I Became The Academy’s Narrow-Eyes

A woman was standing apart from the crowd, leaning against a tree and taking in both the Swordsmanship and the Magic Department factions at a glance.

Her short hair, cut seemingly haphazardly but neat nonetheless, resembled the mane of a wolf.

The dark blue hue, bright with a touch of azure, seemed to reflect her coldly cynical nature.

Kasha Hanahan.

It was the moment Ceylon had chosen her.

“Hanahan…”

“That person is…”

“Kasha Hanahan…”

An awkward air circulated within the Magic Department’s ranks.

The Hanahan family.

To the mages, those three syllables carried an extraordinary meaning and weight.

One of the Eight Great Families, owner of the Blue Mana Tower.

Origin of the Ice Magic tradition.

A prestigious magic family, noted for its significant achievements in countless spells, including Ice Magic.

Kasha was the high-born lady of that Hanahan family.

And now, here she was facing off against the Magic Department, standing with the opposing faction as a swordsman.

Faces of the Magic Department’s students twisted with complex expressions.

They seemed to struggle with how to comprehend the situation.

A deplorable turncoat.

Had Kasha been just a member of any magic family, they would have undoubtedly denounced her as such.

But she was a Hanahan.

Moreover, she had achieved significance in swordsmanship.

A dominance comparable to that of Drin Lebringer herself.

All her accomplishments were earned without the support of her family.

Kasha Hanahan was an anomaly.

Not a lowly or vile mutation, but a noble and superior one.

Her skills as a swordsman couldn’t be taken lightly.

As a mage, she couldn’t be disparaged with ease.

If anyone dared to discuss her existence, it would only be someone from another family of equal stature as the Hanahans.

And then-

“Kasha Hanahan…”

Like the Hanahans, another pillar of the continental magic foundation, among the prestigious magical houses upholding continental magic.

One of the Eight Great Families, the owner of the Green Mana Tower.

Root of Wind Magic.

Phibian Leolalian, upon spotting Kasha, looked at her with an expression mixed with complexity and fascination.

Originally, Kasha would have been repulsed by such attention.

Those indifferent eyes, neither affirming nor denying.

But now, Kasha found herself untroubled by such stares.

There was only one gaze that mattered to her at the moment.

The gaze of the man who had chosen her.

“Me…?”

In the second phase of the Swordsmanship Department’s entrance examination, Kasha had recorded an exceptional performance, sharing the position of second place with Drin Lebringer.

She was one of the key strengths of the Swordsmanship Department.

So when Ceylon named her, Kasha was perplexed and retorted.

It was as if she hadn’t even imagined she would be picked.

The reason for her thoughts was made apparent by those around her.

“Madman…!”

“To choose Kasha here!?”

“What was he thinking…?”

The Swordsmanship Department’s students were aghast.

“Really, choosing Hanahan in this situation…?”

“As expected from these ignorant swordsmen, lacking depth of thought?”

“What’s with him to dare to call on Hanahan?”

“What a predicament… how uncomfortable…”

The Magic Department’s students were equally disconcerted.

Thus, Kasha Hanahan was always deemed a difficult figure to approach, especially in situations that intertwined swordsmanship and magic as they did now.

Had he any understanding of the complexities associated with the character known as Kasha, he wouldn’t have made such a call, regardless of her being a main force.

That’s why Kasha was curious.

What was he thinking when he chose her in this situation?

“Why me specifically?”

There was confusion on her face coupled with a greater measure of anticipation.

“Why did I choose Miss Kasha?”

Ceylon scratched his head with his characteristic clueless expression as he spoke.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking?”

“What?”

“The first match. It’s pivotal for seizing the initiative. Who else but Miss Kasha could be more suitable for such a critical match?”

“…But Drin Lebringer would have been a choice for that reason.”

Kasha said this indifferently, yet cynically, but her demeanor was unlike her, almost timid.

‘Ah, right! There is Drin!’

She feared that he might say exactly that. Why then did she bother to demand an answer from him?

It was greed.

Kasha wanted him not just to have thought of her first, but for him to have deliberated between Drin and herself and then chosen her.

“It’s just…doesn’t this seem like something Miss Kasha would do better?”

“…Really?”

