

Even Kaid—a teacher notoriously disdainful of anything related to magic—was lingering in the corner, face alight with curiosity as he waited for the results.

At this academy, gossip and "spectator behavior" were not exclusive to students; the teachers partook liberally as well.

Professor Gran immediately abandoned all semblance of decorum and made a dive for the exam papers the moment Pulan entered.

"Can't you act more like educators?"

With a slap of the hand, Professor Pulan brushed off Gran's attempt to seize the papers, his tone irritated:

"It's bad enough dealing with the students—why are you all acting so nosy? What kind of professional conduct is this?"

"And what about you personally overseeing the exam as the monitor? Any grounds to lecture us?"

"I only did that to ensure fairness!"

"Oh, well then, should we arrange for you to personally monitor every future exam?"

Gran whistled mockingly, clearly unfazed by Professor Pulan's irritation. Opposing Pulan's attention, Gran seized the opportunity and snatched the papers from the pile.

"Let me see. Moen Campbell. Campbell... right here!"

Gran swiftly sifted through the stack, accurately pulling out Moen's paper and handing it to Fran, a fit and healthy-looking teacher nearby.

"Teacher Fran, quick—grade this for us. We all want to know!"

"This... feels a bit inappropriate," Fran hesitated, glancing toward Professor Pulan.

Although grading it early wouldn’t change the result, it still went against proper procedures...

And Pulan was known for his strict adherence to rules. This break in protocol...

"Grade it," Professor Pulan unexpectedly acquiesced.

"This is hardly worth fussing over."

"Huh?"

Even Gran was visibly startled by this easy concession. He stared at Pulan suspiciously for a long moment.

"Something feels off about you today. Bad mood? That kid Moen messing with you again?"

"Do I look like I'm upset?"

"Obvious as day. Right before my eyes."

"I am not upset," Pulan stressed.

However, his tone was enough to silence Gran momentarily. Fran wasted no time and began grading Moen's paper, while the other teachers leaned in closely out of curiosity.

The room buzzed as Gran reacted dramatically to the grading process:

"Hold on—he got all of the first five questions right? That kid’s got some hidden skills!"

"Oh dear, how could he miss something as simple as question six..."

"Looks like question thirteen was a tough one; he must’ve spent so much time on it."

"Whoa—the last big question wasn’t even attempted. Smart choice!"

The exam was scored out of 100—a fairly concise format—so it didn’t take long to finish grading.

The final score quickly appeared before everyone’s eyes.

Silence blanketed the room.

Every person stared at the score, saying nothing.

For a long moment, all they could do was watch... mournful, pensive.

Finally, one teacher sighed and shook their head murmuring, "It’s... 79 points. Such a shame."

Indeed, seventy-nine.

That was the bright-red number now etched into the top of the paper.

Not far off—but just one mark short of crossing the line dividing good and excellent.

This one-point gap felt somehow more disappointing than a chasm of mediocrity could ever achieve.

Even Gran, upon seeing the number, dropped his lively demeanor, his expression faltering.

"Guess... luck wasn’t on his side?"

While 79 points didn’t suggest a lack of skill or knowledge, from 3 points to 79—every teacher present clearly understood the sheer effort and sacrifice this youth must have poured into this one miracle month.

His sweat and perseverance had created a feat that everyone deemed impossible—yet the cruel sting of that one-point shortfall turned triumph into tragedy.

But the more so, the more people feel sorry.

The one-point difference was as if the God of Fate had played a small joke on that teenager.

"Give me the test paper."

Just as everyone was caught up in the emotion of pity for that teenager, Professor Pulan suddenly probed his hand and took the test paper.

His eyes darted across the test paper and then, as if he was sure of something.

Pointing to a certain place on the test paper, he said:

"Here, the judgement is wrong."

"Hey?"

Teacher Fran blinked, her gaze sweeping over the place where Professor Pulan's finger was pointing.

Her beautiful eyes widened, and her pretty face turned red all of a sudden.

"Ah, really, no ...... sorry, I really did it wrong, maybe it's the first time I've been graded by so many teachers staring at me, I'm a little nervous ......"

"Change over It."

Professor Pulan remained expressionless and didn't seem to have the intention to blame.

He just silently watched Teacher Fran recalibrate that question, and then, recalculate the score.

There was actually no need to calculate.

Seventy-nine plus one, the homeless man on the street could calculate the result.

Eighty.

Excellent level.

In the office, silence fell once again.

Obviously, they were still lamenting just now, but when that number really appeared in front of their eyes, they still couldn't help but feel shocked.

As teachers of Saint Mary's, they were all elites in the education world, what kind of students hadn't they seen before?

The ones who shone like a light but had a sudden accident, or the ones who were so self-absorbed that their grades fell apart.

Or the prodigal son with a good background, who came to his senses, turned back in a flash, and finally succeeded in climbing to the peak step by step.

However, like that blonde teenager, in just one month, rushed from three points to eighty excellent standards......

Honestly, unheard of.

"It can even be called a miracle in the education world, right?"

A teacher couldn't help but sigh.

"It's really worthy of that Moen Campbell, no matter how good or bad it is, it's always amazing."

"So, Moen Campbell did it, right, with what he said a month ago." There were also teachers who reacted and tsked:

"I heard that the odds are twenty to one, tsk, I'm afraid that a lot of students will have to stand on the rooftop now, do we need to install barbed wire on the railing in time?"

"You all saw this too," a teacher murmured softly, shaking his head.

“Moen wasn’t just chasing far-off pride anymore, was he?"

