The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World-Chapter 54: A Fool
As he lingered in thought, a shadow stretched over his desk, obscuring the parchment list before him.
Someone had approached him.
Ruvian looked up without speaking.
Corwin Dunley stood there, shoulders slightly hunched, the paper in his hand bent where his fingers gripped too tightly.
His voice came quietly, almost apologetic.
"T-thank you for the other day."
"It’s fine." Ruvian nodded, as if to acknowledge it, though his gaze drifted back to his own form.
Corwin lingered in front of Ruvian. There was something he wanted to talk about.
"I was thinking of choosing Intermediate Magic Theory," he said slowly, the words awkward in his mouth, as if he were unsure of them even as he spoke.
"And... Runic Inscriptions."
’Huh? I mean, sure... No, wait. Why would he come here just to tell me that?’ Ruvian tilted his head slightly. ’Is this about striving to become a mage? He still hasn’t let it go?’
"So?" Ruvian asked.
He breathed out through his nose, already reaching for a few noncommittal words, something vague and polite to send Corwin on his way.
A generic wish of good luck, perhaps.
It was his decision, after all.
But before he could speak, Corwin spoke first. There was a visible tremble in the paper he held, not from fear, but from a feeling of greater conflict.
The boy’s voice cracked slightly as he continued.
"...That was my first thought," he said, a dry, self-mocking laugh slipping from him before he caught it.
"But now, I don’t know. Maybe I’m... Maybe I’m just being stubborn."
Corwin hesitated, then looked at Ruvian.
"What do you think I should do?"
Ruvian’s face became pensive, momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected Corwin to waver, much less ask him for his opinion.
Suddenly, Ruvian recalled what he had said to him yesterday.
—"Calm your mind first. Then decide what you will do next? If you have no answer, seek guidance."
Then, he leaned back in his chair with a calm smile. His gaze landed thoughtfully back on Corwin.
"I see. Why not Alchemy then?" (+30PP)
Corwin blinked, surprised. "A-alchemy?"
Ruvian nodded, his expression calm.
"Maybe it’s time you try something new."
Corwin lowered his gaze, repeating the word under his breath, testing its shape as if unsure it belonged to him.
"...Alchemy, eh?" His voice was softer this time, less uncertain, though still unsure. "I-I will think about it!"
He looked back at Ruvian after a pause with curiosity.
"What about you, Ruvian? Have you decided?"
Ruvian glanced down at his list, then back up without much change in expression. There was a slight shrug of his shoulders, almost imperceptible.
"If you take Alchemy, then I will too."(+20PP)
Corwin stiffened, his posture snapping upright. Ruvian’s words had landed unexpectedly. His eyes widened, then narrowed.
"T-That’s not fair!" he blurted out, voice climbing higher than intended.
Ruvian rested his arm loosely against the side of his chair, his face wearing the faintest echo of amusement.
"I’m joking," he said simply, offering a shrug.
"But I was already planning to take it, either way."
Corwin was unsure if he was supposed to be relieved or suspicious. He tried to piece together the sequence of logic, only to find it refusing to line up.
"Wait. So you suggested Alchemy to me... and now you’re telling me you’re taking it too?"
He looked directly at Ruvian now.
"Do you actually have an interest in Alchemy?" Corwin asked.
"Interest in Alchemy?" Ruvian repeated. "Nope, not even the slightest. But there’s always something good to learn regarding Alchemy."
"Ohh..." Corwin’s mouth opened, then closed again.
He glanced down at his elective sheet as if expecting it to provide some kind of answer, then looked back at Ruvian, baffled.
Ruvian, of course, offered no further explanation. He stood up and went to submit his elective class form.
*****
[Instructor Edvoss’s POV]
The soft knock at the door broke the silence of the room.
The steady scratch of his quill against parchment carried on as usual. Whoever stood outside the door didn’t knock again.
They knew better that they had the permission to enter. A second later, the door opened just wide enough to admit a single figure.
He came with a soft shuffle of footsteps and a clean stack of papers being placed squarely at the center of the desk.
"Class E Elective selections, Instructor Edvoss," the man said.
Edvoss passively looked up.
His eyes found the face of his assistant and gave him a nod, almost imperceptible, and the young man turned without waiting for a response.
The door shut behind him, leaving him all alone again.
Edvoss leaned back slightly as he brought the stack closer. His hands moved, fingers flipping through each sheet.
One by one, the selections passed before him. Some were predictable, almost rehearsed.
"Cooking. Tailoring. Agriculture. Cultural and Racial Studies."
The words left his lips in a flat murmur, more thought than speech. He wasn’t disappointed. Just... unsurprised.
These were the average electives chosen by those already bowing to the weight of reality—Class E scholars. He didn’t care much; at least they knew to always opt for what was best for them over risk.
Then he stopped.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and his hand held still over the next sheet.
Violet.
{Magic Combat}, {Noble Etiquette}, and {Dungeon Trip}.
The name sat there, inked in calm strokes, but something about it refused to sit quietly.
’Why did she choose {Noble Etiquette}?’
But it was not his concern.
He moved on, flipping through the stack, eyes skimming over more names until his fingers stilled once more.
His hand stopped again.
The next sheet didn’t pass as easily.
There was a brief pause, just a second or two longer than the others, before he brought it closer and read the name.
"Ruvian... Castelor?"
His brows furrowed, then his gaze dropped to the elective choices scrawled across the paper.
{Dungeon Trip}
{Voidspawns Hunting}
{Wilderness Survival}
{Mathematics}
{Herbalogy}
{Alchemy}
{Magic Combat}
A sharp, incredulous breath escaped him.
"...Seven electives?" (+100PP)
The words barely came out of him, caught between disbelief and dangerously close to exasperation.
His hand lifted to the bridge of his nose.
This wasn’t what he had expected. Not from someone in Class E. He had seen scholars try to prove something before. Most of them burned out quietly.
"Is this another reckless pursuit born of ignorance?" He sighed.
Ambition had its place. But this? This was not ambition.
This was recklessness!
"Does he think the world will turn to his ambition as easily as wishing it? Haaa... What am I doing? I should stop troubling myself over it. There will always be that one naive scholar every single year."
He had expected desperation from Class E, had expected caution, resignation, and quiet acceptance of reality.
But this...
This was a boy standing at the bottom of a mountain, staring at the peak as if sheer will alone could carry him to the top.
Edvoss let the sheet slip from his fingers, drumming against the desk’s surface in contemplation.
"Either he refuses to accept his place, or he’s simply...."
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[Chapter 54: A Fool]
PP= 11140
