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The old man could still recall the scene from a year ago.
At that time, he stood in the office of the bell tower, just as he did at the beginning of this semester, gazing at the energetic students entering through the main gate.
He felt a sense of anticipation, knowing that the heir of the Campbell family would enter the academy from there. He hoped to see a young man shining like that lion king once again in this academy.
However, when he saw the golden-haired boy, surrounded by a group of maids as he got out of the griffin cart, he felt genuine disappointment.
Because with just one glance, he could tell what kind of person that boy was.
Just like the noble young masters who were never lacking in this academy, arrogant, haughty, with an air of superiority, filled with the stench of money, and the pretentiousness unique to nobles.
Except for the emptiness in his head.
Later, the actions of that Young Master Campbell confirmed his judgment.
If it could be described in four words, it would be “stuck in the mud, unreformable.”
After trying to correct him to no avail, he had almost given up.
Little did he expect…
Professor Plon glanced at the current Mu’en and found that the one who misjudged was himself.
…
“Was my father really that impressive during his time at the academy?”
After hearing Professor Plon’s description of his father, Mu’en exclaimed in surprise.
He had thought that the rumors were true; that every generation of Campbells were thoroughly brutish.
“A strong brute is called courageous and resolute; a weak brute is called reckless. Coincidentally, every Duke Campbell has never lacked strength.”
Seemingly seeing through Mu’en’s thoughts, Professor Plon explained languidly.
“I see.” Mu’en scratched his head.
That makes sense.
How could a man who could hold the duke’s position, have the emperor marry his daughter to his son, and even lead the army on the border, just be a simple brute?
But…
Could such an outstanding man be blinded by excessive love, resulting in him raising his own son to be useless?
So, the word “parents”…
Mu’en couldn’t help but sigh.
“So, Professor Plon, your dislike for me isn’t because I only learned one lighting spell last semester?”
Mu’en then asked.
Crack.
As soon as Mu’en’s words fell, he saw Professor Plon’s figure suddenly stiffen.
“Of course not. How could I dislike you for such a trivial matter? After all, I was already prepared for your family’s lack of talent in magic.”
Professor Plon’s tone remained calm, showing no signs of emotion.
“Your impressive father has never passed a single magic subject; he has only learned the magic that makes flowers bloom just to pursue your mother.”
“Really? It seems my father is also a magic idiot, haha…”
“Yet he learned the lighting spell in just two weeks.”
Professor Plon turned back, his expression unchanged, his tone deep.
However, as he slightly moved his fingers from the hand that held the cane, one could see clear fingerprints on it.
“By the way, I taught my cat how to use this magic in just three days.”
“…”
And he says he doesn’t dislike me? It feels like he could hit me with his cane at any moment!
Mu’en thought that a big danger warning sign might pop up above his head, and he started pondering what kind of posture would be appropriate to beg for mercy if Professor Plon seriously intended to strike him in such a place.
“However… I admit, you have indeed changed, Mu’en Campbell.”
In the end, Professor Plon did nothing but heave a deep sigh and then turned, continuing deeper into the corridor.
“Since you can elevate your magic fundamentals score to this level in just a month, I believe you can easily break the curse of the Campbell family’s unskilled magic.”
“You might truly surpass your father and become the most outstanding Duke Campbell in history.”
“That’s a bit too much flattery.” Mu’en didn’t expect Professor Plon to praise him so suddenly and felt slightly shy.
“Is it? I could be certain before, but after witnessing your change, I also began to doubt my own aging eyes.
“However…”
Professor Plon suddenly shifted his tone:
“I didn’t expect you, Mu’en Campbell, to make such a decision.”
“Mm?”
A question mark popped up above Mu’en’s head, looking puzzled at Professor Plon’s back.
Then he realized, could Professor Plon be talking about… Teacher Meila?
“The path that Mentor Meladomir pursues, while I don’t know it in detail, I do know it is not a path of light.
At least for you, Mu’en Campbell, the heir to an infinite future as a duke, it is not a path worth choosing.”
Professor Plon continued:
“You should have better, smoother options. If you want to gain power, the Campbell family’s heritage is not weak; you only need to take steady steps forward. Even if you only scored three points in magic fundamentals, achieving breakthrough as a warrior and becoming a Crowned One is a definite thing.
Even if you dislike the brutish reputation of the Campbell family, as the son of a duke, your resources and starting point far exceed those of ordinary people. As long as you demonstrate the resilience and effort that pushed you to an excellent level in a month, your future achievements will certainly not be low.
Yet you seem to be unusually eager, eager to an extent that piques curiosity…”
Professor Plon turned back, his aging yet sharp eyes showing a hint of inquiry:
“As the heir of the Campbell family, the future absolute pillar of the empire, and even the companion of that Princess, Mu’en Campbell, what exactly are you afraid of?”
“I…”
Faced with Professor Plon’s inquiry, Mu’en opened his mouth in silence.
What is he afraid of?
Of course, it’s nothing but fate.
If he could, he wouldn’t want to struggle so hard. He would also like to walk step by step toward a bright future, marrying the person he loves under the church’s bells and scattered rose petals.
He wanted to be an unremarkable duke’s son, waiting for his father to grow old or prepare for retirement before he took his place, inheriting the Campbell family legacy and living out his life under the legendary surname of Campbell.
He wanted to live.
He wanted to be happy.
So simple.
But fate does not allow.
Fate does not allow him, the yellow-haired villain, to exist in the original narrative.
He should have died, should have died more than once.
And what he faced could not be resolved by the three words “Campbell.”
The foreboding dream hung like a blade over his neck, urging him to move forward quickly.
So, he could only take a detour.
Even if that path also leads to a future shrouded in mists.
He had to try, to try with all his might, — to defy fate.
“It seems you have made a resolution.”
Watching Mu’en, observing the molten blood and flames flowing in Mu’en’s eyes, Professor Plon withdrew his gaze.
“Since that’s the case, I won’t ask more. Even as a teacher, the final decision will ultimately be yours.”
Professor Plon raised his hand and pressed it on a precise instrument.
Then, with the roar of steel, a massive door that seemed to reach the heavens slowly opened before Mu’en.
Blinding light surged into the darkness where Mu’en stood, causing him to squint his eyes, making it difficult to see the road ahead.
“Go.”
Professor Plon said:
“Mentor Meladomir is waiting for you, Mu’en Campbell.”
