“Why are you kneeling? Stand up.”
Roel Ascart supported Paul’s kneecaps with his staff as he spoke with a nonchalant yet authoritative voice. While Paul was still in a daze, the heavy pressure weighing down on him abruptly vanished, and he immediately raised his head in astonishment.
“Roel…” muttered Paul in bewilderment.
The vibes he was receiving from Roel were very different from usual. The Roel he had known was a gentle and graceful noble who was fond of books, but the one that was standing before him was imposing and powerful.
His golden eyes gleamed brightly under the glow of his mana, and his black hair and overcoat fluttered along with the wind. The composed but stern expression of his face showed that he was someone who had braved through true storms, unlike his peers.
Roel’s powerful entrance silenced the crowd. Cron and Lyte traded horrified glances as they assessed the unfamiliar face before them. Meanwhile, Roel himself sighed deeply in his heart.
I didn’t think that the plotline would change here too.
InEyes of the Chronicler, Paul Ackermann pretended to go along with the demand of the two Austine nobles, agreeing to drop out of the academy. However, right after he gave his word, he dashed right into the assembly hall shouting for help.
Such behavior was apt for Paul’s current strength. After all, what else could an Origin Level 5 do against two Origin Level 4s except to run away? His actions would attract Nora’s attention, who then stood in and protected him. This was also how the two of them first became acquainted with one another.
If things had gone according to the plotline, the ideal position for Roel to take would have been just slightly ahead of Paul. The moment Paul called for help, he could step in right away and support him. That would have allowed for a logical flow of events without him standing out too much.
Yet, for some reason, Paul lost his temper and confronted the two lackeys directly, blowing the matter up. With this, there was no way Nora would have remained oblivious to the happenings here.
Forget it, it doesn’t really matter anyway. It’s just an additional layer of security.
Roel sighed once more before turning his gaze toward Cron and Lyte, who were staring at him warily. Cron hesitated for a brief moment before questioning Roel’s identity carefully.
“You must be a freshman, right? May I know who you are?”
“Saint Mesit Theocracy, Roel Ascart.”
“The Theocracy? Why are you butting into our affairs then?”
Upon hearing Roel’s background, their hearts immediately calmed down. No matter how powerful the Sain
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