I Became The Academy’s Narrow-Eyes

Chapter 80: The Despicable Human

Ceylon had two objectives for participating in this representative battle.

One was to tease Phibian.

The other was the authority granted to the winner of the representative battle.

The winner of the representative battle could make one demand of the losing side.

[Main Quest: The Promising Hero’s Seedling]

– Achieve a 3-star level within one week.

>Swordsmanship Division: Swordsmanship Level 20

>Magic Division: Magic Level 20

According to Ceylon’s judgment, the main quest was impossible to complete through normal means.

The best way to clear this quest was with the help of Phibian.

And considering the help he would ask of Phibian,

he needed that authority of the victor.

‘Sigh…’

After many complications, Ceylon had finally secured that authority by winning the representative battle.

‘Now what?’

The problem was,

while he had managed to secure the authority, it wasn’t solely Ceylon’s to claim.

The representative battle was exactly that – a competition that represented both the Swordsmanship and Magic Divisions.

It was a match where not just the individuals participating but the honor of the whole group was at stake.

Therefore, the victor’s authority that came with winning that match also belonged to the group, not just one person.

Customarily, the authority of the victor should be used for the group, not personal gain.

But what Ceylon was about to ask of Phibian was solely for himself, not for the group.

Ceylon deliberated.

How could he monopolize this victor’s authority?

‘Agh, the guilt…!’

He didn’t actually feel any.

In fact, there wasn’t much a winner could demand from the losing side anyway due to an unspoken agreement not to affect each other’s academics.

It could be to force an apology if a dispute occurred between the Swordsmanship and Magic Divisions,

or to brand the loser with the mark of “defeated” for a certain period.

These were typical uses for a victor’s authority.

Of course, that was attraction enough as a reward, since the representative battle was essentially a matter of pride.

‘What to do.’

How could he use this public asset for his own personal gain?

How could he convince his prickly classmates to willingly surrender this public good for his sake?

“Ugh… quick, say something!”

While Ceylon was deep in thought, Phibian, looking anxious, urged him.

“Hmm, well~”

Ceylon, enjoying Phibian’s reaction, continued his contemplation, wearing an insinuating expression to add to her anxiety.

Should he pretend to have reflexively said something because Phibian was pressing him?

‘No, that’s not it.’

He needed to persuade the stakeholders to avoid any backlash.

Having made that decision, Ceylon spoke up.

“First, I would like to discuss this with my classmates.”

Hehehe.

Ceylon and the other Swordsmanship Division freshmen all sported mischievous smiles.

Ugh-

The faces of Phibian and the other Magic Division freshmen filled with apprehension.

Ceylon turned his back on Phibian and faced the Swordsmanship Division camp.

‘Oh?’

Surveying the freshmen of the Swordsmanship Division, Ceylon inwardly exclaimed.

‘Are these really the same guys?’

Ceylon recalled moments right after the third phase of the entrance examination.

His classmates were looking at him with suspicion and contempt.

Then at the entrance ceremony,

they regarded him rather coldly.

“…”

“…”

“…”

But now, those same people were watching Ceylon with gleaming eyes.

Before they were nobles, they were warriors.

No matter how skilled they were, they would not tolerate someone of noble birth and extraordinary dignity being placed above them if one did not possess both.

The reaction they showed Ceylon at the entrance ceremony was a prime example.

On the surface, they recognized Ceylon as a representative, clapping for him.

But internally, they felt humiliated, ‘such a person represents us?’

They may acknowledge him superficially, but in reality, they’re being ignored.

This was the most that Ceylon, a commoner, could expect from typical nobles.

And yet, Ceylon had now surpassed that.

The eyes beholding Ceylon now seemed to say, ‘He’s worthy, isn’t he?’

And their thoughts matched their expressions.

In unity.

The initial reason the classmates doubted and disregarded Ceylon,

his silly demeanor and lowly commoner birth.

These points no longer mattered to them.

Clearly, beyond their class, they were genuinely acknowledging Ceylon as an individual.

‘Suddenly?’

While it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling,

it would certainly make negotiating with them much easier.

But separate from that, the suddenness was undeniable.

After all.

Hadn’t he proven himself plenty during the entrance exam?

He toppled Drin Lebringer and Kasha Hanahan, securing first place in the third exam.

