I Became The Academy’s Narrow-Eyes - Chapter 71: Fated Rivalry (1)

It was ideal.

In the future shown by Endiagon, Phibian was living the life she had dreamed of.

Above all, in that future, it was also true that she had topped the entrance examination.

“What did you see in the future, Miss Vivian?”

This annoying man.

Since the entrance ceremony, they’ve been enhancing the prestige of their Swordsmanship Department through shrewd politicking.

Conversely, if it wasn’t for this irritating new representative of the Swordsmanship Department, who had embarrassed our Magic Department that I represent.

Wouldn’t the future I see be even more splendid?

Struggling to emerge from the afterglow of the ideal future she had experienced, Phibian suddenly became free from that afterglow the moment she heard Ceylon’s voice as if she had never been caught up in it until just before.

It was like waking up in the worst way from the best dream.

“…”

She had felt like she was being manipulated by this man for a while now.

Phibian glared at him with all the annoyance she could muster.

But that was only for a moment.

‘Hmph.’

She soon wore a serene smile.

Clearly.

The future I saw is definitely going to be more brilliant than the future he saw.

Keeping that in mind allowed her to feel a mental superiority.

-Gleefully

The unique impression as if he was laughing with those slitted eyes.

Phibian felt as though Silon had been mocking her with his gaze.

She wanted to compare their futures right away and give him a sense of defeat.

But she restrained herself.

Because Ceylon had mispronounced her name.

Phibian decided to ignore him until he called her by her proper name.

‘Haha.’

Anticipating Ceylon’s reaction, Phibian smiled contentedly.

What will you do if I ignore you?

Huh? What can you do, other than correct the wrong name you called and call it again?

While pretending to ignore him, Phibian glanced at his response out of the corner of her eye.

“…”

However, Ceylon simply shrugged his shoulders in response to Phibian’s silence and withdrew his interest from her.

Seemingly out of mere formality that he tried to call out to her.

“Vivian!!!”

Eventually, unable to hold back, Phibian felt blood rush to the back of her neck and impulsively shouted.

“Yes?”

What followed was an even more embarrassing reaction from Ceylon.

As if asking himself, ‘Why is she suddenly like this?’ he looked baffled.

And that was poured over Phibian like fuel to the fire.

She became more indignant and jabbed accusingly at him.

“It’s Phi-bi-an. Phi, bi, an! You ignorant man! Can’t remember a person’s name correctly!?”

“Uh? Hm… Ah!”

What’s going on with this girl?

Ah? Ah! I must have called the wrong name!

The man seemed to have undergone a genuine change of heart as he awkwardly smiled in embarrassment.

“Wow~ my apologies. Miss Vivian, as you pointed out, a fool like me finds it difficult to pronounce such a unique- no, a wonderful name. I’ve committed a discourtesy. I apologize.”

“vi-vi- unique-”

Phibian nearly lost her composure feeling the direct stab as he mispronounced her name again while offering his apologies.

‘This man, he’s doing this on purpose from the start.’

She barely held back.

If she shows anger here, it’s playing right into this man’s intentions and she’s the fool again.

At the academy, the Swordsmanship and Magic Departments are bitter rivals.

And of course, the relationship between the representatives topping their respective departments in each year goes without saying.

The man as the Swordsmanship Department’s top representative, her competitor.

And despite his dumb-looking appearance, he was cunning and shrewd.

That was the impression of Ceylon that had taken root in Phibian’s mind through a series of events.

If she gets excited facing this man, then she loses.

Phibian emphasized this point to herself as she tackled Ceylon.

“Sure. I’ll forgive you. Certainly, my name isn’t too easy to pronounce with your accent.”

Phibian responded.

By displaying the distinctive accent of a high noble, she highlighted the difference between her own and Ceylon’s pronunciation.

Commoners, upon entering the academy, could be treated similarly to nobles.

But that doesn’t make them real nobles.

The differences in their origins, where nobility and commonality are distinctly separated, become apparent.

The most everyday, yet crucial, display of this distinction was in the accent.

The accents of nobles and commoners were clearly distinguished, as if they were speaking different languages.

This disparity in accent brought pride to the nobles and a sense of inferiority to the commoners.

