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    Mesugaki Tank Enters the Academy –
    208

    Mesugaki Tank Enters the Academy –
    208

    Benedict never liked Lucy
    being surrounded by gossip.

    Everyone who knew him agreed
    that Benedict was a doting father. How could he possibly enjoy
    hearing slander against Lucy?

    One of the main reasons
    Benedict didn’t want Lucy to attend the party was precisely this
    issue.

    Lucy dismissed Benedict’s
    concerns as those of an overly cautious father, but Benedict couldn’t
    shake off his discomfort.

    And today was no different. He
    had struggled immensely to contain his anger at the countless
    derogatory remarks from the moment they arrived.

    Nevertheless, Benedict endured
    all the insults for the sake of his daughter.

    He knew that stepping in to
    defend against the karma Lucy’s actions had brought upon herself
    would only worsen the hostility.

    With Lucy accepting all the
    criticisms with a smile, he believed it wouldn’t be right for him to
    undermine her resolve by intervening.

    However, this situation was
    different. This had nothing to do with Lucy.

    Though Tavol pointed at Lucy,
    the person he really wanted to insult was Benedict Allen.

    The grudge from the distant
    past, formed during Benedict’s reckless youth, was now being aimed at
    his daughter.

    Why should he tolerate this?
    Benedict clenched his fist while looking at Tavol’s face.

    He intended to break a few of
    that guy’s teeth, making it impossible for him to speak properly for
    some time.

    But his thoughts were never
    executed.

    Just as he was about to move
    his feet, a voice echoed in his mind.

    Telepathy.

    A form of magic used by
    skilled mages to convey thoughts through magical energy instead of
    voice.

    Following the thread of magic
    directed at him, Benedict turned his head and saw Duke Partan
    standing on the podium.

    ‘Why?’

    There was no need to speak
    aloud if it was him.

    It was the right guess. As
    soon as Benedict thought of the question, an immediate response came
    back.

    ‘These are unfounded
    suspicions. If I can make that guy admit it with his own mouth…’

    Feeling his fiery temperament
    from the past rekindle, Benedict suddenly found it strange that Duke
    Partan was just passively watching the situation.

    Lucy is this festival’s
    winner. She was someone Duke Partan personally called to
    congratulate.

    Yet, she’s being buried under
    a mountain of criticism while Duke Partan remains passive.

    A single word from him could
    end all this chaos.

    ‘Did you create this
    situation intentionally?’

    Come to think of it, Tavol’s
    presence here was peculiar in itself.

    It had been decided a long
    time ago that Benedict would attend the party following Lady Partan’s
    invitation to Lucy.

    But did he invite Tavol, who
    would certainly cause trouble, the moment he saw Benedict? Tavol, who
    is neither part of the First Prince’s faction nor particularly close
    to Duke Partan?

    ‘Duke…’

    The fury of the Beast that
    once shook the Continent now redirected its course.

    This was an extremely
    burdensome development for Duke Partan as well. The duke’s urgent
    excuses were transmitted into Benedict’s mind.

    ‘Are you asking me to trust
    you?’

    ‘That won’t be necessary.’

    At this very moment, Benedict
    could gain much by cooperating with the duke.

    He was well aware of that
    fact.

    However, no matter what he
    might gain, it would pale in comparison to what Lucy was enduring
    right now.

    Benedict had no intention of
    stopping.

    ‘Smiling? Lucy?’

    Benedict quickly turned his
    head to look at his daughter, who was standing at the centre of all
    the criticism.

    Despite the crushing weight of
    such heavy accusations, Lucy was standing tall with a smile, just as
    the duke had said.

    It wasn’t a forced or
    pretended smile. It was genuine, as if she was truly enjoying the
    situation.

    At the very moment Benedict
    was taken aback by this sight.

    A divine light began to shine
    from the ceiling of the party hall.

    The light wasn’t
    extravagant, but it was so warm and captivating that one couldn’t
    look away.

    As those who were hurling
    accusations became enchanted by the divine light falling like snow,
    they began to fall silent one by one, enveloping the party hall in
    stillness.

    As the overheated atmosphere
    cooled down, a voice suddenly echoed from the centre of the party
    hall.

    She didn’t use magic to
    amplify her voice. Nor did she use any other tools.

    Her voice was entirely her
    own, yet it reached the ears of every person in the hall.

    “Ladies and gentlemen.”

    Gentle and soft, but
    unmistakable.

    A voice refined through
    countless public appearances.

    “Please calm down. Nothing
    has been proven as fact yet.”

    No one in the party hall, not
    a single person, could refute that voice.

    Who could argue against the
    voice of the Saint of the Church of Armadi, who wore such a sorrowful
    expression?

    At the Academy, Phoebe was
    just another student, but outside, it was a different story.

    Having travelled to countless
    regions and performed acts of goodwill repeatedly, her words carried
    inherent authority as the current face of the Church of Armadi.

    “Lady Allen?”

    “Yes, what is it, you sloppy
    saint?”

    Many people were shocked to
    hear Lucy call Phoebe a ‘sloppy saint,’ but Phoebe herself only let
    out a light chuckle.

    “Please, step forward.”

    After confirming that Lucy was
    moving through the crowd, Phoebe turned her head.

    Though her face still held a
    smile, uncannily, that smile seemed cold.

    “And Knight Commander of
    the kingdom?”

    For the first time, Tavol
    showed respect at the Saint’s call.

    “Yes, esteemed Saint of the
    Church of Armadi.”

    “Could you please speak
    clearly about the suspicions?”

    “The Partan Festival is…”

    “Please, just speak about
    the suspicions.”

