Chapter Five: Two Male Leads?

When Helen was chatting with the other two, she kept glancing at him. Louis’s lips twitched, but he pretended not to notice.

However, Louis discovered something odd. Originally, Rufield and Therys acted as if he didn’t exist at all. Now, though, they occasionally shot him a glance.

Puzzled, Louis glanced at the storybook and realized his presence seemed to have increased a little just now. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Ahem, Helen, lend me your magic notebook, would you?” Louis suddenly set down his book and reached out to Helen, speaking with a careless air. “I have no idea what today’s test is about, and I don’t know a single spell yet.”

Sure enough, after these words, Rufield and Therys exchanged glances, almost bursting out laughing.

So you admit you know nothing, yet you brazenly say you don’t know a single spell? Trying to get attention, are you?

Seeing this guy still putting on airs, Helen shot Louis an exasperated glare, dug out her magic notes, slapped away his outstretched hand, and said, “Well then, you’d better do well. We’re counting on you, you know.”

To be honest, though she spoke out of courtesy, Helen now genuinely felt a hint of expectation. She wondered if Louis had actually been preparing for this test for a long time.

“It’s just a few defensive spells against dark magic,” Louis replied, taking Helen’s book and flipping through it with an air of indifference, looking for all the world like a clueless bookworm.

Helen’s eyes had harbored a trace of hope, but after hearing this, she couldn’t help the twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Just a few defensive spells against dark magic? Did he even know what those were? Those were advanced spells! Not even Osicrys would dare say such a thing.

Across from them, Rufield and Therys shot one another a strange look, and then Therys doubled over, clutching his stomach in uncontrollable laughter.

This Louis “the Sixth” was really something! Six years without casting a single spell, and now, on the day of the wizarding assessment, not only did he plan to learn spells on the spot, but he boasted shamelessly. And Helen’s polite words—he actually took them seriously!

Rufield couldn’t help but smile as well. He set down his nail clippers, crossed his legs, and sized up the bookworm across from him. “Illiterate? Our Grand Scholar Louis the Sixth, are you really planning to learn and perform at the same time today?”

Louis the Sixth and Grand Scholar were both nicknames given to Louis, full of mockery.

In everyone’s eyes, Louis carried the arrogance of a bookworm. He liked to act the scholar, always pointing out others’ flaws in magic—Grand Scholar, indeed! Did he even know what that meant?

Yet in six years, he had never cast a single spell, giving rise to all manner of jokes, like a living caricature.

“Learn and perform? No, no.” Louis flipped through the book without lifting his head, responding in his usual tone, “It’s called an ‘impromptu address,’ an ‘impromptu address’.”

(In this world, there are no Chinese idioms; ‘impromptu address’ is similar to ‘sharpening one’s sword right before battle.’ The original idiom comes from a story about a king, signifying that those who are prepared can astonish the world even with last-minute improvisation.)

At this, Therys laughed even harder, and even the usually stern-faced Rufield couldn’t help but twitch at the mouth.

This foreign exchange student was truly a piece of work—always making a spectacle of himself, harassing the princess at every turn. A toad lusting after a swan. Today, they’d let him make a fool of himself and hope he’d leave the academy for good.

As Therys and Rufield laughed uncontrollably, Helen could only touch her forehead, at a loss for words, hastily attempting to steer the conversation elsewhere.

But no matter how Helen tried to change the subject, Rufield and Therys invariably brought the focus back to Louis. Gradually, Louis became part of their conversation. As long as he was present, Rufield and Therys—who otherwise didn’t get along—found common ground and shared jokes.

Watching his “Presence +0.1,” “Presence +0.2” notifications, Louis’s eyebrows danced with delight—as if a bookworm had found a passage especially amusing in his reading.

This only made Therys and Rufield laugh all the harder. Even Helen, seeing Louis’s silly expression, couldn’t help but cover her mouth and laugh quietly.

At that moment, Louis realized that, perhaps due to a certain degree of interaction, the storybook now contained descriptions of Rufield and Therys.

Reading the descriptions of these two, Louis suddenly recalled the two male leads mentioned at the start of the storybook—complete with the old cliché of the black and white prince, domineering and aloof.

It was Rufield and Therys!

Rufield was the son of the Grand Prince of the Kingdom of Byron, not only holding a ducal title but also possessing the right of succession to the kingdom, as did his father.

Therys was the son of the Grand Duke of a vassal state under the Kingdom of Tyrenda, his status no lower than Rufield’s.

Both were sent by their families to support Osicrys, representing their houses.

At the same time, their families were adamant about not marrying the princess off to an outsider. Their hope, naturally, was for the princess to marry into their own family—or, more bluntly, for her to choose one of the two as her husband.

Therefore, neither Therys nor Rufield regarded Osicrys as a true teacher.

And, according to the melodramatic logic of the story, one of them would indeed become Osicrys’s husband.

“These foreign names are impossible to remember—just from the sound, you can’t even distinguish the syllables in ‘Rufield’,” Louis mused, stroking his chin. He saw his own presence was now 3.67, while Therys’s was 309 and Rufield’s 393.

Ah, so they’re the male leads. Not fellow extras like me.

A bit disheartening.

Out of curiosity, Louis checked his favorability ratings in the minds of Helen and the other two.

To his surprise, Helen’s favorability was actually 79%! This puzzled Louis, since he thought he’d made a terrible impression on her at the start. It seemed Helen’s initial setting for him was, in fact, quite high.

This made Louis even more curious.

As for Therys and Rufield, their favorability toward him ranged from 20% to 30%.

Surely not? he wondered, watching the two closely. He noticed their glances at him had changed yet again.

At first, their looks suggested they saw him as a dispensable extra. Now, though, while they still looked at him as an extra, their gazes held more mockery, disdain, and even a hint of wariness.

It was like watching a clown.

Louis found this quite strange.

Could it be that, as an extra, he was meant to be the foil for the protagonists? But what was his background? What kind of identity did he have in the eyes of these two leads?

Louis’s curiosity only grew.

From the current situation, all three of Osicrys’s students had exceptional backgrounds and talents.

Helen went without saying; Therys and Rufield were the black and white princes, one of whom would marry Osicrys, while the other, after losing the competition, would marry Helen. So, in the story, Osicrys’s students were all special.

Then who was he?

[A being born of Osicrys’s imagination, gradually made real by the Book of Fate…]

What?