Kasha pursed her lips.

Her eyebrows twitched.

Relaxing might lead her to make a strange expression she had never made in her life.

“What makes you think so…?”

She inquired dismissively, feigning indifference while burying her hopes.

“I don’t know if I should say this, but-”

Ceylon said, beaming with a naively clueless smile.

“While Drin might seem like someone who’d gauge the opponent’s level and potentially go easy, Miss Kasha strikes me as someone who wouldn’t bother with trifles and would thoroughly, uh…devastate the enemy?”

The Magic Department’s freshmen, who had inadvertently started listening, widened their eyes in shock.

“That fool-…!”

“Does this ignorant representative really lack any thought!?”

The Swordsmanship Department students were similarly perturbed, stealing glances at Kasha.

“Hey, top ranker, is that right…?”

“Maybe you should think about it again…?”

They couldn’t believe he was pitting them, the mages, against Kasha Hanahan, for such an absurd reason!

Ceylon’s decision seemed to completely disregard her position as a great lady of the Hanahan family who had been born with a talent for swordsmanship, not magic.

“…”

And so, Ceylon’s response made a significant impression on Kasha.

It was about Kasha’s position.

The reason she never fully belonged anywhere.

The reason why no one had ever acknowledged or denied her.

Kasha had always wondered.

Why do people only see me as the anomaly of the Hanahan family?

Can no one treat me as just Kasha?

What if I weren’t the anomaly of the Hanahans?

If I were just Kasha, a swordsman?

How would people have treated me then?

The answer was right there.

Ceylon.

He was looking at Kasha as she truly was.

His assessment was that she appeared more ruthless and cold, but so what?

A man of his caliber acknowledged her.

A man of his caliber saw her for who she truly was.

“…”

Kasha lowered her head.

She couldn’t be sure of what her face was revealing at that moment.

“So, Miss Kasha-”

Nor how to respond to him.

“…”

“Ah, Miss Kasha!?”

In the end, she couldn’t bear it.

With her head still bowed, Kasha darted away from her spot so desperately that her movements were even imbued with mana.

The chill mana typical of the Hanahan lineage scattered coldness around her.

Like a lone wolf, she broke away from the pack with incredible speed.

It took less than 10 seconds for her to completely vanish from the scene.

“…”

Everyone at the scene gazed in the direction where Kasha had disappeared, looking absolutely dumbfounded.

Then their eyes turned to Ceylon.

You’re screwed.

The expressions they had when looking at Ceylon seemed to convey that message, as if interpreting Kasha’s actions.

“Huh?”

Ceylon had a stunned look on his face as he gazed in the direction where Kasha had vanished.

“Miss Kasha?”

Ceylon mumbled under his breath with a look of discomfort, unsure of how to interpret her behavior.

“I didn’t expect this…”

Tsk, tsk.

Phibian looked at Ceylon with a face full of contempt, shaking her head side to side before breaking into a very satisfied smile.

“Oh dear. What do we do now? Miss Kasha has declined, hasn’t she?”

The sudden exit of Kasha Hanahan, the co-second rank of both the Swordsmanship Department and a formidable powerhouse in her own right—this was nothing but great news for Phibian and the Magic Department faction.

“Ha, it’s too early for you, Miss Phibian, to be pleased. We still have her, don’t we?”

Drin?

Ceylon called out her name, looking at the Swordsmanship Department’s faction.

“?”

The Swordsmanship Department students collectively turned their gaze to the right.

Drin wasn’t there.

“?”

Then, in unison, they looked to the left.

Drin wasn’t there either.

“Where is Miss Drin?”

Where could she be?

Ceylon looked puzzled, and one of the students spoke up.

“She hasn’t been around for a while?”

“As soon as the entrance ceremony ended, she seemed to hurry off somewhere.”

“What? Miss Drin isn’t here right now?”

As such dialogue passed within the Swordsmanship Department’s ranks, once more all eyes simultaneously shifted back to Ceylon.

It looks like we’re screwed.

Their expressions seemed to say just that.

Ceylon nodded.

It seems we’re really in trouble.

Again, that was the message his face conveyed.

“Magnus!”

It was then that Phibian called out a name.

A man with a ruffian-like appearance, fiery red hair, and dusky skin stepped forward.