When suspicions arose, he clinched a decisive victory over Agion Morci, putting an end to the doubts.

Did another proof of his worth after defeating Phibian actually change anything?

Ceylon himself might have thought that way but,

there was a clear difference.

When Ceylon proved himself during the entrance exam,

he was an outsider among his classmates.

A commoner, not a noble.

His classmates didn’t see him as a peer.

So, even if Ceylon elevated his worth through proof, to them, it was either insignificant or humiliating.

However, now Ceylon represented them as a member of the Swordsmanship Division.

The value he raised through proving himself now,

equally elevated the worth of the Swordsmanship Division and by extension, the worth of his classmates.

In short,

the freshmen of the Swordsmanship Division now felt positively about the silly man who, despite being a commoner, had lifted their noble names higher.

Even if it wasn’t respect they felt, at least they were far from negative feelings.

“Representative! Why are you standing there blankly! Say something!”

What to do with these guys?

How to persuade them?

While Ceylon silently mulled over this, one of his classmates boldly spoke up.

Then snickers spread among them as if finding it all cute.

‘What’s this about.’

Ceylon felt as if he were a nephew performing at a family gathering on a holiday.

‘Huh?’

That’s when it hit him—a flash of insight.

Ceylon suddenly raised his hand, a look of realization on his face.

“Everyone, we’ve won.”

Assertive in declaring victory,

his classmates smiled at him.

The guy.

Is really pleased with himself.

How cute.

Yes, let him enjoy the moment.

We’ll join in and celebrate too.

Their smiles seemed to convey that message.

“This victory was achieved by all of you.”

But, when Ceylon raised his arm high toward them, speaking very politely—

“Wowwwww!!!”

The complex emotions in their expressions turned into pure ecstasy.

While the nephew stays still, the aunts and uncles are more excited, causing a fuss.

“Heh.”

Ceylon inwardly smiled as he observed them.

That moment of clarity that had just passed by was now in Ceylon’s hands.

These nobles…

He thought of them as awfully complicated and bothersome creatures, but they didn’t all seem to be that easy to summarize.

At that moment, Ceylon felt he had come to understand these people known as nobles to some extent, as well as how to handle them.

“Thanks to our classmates, unanimously recognized as exceptionally talented, I am fortunate to share this unmerited glory of victory. I would like to take this opportunity to once again express my gratitude to my esteemed classmates.”

Ceylon bowed respectfully toward them.

Here’s the point:

He completely lowered himself while elevating the others.

At the same time, he claimed noble etiquette, though it may have been unpolished.

“Uaaagh!!!”

At Ceylon’s perhaps commendable actions, the classmates moved beyond pure joy to even showing their affection.

“This guy Ceylon…! We are proud of you too!!!”

“Ceylon! Lift your head up with pride!!! You deserve it!!!”

They cheered, almost screaming with enthusiasm.

Then, Ceylon, flustered, quickly lifted his head with an ‘oops’.

“Oh no…! I apologize!”

“What’s there to apologize for, Ceylon!!!”

“No matter what, there’s no need for apologies!!!”

“Your manners may not be perfect, but they were still great!!!”

“It’s just that…”

Ceylon said, wearing a bashful expression.

“That’s right. As you all have said, I should no longer bow my head carelessly. Now that I am a member of the Swordsmanship Division just like you, I must act with pride and care.”

Here’s the key point:

He referred to himself not as a top student or a leader but simply as a member of the Swordsmanship Division.

His expression seemed to say that was plenty to make him happy.

Thereby, once more, he lowered himself while raising others.

“Uaaaagh!!!”

“Ceylon!!!”

At such a commendable and humble gesture from Ceylon, the classmates were on the verge of crying out in joy.

“Ceylon! Ceylon!”

They again fell into a frenzy of excitement, starting to chant Ceylon’s name.

From that point on, everything flowed just as Ceylon wanted.

“So, everyone. As for our request to the Magic Division- what do you think? I have thought long and hard, but this should rightfully be your decision. After all, this victory is entirely thanks to your efforts.”

As Ceylon spoke humbly, Melhen’s eyes widened as he exclaimed.

“What are you talking about, Ceylon!!! Is there anyone here who thinks the same as Ceylon!?”

“No way!!!”

“Hey Ceylon, if it weren’t for you, no one could have defeated Leolalian! Have more confidence!!!”

