Ryn was insufferably smug when he visited me in the hospital.
Yes, I ended up here, thanks to Mira Lightsong. During our match, as soon as I placed the smokes, the first attack I got hit was laced with poison.
My genius healing potions that goes with a Bang, "Explosive Healing" happened to only suppressed the poison, leaving me with a paralyzed arm and a bruised ego.
Truly, I was a shining example of brilliance backfiring—quite literally.
The hospital was state-of-the-art, boasting every magical convenience imaginable: instant-heal potions, limb-regrowth potions, and even anti-aging elixirs (which I suspect are just marketing scams for rich nobles).
However, none of these miracles were free. The price? Five precious points for a full recovery.
So there I was, lying on the bed, trying to think of a way to heal myself without spending my hard-earned points.
Spoiler alert: I failed.
Enter Ryn, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. "So, how's the arm, genius?"
"Oh, shut up," I groaned, glaring at him.
"I mean," he continued, leaning against the bedframe, "you've got to admit, losing to the a beauty, isn't that wonderful? I'm sure house beginning to understand me now."
I grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. "Get lost."
He dodged effortlessly, laughing. "Hey, I'm just saying. While you were busy fumbling, I was out there carrying my team to victory. And guess what? Ten points for today's win."
I froze. "Wait… does that mean you're at seventeen points now?"
"Yup." His grin grew even wider.
I groaned louder, realizing my situation was even worse than I thought.
Having ryn bested you is something worth to be shameful of....
Begrudgingly, I bought the five-point healing potion, drank it, and felt my arm tingle as life returned to it.
My point total dropped to a dismal two, and I vowed to never let Ryn outscore me again.
Later, the final insult came when I learned that everyone else in my group now had twenty-two points. Twenty-two!
I shot them all a glare, silently fuming. I got you into this school, you ungrateful bastards!
Of course, I didn't actually say it out loud. I may be petty, but I'm not suicidal.
---
By evening, we were all required to attend a grand banquet at the palace. Attendance was mandatory, so there was no escape.
Dressed in my finest white suit, I stood before the mirror and adjusted my glasses, admiring the reflection staring back at me.
"Who's that dashing white-haired, glasses-wearing genius?" I mused aloud. "Oh, right. Me."
"What a narcissist... You know mirrors don't talk right?"
Thad's voice startled me so badly that I nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun around, clutching my chest.
"For the love of all things magical, Thad! You need a bell or something! That stealth ability or talent of yours is dangerous!"
"It's not stealth; you're just too absorbed in yourself," he replied, deadpan.
I waved him off and gave him a once-over. "You're definitely getting into the Scout and Hunt class."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me to mutter about his terrifying ability to appear out of nowhere.
---
Arriving at the palace, the first thing I noticed was Ryn already in action, ready to hunt.. Not for enemies, of course, but for women.
His eyes scanned the room like a predator sizing up its prey.
And then, the unthinkable happened. Thad—stoic, emotionless Thad—made a joke.
"Don't you think Ryn fits well with the 'Scout and Hunt' class, get it? You know, hunting for women?"
I froze, too stunned to respond.
Thad glanced at me, sighed, and mumbled, "Forget it," before walking away.
I turned to Lena and Serra, my eyes wide. "Did you hear that? Thad just—just tried to make a joke!"
Lena looked mortified, likely because Thad was her brother. Serra, on the other hand, was too busy stifling laughter.
"Am I exaggerating?" I asked, more to myself than anyone else. "No, I'm not. This is monumental! Thad joking is rarer than spotting an actual dragon."
The room was buzzing with activity. Nobles and commoners mingled, though there was still an unspoken divide.
The banquet hall itself was a marvel: golden chandeliers, shimmering mana crystal pillars, and a ceiling enchanted to show a starry night sky. It was the kind of opulence that made you feel poor, no matter how rich you were.
Lena and Serra quickly drew my attention. Lena, in her elegant red gown, looked absolutely radiant. Her dress was fitted at the waist, flaring out into soft, flowing layers that moved like water with every step. Her ample chest proving to be quite the distraction as well.
Serra, in contrast, wore a simpler red frock that highlighted her cute, youthful charm. Her dress had lace detailing at the hem and sleeves, adding a touch of elegance.
I looked at her as I added in my mind:
My cute little chopping board who's a genius in magic.
"Matching colors, huh? A secret dress code or just coincidence?" I mused aloud.
Lena raised an eyebrow. "It's called coordination, Zendel. Maybe you should try it sometime."
"I'll have you know," I replied, adjusting my glasses for dramatic effect, "I am a vision in white. Sophistication personified."
"You look like a runaway bride," Serra quipped, earning a giggle from Lena.
I clutched my chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know that older women would line up to pinch these cheeks!"
Lena rolled her eyes. "Is that something to be proud of?"
"Absolutely," I declared. "You can't buy this level of adorableness. It's a natural talent."
I pushed the glass up a bit with my finger as I say that.
A girl approached us, or specifically me, her posture regal, her expression composed. Behind her stood the so-called hero—whose name, to this day, I still hadn't bothered to learn.
The girl inclined her head slightly in a graceful bow. "Hello, Venzel," she said, her voice soft yet firm. "I've heard quite a bit about you and wanted to meet you in person."
I gave her a once-over. She was elegant, confident, and exuded a certain presence that demanded attention.
But instead of being impressed, my mouth, as usual, chose violence.
"That's funny," I replied dryly, adjusting my glasses. "I've never heard anything about you."
The words hung in the air for a moment.
Oh yes, you heard that right—I was fully leaning into my villain persona, for reasons that even I couldn't quite explain.
Maybe it was sheer pettiness. Or boredom.
I expected outrage, indignation, or at the very least, some annoyance.
Instead, she laughed, a light, melodious sound that caught me off guard.
"You're quite the character, Venzel," she said, her lips curling into a smirk. "My name is Reine Lionheard."
'Shit. Royalty.'
My brain stalled, my thoughts crashing into one another like an alchemical experiment gone horribly wrong. This wasn't just any girl. This was Reine Lionheard—Lionheard, as in the royal family and Reine.....
Wasn't she the first princess?