“He wagered everything a month ago—declared his promise. Even the most skeptical odds rolled twenty-to-one! Hah. You can bet there’ll be endless lines queuing at rooftops nearby; installing fences should happen fast perhaps, don’t you agree?"

‘"No...!"

Even more teachers wailed in grief:

"My bonus, how can I live without you!"

"......"

Professor Pualn glanced at the wailing Teacher Kaid and said expressionlessly:

"Hand in a 100,000-word review to me tomorrow, and say goodbye to your bonus for this semester."

And so the wailing became even more miserable.

Only, after a short period of clamour, everyone was quiet once again.

A dozen pairs of eyes, quietly glanced at Professor Pulan.

Professor Pualn so hates that Moen Campbell, this time ...... should not be angry.

No, now maybe already angry, look at Kaid who crashed into his gun is so miserable!

If I continue to stay here ......

"That ...... I'm a little unwell, so I'll take my leave."

Fran was the first to say goodbye.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm also a little unwell......"

"I forgot to switch off the gas at home......"

"My wife is about to give birth......"

A whole bunch of teachers, as if their memories had suddenly become better, one by one suddenly remembered that something was wrong at home, and they skipped off with their feet wiping the oil.

In the end, only Professor Gran was left, staring at the always expressionless Professor Pulan in the quiet office for a while, and finally couldn't help but say:

"As a professor, there's no need to get angry with a little kid."

"I'm not angry."

"Nonsense, your look tells everything."

"I'm not angry."

Professor Pulan emphasised, and then raised his hand violently, smashing his beloved antique desk with a slap under Professor Gran's shocked sight.

Gran froze for a while then made a move, trembling, said:

"Actually......, I was joking."

"But I wasn't joking."

Professor Pulan picked up a piece of wood shavings, hesitated for a moment, and then put it into his mouth.

Chews.

Then swallows.

"I never joke."

Then, picking up another piece, he put it in his mouth.

As a Crowned, it wasn't that hard for him to eat some wood.

It’s just that, although this expensive redwood carried a natural fragrance, eating it was incredibly bitter.

Moreover, it hurt inside.

“I’m not angry.”

Professor Pulan emphasized again in a casual tone:

“Why would I be angry?

As an educator, as a teacher, watching my student return to the right path, a prodigal turning back—this is the most joyful thing, isn’t it?”

"I am merely ashamed, ashamed of my own inadequacy, ashamed of my lack of discernment. I, who pride myself as a veteran educator, only during the recent exam realized what was hidden in that boy’s eyes.

——What an intense blaze that is, like a lion roaring under the sunset!"

Professor Pulan clenched his fist abruptly, crushing the corner of his desk and continued stuffing it into his mouth.

He clenched his teeth and chewed the redwood forcefully, as if squeezing out tears to wash away the murkiness in his eyes that clouded his judgment:

"That youth, Moen Campbell, he is not the spoiled brat we assumed him to be—he is the true heir to the name of Campbell Duke!"

"No, I have a premonition: his future accomplishments might even exceed his father’s!"

"Surpass Duke Campbell? That Lion King?"

Professor Gran’s eyes widened in astonishment upon hearing this. He hadn’t expected Professor Pulan to hold Moen Campbell in such high regard.

After all, that Ron Campbell was one of the outstanding names among the successive Campbell dukes.

“That’s almost impossible, isn’t it?”

“Impossible?”

Professor Pulan didn’t refute; instead, he countered:

“Do you know the last time I saw such an expression in someone’s eyes?”

“Who?” Professor Gran was startled.

“You’ve seen them before.”

Professor Pulan’s eyelids lowered, and his tone became somber:

“My other foolish student who was controlled by the goddess of love.”

The Pure Saintess.

The one who had been missing for twenty years, yet even now had countless statues erected in her honor and followers who still revered her.

The courageous girl who never yielded to the God of Love.

“……”

Professor Gran fell into silence, further shocked.

After a moment, his expression turned serious as he questioned,

“Are you saying… Moen Campbell will one day become a saintess, too?”

“……”

Professor Pulan’s expression froze, nearly choking.

Professor Gran, however, patted his shoulder with a smirk:

“Alright, alright, don’t blame yourself too much. Even the best of teachers can’t possibly see through every student. At least you didn’t ruin his potential, right?”

“But he’s a genius who could score eighty points in just one month. Last semester, under my guidance, he only managed to learn a single spell—Lighting Spell.”

Professor Pulan replied faintly.

“……”

Professor Gran’s face stiffened, followed by an embarrassed and irritated retort:

“Well, there it is! And you’re still claiming you’re not angry!”

“I’m not.”

Professor Pulan continued gnawing on the corner of the desk, saying:

“And even if Moen Campbell didn’t score eighty this time, I would still fulfill my promise.”

“Hm?”

“Do you not recall? At the start of the semester, I said the same thing: if Moen Campbell truly transformed, I would eat my desk.”

Professor Pulan sighed:

“Thus, ever since the exam ended, I knew—regardless of the score, this desk was going to be consumed by me.”

…

…

After finishing the entire desk, Professor Pulan hurried off without saying what he was going to do next.

Only Professor Gran remained in the office.

As though recalling something, he once again picked up Moen’s test paper to study it carefully.

Finally, on the question Professor Pulan had just pointed out as mistakenly judged, he discerned a faint trace of magical energy.

“Well, well, just as I thought. Fran, the teacher, has decent cultivation—even under pressure, she wouldn’t make such an obvious error right in front of so many eyes.”

Professor Gran stroked his chin and smiled gleefully:

“Pulan the rigid actually indulged in a little mischief for once, huh?”