    Despite her gentle yet firm
    voice, Tavol cleared his throat, apologised, and continued speaking.

    “Firstly, there’s the
    possibility of using an artefact.”

    The stalls at the Partan
    Festival strive to disqualify as many people as possible.

    Even those renowned in their
    fields find it challenging to succeed in areas outside their
    expertise.

    But Lucy was different.

    She repeatedly won, even in
    fields she wasn’t supposed to be proficient in.

    “Some fields may indeed be a
    matter of luck. Fields requiring outstanding physical abilities?
    Let’s say she overcame them by using buffs that are secretly used
    to enhance physical abilities.

    However, her winning in
    several technical fields, despite only being a first-year at the
    Academy? Isn’t that strange?”

    It’s not impossible to win
    through superior physical abilities at a street stall.

    However, the gap between
    impossible and possible is enormous.

    Even those who are actively
    working in the field often fail. How could a first-year student at
    the Academy dream of succeeding?

    “What’s your evidence?”

    As Tavol raised his voice to
    present his argument, a voice cut through from behind.

    Tavol narrowed his eyes,
    wondering who dared to interrupt, but when he saw the face, he could
    only manage an awkward smile.

    Arthur Soladin.

    Though he is quite distant
    from the line of succession, he belongs to the royal family.

    One of the few people here
    whom Tavol must show respect.

    “Yes?”

    “The evidence that she used
    an artefact. Did you see her use it? Or did you confirm the artefact
    she’s using?”

    “…”

    “Are you simply raising your
    voice because you think a first-year at the Academy couldn’t
    possibly achieve this?”

    Arthur looked at Tavol as if
    he were pathetic, glanced at Duke Partan, and stood up.

    “I can’t compare to my older
    brother, but I was once called a genius. I’ll tell you this, the Lucy
    Allen I saw at the Academy is a monster. She was the one who showed
    me the wall of talent.”

    “But.”

    “Even Frey Kent, who is
    considered the pride of the kingdom’s future, has never defeated
    Lucy Allen.”

    People began to look around at
    Arthur’s words.

    They were searching for Frey
    Kent, who was supposed to be here.

    Amidst the rapidly unfolding
    situation, Frey, who was leisurely enjoying her meal, noticed the
    attention directed at her, swallowed her food, and nodded.

    “That’s right. Lucy is
    strong.”

    Sighs of admiration could be
    heard here and there at her indifferent voice.

    Who is Frey Kent?

    Isn’t she a monster who has
    always won every competition with overwhelming skill.

    If she were to continue
    growing, she is considered capable of earning the title of Sword
    Saint. Yet, she has never won a single victory against Lucy Allen!

    What was once just a rumour
    now becomes a fact with Frey’s acknowledgment. The divine talent of
    Lucy Allen is proven in a public setting.

    People’s perspectives begin to
    change. From; Is that possible? to Oh, it might be possible.

    They start to think; The
    talent of the Allen Family’s bloodline, which has been hidden for so
    long, has finally blossomed.

    “And does she lack
    anything other than physical abilities? Not at all. If that were the
    case, she wouldn’t always rank first at the Academy.”

    “…Third Prince, what
    are you trying to say?”

    “To put it plainly, I
    find it offensive that you’re dismissing the talent of a
    once-in-a-lifetime genius. At this rate, not just me but everyone
    here would appear incompetent for constantly being overshadowed by
    Lucy Allen.”

    Tavol chewed his words, taken
    aback by Arthur’s strong stance.

    It wasn’t just because Arthur
    came on strong. It was also because Tavol understood the deeper
    meaning behind his words.

    If Lucy Allen’s talent is
    false, then what does it make those who were defeated by such false
    talent? Specifically, what does that make the First Prince?

    Can you handle degrading her
    without any evidence?

    “However, there is still
    an unclear part. We might say her talent is exceptional in other
    areas, but magic. When it comes to magic, it’s never…”

    “I think I can speak to
    that.”

    A voice piped in from yet
    another direction. It was Joy Partan.

    As the Lady of the Partan
    Family, known for her excellent magical abilities, she seemed to have
    run here in a hurry, for she was catching her breath.

    “Lady Allen also
    possesses deep knowledge in the field of magic.”

    “…What?”

    Joy then spoke about an
    incident at the Academy.

    Lady Allen had given her
    advice related to magic, and after that, her own skills had improved
    dramatically.

    “Such advice couldn’t
    have come from someone without profound expertise.”

    “Really?”

    “Are you saying you don’t
    believe me?”

    Her face was partially
    concealed by a fan, showing only her eyes — cold, sharp, and
    piercing.

    Who could possibly deny the
    words of a Partan within the domain of the Partans?

    Tavol closed his mouth again,
    paused for a moment, and then spoke.

    “Understood. Perhaps Lady
    Allen’s talent exceeds my insignificant understanding. However, there
    are still suspicions. At the end of the festival… It’s about the
    dungeon strategy when Lady Allen faced the First Prince in a duel.”

    Tavol spoke. He claimed that
    the answer Lucy came up with wasn’t possible unless she already had
    knowledge of the dungeon.

    As he raised his doubts, those
    who had witnessed the duel between the First Prince and Lucy nodded
    in agreement.

    Emboldened by their response,
    Tavol’s voice grew louder.

    “Lady Allen, let me ask
    you. Did you know about the dungeon before visiting the street
    stall?”

    “Of course I did, you
    worthless knight.”

    “…What?”

    “Unlike you, who has
    nothing but pride despite your incompetence, I’m a genius.”

    In the silence that settled
    over the party hall, a laugh filled with mockery echoed.

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