Had it been another commoner, they might not have been able to maintain their composure against Phibian’s attack at this moment.

“Haha, you are a generous person, Miss Virian.”

But this peculiar commoner maintained it well.

Even mockingly praising the noble who’s ignoring him with a light laugh.

Once again, Phibian was left looking petty.

While Ceylon, with his bold strategy of self-deprecation, might have seemed cowardly and lacking in pride, it didn’t affect him because his dumb and listless demeanor had already been established.

This had been validated during the introduction of the department leaders with his ‘Congratulate Myself Alone’ strategy.

“No offense, monolid boy.”

Phibian smiled with dignity.

On the surface.

‘Eeeek…! Does this man have no pride at all!?”

But inside, she was seething with frustration.

“So, what brings you here?”

Meanwhile, Ceylon casually threw out the question.

“What? What brings me here?”

Caught off guard by the unpredictable turn of the conversation, Phibian responded with a blank expression.

“What brings you to call me? Do you have something to say to me?”

“What nonsense!? You called me!”

Oops!

Phibian inadvertently got agitated again by the man’s dumbfounded appearance.

Brimming with excitement.

There was Ceylon, laughing gleefully again as she looked at her.

She couldn’t just be outsmarted like this.

“I’m sure, I had no interest in you. Weren’t you the one who approached me first? Asking about my future and what I saw.”

“Yes? Oh, I did. But since you didn’t reply, I thought you didn’t want to talk. Why are you approaching me now?”

‘Because you called my name wrong!!!’

Phibian wanted to scream that.

But that would make her the petty one again.

Just as this crafty man intended!

So what should she do?

“I thought you were calling another person. After all, how could the top representative of the Swordsmanship Department’s new students make such a stupid mistake as forgetting a name and getting a title wrong…unless, of course, one is usually like that.”

Confident that she had countered perfectly, Phibian internally cheered.

This is it!

With this move, she thought, even that serpent-like man Ceylon wouldn’t be able to escape!

“Hm? Did I really do that? I thought I pronounced it correctly, but hmm… tricky business. Anyway, if you felt offended, I sincerely apologize.”

But once again, Phibian’s expectations were dashed as Ceylon faced her attack with an overwhelming shamelessness written all over his face, as if he had plated his face with iron.

‘What the…!’

Phibian’s attack came back at her entirely. She had become a petty noble who held on to the slight mispronunciation just to use it to humiliate and embarrass the other person.

At this moment, Phibian realized with absolute clarity.

He’s a malevolent spirit.

A malevolent spirit that would willingly throw away pride if it meant putting someone else to shame.

On the other hand, for a noble, face and pride are second only to the bitterest importance.

Arguing against such a man as a noble versus a commoner is practically an act of self-destruction.

She felt the pressing need to quickly change the field of the fight.

“Well, regardless. You did ask me what kind of future I saw, didn’t you?”

She lured him onto a stage where she held the advantage.

“Guess what? Perhaps the future you saw is just a pitiful one when compared to the resplendent future I envision?”

Interpreted, what Phibian said meant:

‘Didn’t the dean guarantee that, in the future, I, as a talent, will achieve a higher realm than you?’

This was no longer a prideful quarrel between noble and commoner.

It was a struggle between powerhouses.

The struggle of pride between talented individuals.

No matter that man Ceylon’s pride as a talent, he would not willingly discard his pride in this situation.

‘Well, what are you going to do now?’

Phibian thought.

Now, Ceylon would be unable to resist speaking to her.

Asking her just what she had seen in the future to be so haughty.

Then she would inquire gently, revealing the future she saw and asking what kind of future he beheld.

Surely then, Ceylon, having perceived a future less impressive than her own, would tremble with indignation, and eventually dismiss it as mere illusion magic—

The pathetic denial of reality, right?

With that, the contest (?) would be her victory.

Phibian waited for Ceylon’s response with a provoking smile that insinuated she had struck a blow to his pride.

“Is that so? Well… how should I put it? Impressive. Ah, looks like everyone is disbanding. Well then, Miss Vibian. It was a pleasure chatting.”

“Uh…?”

Suddenly, the quarrel was abruptly concluded.

