The next day, the final Magic Fundamentals and Theory class before Open Campus Day.

Since the teachers had graded all the exams quickly, this class was effectively just for announcing results.

Muen arrived early and took his usual seat by the window.

Resting his cheek on his hand, he gazed at the drifting clouds outside, trying to keep himself calm.

The wait before results was always the hardest—but Muen didn’t feel that way.

He was absolutely certain that he had done his utmost. So no matter the result, he could face it without guilt.

All that was left was to quietly await the heavens’ verdict.

Time passed. Students slowly filtered into the classroom.

Chatting, laughing, walking in pairs and trios. It looked peaceful on the surface, but many couldn’t help sneaking glances at the blond boy by the window.

Muen didn’t care. He was used to it by now.

Ariel stormed in right as the bell rang and shot a fierce glare at the boy who once again had taken her seat. Then, dragging Liya by the arm, she sat at another window-side desk.

“That Muen Campbell—he really doesn’t look nervous at all.”

Liya blinked and looked toward Muen, curiosity in her eyes.

“Hmph. What good is being nervous? He’s still going to fail.”

Ariel folded her arms and scoffed coldly.

“Don’t jinx it. What if he really did get an eighty?”

“Impossible.”

Ariel sounded absolutely certain.

After all, during yesterday’s exam, she hadn’t sat far from Muen.

Just in case, she had asked her Master—in soul form—to sneak a look at Muen’s paper while Professor Prang was distracted.

Sure enough, just as expected: seventy-nine points!

Ha! Seventy-nine! Not eighty!

That means I win this time!

Sure, the winnings probably weren’t even enough to buy a full chicken thigh, but a win’s a win!

When the time came, she would absolutely savor that crispy chicken thigh while mocking Muen Campbell into the ground!

Ariel beamed to herself in triumph.

Just then, Professor Fulan walked into the room and addressed the class:

“Next, I’ll be announcing the results from yesterday’s exam.”

At her words, the still-chattering classroom instantly fell silent.

Everyone stared at her in anticipation.

It was just a monthly assessment—it didn’t have much weight in terms of credits. Normally, no one would care this much.

But this time was different. More than their own scores, everyone was dying to know whether that duke’s son—who had boasted so boldly a month ago—had actually pulled it off.

“Tyke Rod, fifty-three...”

“Gucci Sloane, sixty-one...”

“...”

“Ariel Bugaard—one hundred points!”

“Whoa!”

“What?!”

“One hundred?!”

The moment Ariel’s score was read aloud, the room exploded.

One hundred?!

Someone got a hundred on Magic Fundamentals and Theory?

Had anyone ever scored a hundred on that exam?

All eyes turned to Ariel, stunned. A chill ran through them as they realized just how terrifying this girl really was.

Ariel, in turn, curved her lips in that signature cocky smile and strutted proudly to the podium to retrieve her exam paper.

She turned around and shot a provocative glance at Muen.

You’re not the only one who worked hard!

But Muen didn’t even notice Ariel’s look. His gaze was fixed firmly on Professor Fulan, waiting for that one name.

“Next—”

“Muen Campbell.”

The room, which had just been roaring over Ariel’s score, instantly went dead silent.

So many eyes fixed on him made even Professor Fulan visibly nervous. She paused for a beat, then announced:

“Eighty!”

“WHAA—!”

A wave of chaos surged through the room, far louder than when Ariel scored a hundred. It was loud enough to blow the roof off.

“He really got eighty?!”

“No way. He actually did it?”

“Just barely? Couldn’t he have cheated?”

“Impossible. Professor Prang personally supervised that exam.”

“So that means...”

“We’re screwed. See you on the rooftop.”

After the initial shock came the gamblers’ collective wails of despair.

But Muen heard none of it.

In his ears, there were only two words echoing over and over—

Eighty.

He had done it.

He’d really done it.

He really, truly did it.

Though he had kept telling himself to stay calm, to accept any result with composure...

When those two words reached his ears, he couldn’t hold back the surge of emotion.

What now?

Should he cheer?

Cry?

Dance?

Sprint around the campus in circles?

Or should he run straight to tell Senior Sister the good news?

Ah, right—his test paper. He needed to get that first.

Muen walked up to the podium, but Professor Fulan gave him a sheepish smile and said:

“Sorry... Professor Garan accidentally spilled coffee on it, so... your paper met a glorious end.”

“...Huh?”

“B-But don’t worry about the score! I graded «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» your paper in front of all the other professors, so there’s no question about the accuracy!”

Seeing Muen’s confused expression, she quickly added reassurance.

“I see.”

Muen shrugged with a sigh, not particularly bothered.

The paper wasn’t what mattered.

The score was.

A month’s worth of effort hadn’t been wasted—and that alone was enough.

“Um... Muen.”

Professor Fulan suddenly called him again.

“You’re really amazing, you know. Not just me—all the professors think you’re incredible.”

“...Thank you.”

Muen paused in surprise, then smiled and thanked her. He turned to walk away, his steps noticeably lighter.

But just then—

“NOOOOOO—!”

A scream tore through the classroom, making him jolt.

Ariel collapsed to her knees, both hands slapping the floor.

Despite holding the highest score in the class—possibly an unprecedented perfect score—she now looked like the most miserable person in the room.

Even the students who had lost tens of thousands in bets couldn’t help glancing her way.

Did she seriously bet her wife or something?!

“Why? WHY?! How could I lose like this?!”

Ariel pounded the floor with her fists, screaming from the depths of her soul:

“My lunch money! My chicken thigh! I don’t want to eat black bread! It’ll shrink my chest!!”

Everyone: “...”

Muen: “...”

...

...

“Yay! We won!!”

As Muen’s results spread through the school like wildfire, elsewhere, a very different atmosphere took hold.

Three cute girls jumped up and down, cheering in excitement. The months of frustration had finally exploded into joyful vindication.

“Hmph! I knew Muen would do it!”

Emma, with her signature twin pigtails, struck a triumphant pose:

“As his number one fan, my judgment is never wrong!”

“Exactly!”

“Those who looked down on Muen are probably fuming right now!”

The other two girls joined in, cheeks flushed pink like they were tipsy.

But nearby, Senior Fanny didn’t say a word. She was completely dazed, mentally calculating.

The three brats had pressured her endlessly into betting her spare five thousand Emiels on Muen Campbell.

And now... twenty times that was...

One hundred thousand!

One. Hundred. Thousand!

That wasn’t a small sum.

With that money, she could buy all the new clothes she wanted. New brushes. Even expensive materials for magic study.

But more importantly—

Fanny snuck a look at the still-giddy trio and swallowed hard.

Those three came from wealthy families. Even their “pocket money” bets had probably been in the tens of thousands.

And twenty times that...

Holy shit.

At this rate... those three little brats had just become rich women overnight.