“That’s correct! This victory is practically your own achievement!!!”

Under Melhen’s passionate response, everyone united to lift Ceylon’s spirits.

“Haha… everyone. I truly appreciate your kind words, even if meant as pleasantries. Anyway, let’s get back to the point, about our demand to the Magic Division—”

“Kind words?!”

Melhen once again interrupted Ceylon with bulging eyes.

“Ceylon! It’s not just kind words!!! This is a victory you earned! Without you, we wouldn’t have won the representative battle! Am I wrong?”

“You’re right!!!”

“So, Ceylon. You are fully entitled to enjoy the privilege of the winner. Actually! No one but you has the right to enjoy the victor’s privilege!!! Ceylon! You decide the demand for the Magic Division! From this moment on, we will relinquish our interest in it!”

Ceylon, while inwardly pleased with Melhen’s assertive support, outwardly feigned alarm, waving his hands.

“No, Melhen…! What in the world—”

Despite his intentions to firmly reject, other classmates raised their voices.

“That’s right!!! Melhen is correct, Ceylon!”

“It’s right that you should decide, Ceylon!!!”

“Don’t even think of refusing!!!”

Ceylon felt a sense of nostalgia in the actions of his classmates.

Where had he seen this before?

Ah yes.

Seasoned gamers coaxing a newbie.

Exactly that.

“No, what in the world—”

What Ceylon said after that didn’t matter.

They showed no inclination to take back the victor’s privilege they’d granted Ceylon.

They didn’t even listen to him.

“Ah, well, this is something…”

Absolutely brilliant.

In the end, Ceylon found himself with sole possession of the authority to make a demand to the Magic Division.

Quite unintentionally, indeed.

***

“What is this…”

Stepping back from the manic scene, Phibian inwardly panicked as she observed their behavior.

Phibian considered Ceylon to be a devious character, contrary to his appearance.

She thought she understood the essence of the person named Ceylon.

She saw in him a man who was reluctantly given authority by his classmates.

‘Not some kind of drill instructor…’

He seemed to be toying with the muscle-brained, honorable, but foolish new students of the Swordsman Division on the palm of his hand.

Phibian was afraid.

What would this cunning man, having been delegated the authority, request?

“Miss Phibian?”

Phibian’s body twitched.

Ceylon stood before her, opening his mouth to speak.

“Shall I state my demand?”

“…”

With trepidation, Phibian nodded.

Then Ceylon whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

“Would you come here at midnight tonight? We can continue the rest of our discussion then.”

Phibian scrunched her face and tilted her head in bewilderment.

It was an unexpected turn of events.

A sudden request for a confidential discussion.

And at such a late hour as midnight—

Wait?

Hold on a moment.

Ambitious time like midnight.

A secret conversation between a man and a woman.

“…!”

Suddenly, a figure popped into Phibian’s head.

It was Adella.

Phibian thought back on the sight of Adella today.

How she clung to Ceylon and tried to seduce him time and again.

Adella was a woman whose sultry aura made even another woman feel a tingling sensation somewhere in her body.

Such a woman was actively seducing him.

A tough situation for any vigorously-blooded man to endure.

Yet that man— Ceylon had seemed very detached from Adella’s temptations.

‘He must be used to it…!’

That was the conclusion Phibian came to, her imagination stimulated by the unfolding events.

The deceitfulness of this man, who seemed to toy with people while acting naïve, would undoubtedly extend to romantic relationships as well.

With such cunning, he would have extended his clutches to countless women.

Otherwise, why would charming women such as Adella, Adryn, Mizu, and Kasha show interest in such a clueless man?

That man.

Wanted a secret meeting with her at an ominous hour.

No.

He was insisting on it.

The reason was apparent.

He intended to extend his clutches to her as well.

Suddenly, Ceylon’s typically vacant, cunning-eyed appearance felt extremely devious.

It was as if his long tongue, snake-like, was flicking ready to lick his lips.

– Ssssss

Phibian felt chills all over her body and hugged herself.

“This despicable human…!”

Phibian glared at Ceylon with a look of contempt.

In her eyes now, Ceylon seemed to be wearing a very significant—

And therefore, a wicked smile.

Meanwhile, Ceylon thought to himself.

‘What’s with her?’