Phibian was dumbfounded.

She ruminated over the aspects of the recent dialogue a bit too late to try to understand the situation.

On reflection.

First of all, it was her victory.

In the struggle where the pride of the talented was at stake, Ceylon acknowledged Phibian without uttering a single counterargument.

And then he left his seat just like that.

The intense (?) pride fight between the representative of the Swordsmanship Department’s freshmen and that of the Magic Department.

The clear victor was Phibian.

“…”

Yet, Phibian wore an expression of emptiness which would suit a loser.

Because, no matter how favorably one might view it, her reflection did not resemble a triumphant winner.

-Guess what? Perhaps the future you saw is just a pitiful one when compared to the resplendent future I envision?

Herself, provocatively and childishly boastful.

-Is that so? Well… should I say I’m envious, or should I say that’s impressive?

Ceylon, flustered by the provocation but not emotionally responsive, calmly acknowledged her.

-Ah, looks like everyone is disbanding. Well then, Miss Vibian. It was a pleasure chatting.

And then Ceylon, as if the entire conversation was merely an accompaniment to killing time, left without any attachment.

There were images of a petty and childish Magic Department’s top representative who fusses nonsensically, and a magnanimous Swordsmanship Department representative who generously embraces such an unsightly character.

Suddenly.

The last image of Ceylon flickered through Phibian’s mind.

His meaningful smile as he looked at her before giving a bow.

History repeats itself, they say.

The representative of the Swordsmanship Department’s freshmen, who had turned the competition of the Magic Department’s freshmen into petty people through a perfect hit-and-run during the introduction, had once again made the Magic Department’s top representative look petty and childish through that same move.

Phibian’s clenched fists trembled violently.

“Vibian…?”

Giggling.

Beaming.

Images of Ceylon who had – certainly on purpose – mispronounced her name flashed through Phibian’s mind.

‘Vivian ~’

‘Virian ~’

‘Vibian~’

His unique faces, which seemed to mock her, repeated the same dialogue in unison.

‘It seems I’m the winner this time~’

Aaaaargh!

Phibian shook her head violently.

Her lush brown hair tied back, fluttered in the air.

“I, I can’t let it end like this…!”

-Whoosh!

A whirlwind arose, showcasing Phibian’s specialty: wind magic.

She chased after Ceylon, who had left the grand hall, at tremendous speed.

He was heading somewhere amidst the attention of many freshmen.

“Representative of the Swordsmanship Department’s freshmen, Ceylon!”

“Hm?”

Whoosh!

Her school uniform’s skirt came to a sudden halt, revealing the bloomers beneath.

Her ponytail-like hair unfurled in the wind.

She looked like the incarnation of the wind summon, taking human form.

With such an appearance, Phibian faced Ceylon.

“As the representative of the Magic Department’s freshmen, I challenge you to a representative match!”

Just as the freshmen of the Magic and Swordsmanship Departments were divided left and right in the grand hall.

The freshmen outside of the grand hall were also split left and right, and an ambiguous current flowed between them.

There was an invisible current flowing between the sophomores on the platform, the same one that now flowed between the freshmen.

It was a strong current of competitive spirit, each wanting to assert their superiority over the other.

“Whoaaa!!!”

Upon the declaration of the Magic Department’s representative, a cheer erupted from the midst of the magic department’s freshmen.

The freshmen of the Swordsmanship Department turned to look at their representative.

“Haha, that sounds like fun.”

A thunderous cheer burst from the ranks of the Swordsmanship Department.

In front of the grand hall, the two boisterous groups, each led by their representative, were now confronting each other’s rival competitively.

And so.

Phibian, with the help of the strong wind, had established a chance to redeem herself from the two humiliations she had suffered during the entrance ceremony.

“…”

But why?

Gleefully.

Phibian looked at Ceylon’s face.

His eyes were lightly slit as usual, but his expression seemed delightfully cheerful.

And then Phibian felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

And she belatedly questioned her own decision.

‘Is this right…?’

For a fleeting moment, she had the illusion that she was being played by him.

NOTE: First, I really like Ceylon playful character, but now, it seems very annoying to read because it makes the story slow + shows that the heroines are very childish.