I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 130: I am Never Wrong

Ashok giving up on his thoughts stood still, his crimson eyes unwavering as they bore into Hamiel.

His plan had been simple—let the dwarf point out his mistake so he could dissect and counter it.

But Hamiel had just started.

With a deep exhale, the dwarf straightened his posture, adjusting his stance as if settling in for a long-winded lecture.

"That is why kids should not be arrogant," Hamiel began, his voice rumbling through the hall like rolling thunder.

"Hah! You get a few small things right, and suddenly, you believe you've mastered everything. And at the end of the day, you mess up the bigger ones."

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As the dwarf continued speaking, his mustache barely concealed the amused smile playing beneath it.

"To think you would go around declaring, 'I know everything.' Hmph! You should always remain humble, polite to your elders. You should refine your way of speaking. You would—"

It was obvious now—Hamiel was enjoying himself.

His lecture wasn't just a reprimand; it was a precise jab at Ashok's pride, sharpened into a weapon that struck exactly where it hurt most.

And the dwarf made sure the entire class was there to witness it.

Ashok could hear it—the quiet murmurs behind him, students whispering, some stifling laughter at his expense.

Their amusement grated at his patience, clawing at the edges of his mind.

He had let Hamiel speak long enough.

Without hesitation, he cut through the dwarf's words.

"Haha!" A short, deliberate laugh escaped his lips, slicing through the Hamiel's words.

"Old Man," he addressed Hamiel, his tone deceptively neutral.

His use of "Old Man" had been deliberate—respect coated in sarcasm, after all the Dwarf only wanted him to be polite towards the elders.

"Before speaking such meaningless words, why don't you point out where I was wrong?"

Mia, standing rigidly to the side, felt her patience wearing thin.

Ashok's boldness had crossed yet another threshold—first addressing a teacher so informally, and now blatantly dismissing his words as meaningless.

Every fiber of her being urged her to intervene, to halt this escalation before it spiraled further.

But before she could step forward, a voice brushed against her mind, steady and authoritative.

'Don't interrupt.'

It was Hamiel's telepathic message—firm, absolute.

The instruction forced Mia to hold her ground, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She didn't understand his reasoning, but she obeyed nonetheless.

Hamiel's bushy mustache twitched ever so slightly, and though irritation still lingered in his gaze, a sliver of amusement danced beneath it.

"Sure! It is a teacher's responsibility to guide lost students." His words carried a certain weight, an elder's wisdom wrapped in undeniable authority.

Ashok, wasted no time in responding.

"Wonderful! But I'm not interested. Does the teacher's job also come with speaking in circles before getting to the main point?"

Hamiel let out a fake cough, feigning composure. "Ahem!"

Finally, he addressed the matter at hand. "You were right about the club and the staff," he conceded, his deep voice steady. "But you were slightly wrong about the bow."

Ashok remained impassive, his crimson eyes betraying no reaction, no flicker of doubt.

Reading the unspoken challenge in those eyes, Hamiel elaborated further. "The Rune of Accuracy increases accuracy by 10%, not 5%."

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating pause fell over the hall.

"…"

"…"

"…"

Every student present turned their gaze toward Ashok's back, their expressions shifting from shock to pure disbelief.

Despite the slight miscalculation, the undeniable truth was clear—Ashok had been right all along.

The test had never been about identifying the runes; it had simply been about identifying the weapons. And he had done that effortlessly.

Mia shook her head, exhaling quietly 'How shameless,' she thought, though not entirely surprised.

She had long known that Teacher Hamiel was thick-skinned but to think he would target a student over a mere 5% discrepancy.

Yet, thinking about Adlet's personality, she decided to let things unfold without interference.

What truly caught her attention, however, was not just Ashok's brazen attitude but the fact that he had passed Hamiel's test.

'So that's why Senior Hamiel is still smiling, even after hearing such words.'

As Mia prepared to call the students forward to register their weapons, Ashok's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

"It's about time the Academy hired a new Blacksmith Teacher."

The words carried through the hall like a challenge, the weight of his mockery unmistakable. His crimson eyes bore down on Hamiel, unrelenting, daring him to respond.

Hamiel's thick brows furrowed as he straightened slightly, his rugged frame exuding authority despite the insult. "What do you mean?"

Ashok smirk deepened, his words coated in sarcasm.

"I mean with your age, your eyes have gone bad, leading to misleading judgments. You can't even tell the difference between right and wrong. That means the time for retirement has come."

Mia tensed slightly. 'He's going too far.'