It was none other than Magnus Flare, the second rank of the Magic Department’s entrance exam.

He flashed a belligerent smile toward the Swordsmanship Department’s faction.

“Kekeke, what are you doing? Is your lot a drama club, not the Swordsmanship Department? Are you trying to make us laugh with some kind of farce? Huh? Should I help make it even more laughable by setting your butts on fire?”

With the absence of the co-second ranks Drin and Kasha, the situation was clearly in favor of the Magic Department.

Bemused laughter escaped from the Magic Department’s ranks.

Ugh.

The Swordsmanship Department freshmen grimaced with faces filled with mortification.

It was then that Ceylon spoke to Agion.

“Agion, shall we consider what just happened with you as null and void?”

“Um… what happens then?”

“I had always intended for you, Agion, to be the vanguard, and now, for the first time, I am calling upon you.”

“Ugh, it’s a bit hurtful to my pride, but—”

Agion showed a refreshing smile.

“If it’s Ceylon’s command, I’ll gladly comply.”

Agion Morci leaped up with a short shout of effort.

He landed in a dashing pose opposite Magnus, exclaiming, “The saga of Bendalius, the spirit of a hero!”

“Eh?”

“My favorite play. What plays do you like, Magnus?”

“Huh? Plays? Why would I watch such silly things?”

“Ha! Since you talked about plays, I thought you liked them. Anyway, you referred to us as a drama club, didn’t you?”

Morci’s signature Wind Spear Martial Arts took shape.

The wind began to stir.

Morci spun his spear dazzlingly, creating a windmill shape with it.

He then settled into a ready stance, his final destination.

Positioned, Agion declared, “Let’s proudly display the play! The plot—how Ceylon, the great hero, and his comrades defeat a devious villain.”

With that declaration, Agion winked at the women.

A fevered scream erupted.

Without a doubt, it was like the scene of a star actor’s appearance.

Magnus scoffed with contempt.

“Hey, pillar boy. Sorry to interrupt your show, but I’ve heard…”

Magnus gestured with his chin towards Ceylon, holding a jeer in his voice.

“You. Weren’t you embarrassingly beaten by that clueless guy there after the third test in front of all the participants?”

Kekeke.

Magnus, his dusky skin making his teeth appear even whiter, laughed viciously.

“Isn’t that fantastic? If it were me, I would have been too ashamed to show my face. What do they say? This year’s Swordsmanship Department freshmen are the best ever? True, they’re the best of the worst.”

Whoosh!

Fire blazed atop the palm that Magnus lifted.

“This Representative Battle will make it clear. Just how lamentably low the level of this year’s Swordsmanship Department freshmen really is. I’m looking forward to your performance, you pathetic pillar who lost to that dimwit.”

That was the moment.

The flame that rose on Magnus’s palm burned even more fiercely.

It was because of the wind that had started to blow.

“…!”

The owner of the wind, Agion Morci.

Riding the breeze, he was already within striking distance of Magnus.

And the tip of the spear he held was now halted just before Magnus’s throat.

Not even the Swordsmanship Department students, with their developed eyesight, could follow the movements of the Spear of Wind.

“Let’s clarify once and for all. The fact that Agion Morci ended up in the third rank, and suffered a brutal defeat against another freshman, is no proof…”

Before Magnus could utter another word, Agion cut him off with a shout.

“…of the Swordsmanship Department freshmen being the lowest ever!”

The duel had yet to begin.

Before Phibian could pull Agion away from Magnus, he sprang back, drawing a windmill shape with his spear and then settling into a stance, shouting with mana-filled conviction.

The wind that carried the self-assurance in Agion’s voice swept the place.

“Observe closely, you Magic Department freshmen! You will see how our Swordsmanship Department representative secures an overwhelming victory against a certain man!”

Waaaaaaah!!!

The Swordsmanship Department freshmen, who had been scowling, erupted into cheers.

Ceylon!

Ceylon!

Ceylon!

His name was chanted.

The momentum that had been tipping towards the Magic Department completely swung back.

Then, Agion winked at Ceylon.

Clap, clap, clap.

Entranced, Ceylon clapped his hands.

“10 points… that’s a 10!”