"Young man, you should control your words," Hamiel warned, his voice carrying a quiet restraint.

Ashok leaned forward ever so slightly, his presence imposing.

"Old man, you should get your eyes checked because I am never wrong. You should check the rune first and then pass judgment."

His words were absolute—no hesitation, no uncertainty. He was daring Hamiel to prove him wrong.

The dwarf exhaled sharply. "You better be right, young man." His tone was firm, carrying an underlying threat.

And then, without warning—

Elira, who had been watching in silence from behind, suddenly felt the bow rip from her grasp. The force was immense, unseen, and before she could react, the weapon soared through the air at terrifying speed, landing firmly in Hamiel's waiting hands.

The Elf Princess blinked, momentarily stunned.

Under every student watching eyes Hamiel spun the bow effortlessly, pointing it downward.

A magic circle formed at the tip of his index finger, its intricate designs pulsing faintly with energy.

In an instant, the concealment magic was stripped away, revealing the rune beneath.

Its placement was deliberate—hidden right under the string notch, concealed so effectively that even after a Dispel spell was cast, it remained difficult to identify.

Hamiel angled the bow carefully, holding it in a position where both he and Ashok could clearly see the inscription.

Ashok pointed his fingers downwards at the Rune while opening his mouth,

"You should be able to see it, if your eyes haven't gone bad. The stroke on the lower end should be slightly more toward the left.

Because of this misalignment, the effect is already halved.

If the stroke had been slightly more toward the right, it would have resembled the Rune of Piercing—but as it is now, it's a failure."

Hamiel remained silent, his gaze fixed on the inscription. The seconds stretched, tense and unbroken. Then, slowly, he lifted his head.

Ashok who was expecting defeat caught something entirely different in the dwarf's expression—and for the first time, it made him hesitate.

Hamiel's eyes gleamed with unfiltered intrigue, shining like distant stars.

It wasn't frustration, nor dismissal—it was fascination.

A deep, unsettling intensity radiated from him, and for the first time, Ashok felt something off.

A slow chill crept through his spine as Hamiel took a single, deliberate step closer, his heavy boots echoing softly against the polished floor of the Weapon Hall.

His voice, usually gruff and authoritative, had softened into something far more deliberate—almost calculating. "You know how to read runes?" he asked, his tone slow, deliberate.

Ashok still high on pride remained unwavering in his stance, dismissed the significance of runes with a simple declaration.

"What's so big about a few runes? I know the entire Dwarven Tongue. Runes are just a small portion of it."

To Ashok, aside from the Five Ancient Tongues, all other languages were mere cheap imitations.

Even the Dwarven Tongue was but a fraction of the Ancient Human Tongue, a very diluted remnant of true ancient language.

Hamiel, however, wasn't deterred.

The gleam in his eyes only intensified as he set the bow down, summoning a small notepad and pen from his storage ring.

With practiced efficiency, he sketched two runes, their strokes sharp and deliberate. "Identify these two," he commanded.

Ashok's gave a short glance at the notepad and response came without hesitation.

"The first one is the Rune of Strength, the second is the Rune of Power."

Hamiel nodded, his intrigue deepening. "Difference?"

"Rune of Strength, though engraved on the weapon, affects the user. Rune of Power, on the other hand, affects only the weapon."

The dwarf's mustache twitched as he pressed further. "Which is better?"

"It depends on the weapon. Rune of Strength is better suited for lightweight weapons, whereas Rune of Power is more effective on heavier ones."

Hamiel grinned, clearly satisfied with the answer.

"Good! Good!" His excitement was palpable now, his hands moving swiftly to sketch three more runes with the same meticulous precision.

"What about these?"

Ashok didn't hesitate. "Rune of Silence, Rune of Sharpness, Rune of Protection."

Hamiel let out a loud "Great!"—his enthusiasm reaching new heights.

His fingers worked furiously as he began drawing another rune, his expression shifting from fascination to something bordering on obsession.

His eyes gleamed with an almost unsettling brightness, his entire demeanor resembling that of a craftsman who had stumbled upon something extraordinary.

Mia, watching closely, felt the shift in the atmosphere.

For the first time, she saw Hamiel genuinely excited—his passion ignited in a way that was rare to witness.

And she knew exactly what was about to happen.

Meanwhile, the other students had been completely disregarded, their presence forgotten in the sheer intensity of the exchange.

Alina, standing at the back, clenched her fists tightly, her glare fixed on Ashok. 'That bastard… Just where did he learn about ancient languages?' The thought burned in her mind, laced with frustration and disbelief.