163. He's So Gentle… I Might Actually Cry
Just then, she picked up on some new information.
"Oh? Isn't that Leoz, my junior? I see you've finally caught up with the coursework these past few days. That's no easy feat."
"You are… ah, senior from the Patrol Team, right? Good morning. Don't even mention it—really, don't. Catching up on classes took me a lot of time. Our first-year courses are a real pain."
Leoz?
Diaran was slightly taken aback.
What was that guy doing here?
She quickened her pace, following the sound, and immediately headed in that direction.
"Hah, tell me about it. We all went through first year. Can't handle advanced calculus or linear algebra? No choice but to grind exercises. Political science? Endless essays and reports to strengthen our materialist beliefs. And foreign languages? Ugh, sickening. Translation magic is free, so why do we have to learn languages?"
The senior seemed on good terms with Leoz. Leoz's non-threatening demeanor, amicable nature, and good looks made him an easy favorite in social settings, even with just a few pleasantries.
After chatting for a while, the senior brought up something, out of goodwill: "By the way, I heard you're planning to duel Diaran? What's that about?"
"It's nothing serious. She wants me as her partner. We'll spar to get familiar with each other. If she's satisfied, I'll earn 20 credits."
Leoz didn't hide anything; such arrangements weren't uncommon at school.
"Tsk, tsk. Those credits might not be worth it," the senior said, shaking his head. "Do you know why that 'Golden Princess' Diaran has that nickname?"
"No idea. I've never paid attention," Leoz replied. Between work, studies, leveling his alt, and farming tokens, his schedule was packed. Gossip was the last thing on his mind.
"Heh, typical you. You never care about interpersonal relationships. Let me tell you, ignoring those will bite you someday. Sure, we're learning professional skills and theoretical knowledge now, but in society? Magic counts for squat. Everyone's technical level is similar. Networking, socializing over drinks, reading the room—that's what gets you ahead."
After boasting about his life experience, the senior finally got to the point:
"'Golden Princess' isn't a compliment. Our Crystal Civilization doesn't have 'princesses' in the traditional sense. When someone's called a princess, it usually refers to those working in… unregulated, uh, nightlife establishments. You catch my drift?"
"I get it," Leoz nodded.
"'Golden Princess' is based on rumors. You know there aren't many with both dragon and titan bloodlines who survive to adulthood. Most are snatched up young by magic families for genetic enhancement."
The senior teased:
"Yet Diaran not only remains free but also affords our pricey university tuition. Before enrolling, she didn't know any magic, and exams cost money. Tell me, how does a pretty girl like that make ends meet?"
"They say she's eccentric and reclusive. Someone dug around and found she lived three years in a sleazy, dirt-cheap hotel…"
"By the way, that hotel's notorious for shady transactions. That icy, high-class dragon-titan? Who knows how many have 'tasted' true dragon blood?"
"… Seems like just a rumor," Leoz said, his lips twitching.
"Anyway, don't get too close to her. Even professors have shunned her. Watch out, or you might struggle to find a workshop. Without one, you can't graduate."
The senior said earnestly:
"Teaming up with someone riddled with scandals can tarnish your reputation. Sure, you're good-looking and won't have trouble finding a partner, but it'll still affect how the school's elites perceive you. Even professors might look down on you. Think carefully, Leoz."
"Hmm… fine. Thanks for the heads-up," Leoz shrugged. "Anyway, the decision's hers. If she's not impressed, I won't even earn the 20 credits."
"Heh, as long as you understand. Not everyone's worth associating with," the senior patted Leoz's shoulder. "I'm off to class. Let's grab drinks sometime. Oh, and about the duel—just throw the match. If you lose on purpose, Diaran might back off."
"Sure, sure."
Leoz brushed it off and continued toward the library. Today, Lucite planned to showcase his alchemical skills. Leoz had to show up with Hobbs to support his buddy.
He hadn't gone far before stopping at an intersection. His gaze fell on Diaran Alexandra Jerkin.
Standing with one hand on her hip, slightly lowered head, and a statuesque side profile, she looked like a goddess carved in stone.
"Oh, good morning," Leoz greeted instinctively. "I've booked Arena 12 for our duel this afternoon—"
"I shouldn't have held any expectations for you."
Diaran spoke abruptly.
"… Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Leoz scratched his head in confusion before realizing: "Oh, you overheard my conversation with the senior? Don't take it seriously—it's just teasing."
"I apologize."
Diaran turned to face him directly, her usual coldness in her tone:
"I'm sorry for causing reputational trouble. You can cut ties with me here and now."
Leoz blinked.
While his literal brain wasn't real, he suddenly felt that Diaran's mental circuits might also be faulty.
He wasn't the same clueless guy with 6 Intelligence points anymore. He saw through this situation at a glance.
"What does that even mean? Backing out now is like admitting: 'Yes, I, Diaran, am the so-called 'princess.' Doesn't that just validate the rumors?"
Leoz was puzzled.
"Besides… isn't it possible your reputation would suffer more than mine?"
Reputation?
Diaran shook her head.
The [Doctor] had told her: as long as she had a mission, nothing else mattered.
"My reputation is insignificant."
Diaran looked at Leoz and said:
"You're pragmatic, Leoz. I'll find another partner or join a different professor's workshop."
"Insignificant?"
Leoz raised an eyebrow.
"Am I meaningful… to you?"
That phrasing, tone—it was impossible not to think of Yavanna Huskisin.
"What kind of attitude is that?"
One Yavanna at home, constantly too self-conscious to meet him, was enough. Now at school, this too? What a hassle.
"I just don't want you jeopardizing your future because of me—"
"Oh? You looking down on me, Leoz, or what?"
Leoz's temper flared instantly.
Just days ago, he liberated Omega Energy, revived Nomi, and returned Natural Ignition—a suave and confident hero. Though he didn't brag, he secretly felt pretty awesome.
Diaran's words sounded downright passive-aggressive to him.
Now someone was basically saying: "You're not good enough. You'll ruin your future because of me, wah-wah-wah. Don't blame me for your failures."
"Why wait for the afternoon?" Leoz cracked his knuckles, smirking. "Let's fight right now."
With people like this, Leoz's go-to solution was a good brawl.
Overthinking, huh? Two punches will knock some sense into you. Let's see if you keep overthinking after that!
Forget all this moping. Steel-hearted Leoz's philosophy was simple: a solid punch solves most problems.
He might hesitate to hit Yavanna, but a tough-skinned dragon-titan? No such qualms.
"If that's what you want."
Diaran's gaze grew complicated.
Her direct advice had backfired.
Leoz wasn't retreating but actively trying to help her.
Despite warnings and her own dissuasion, Leoz willingly shouldered potential criticism, persisting in aiding her.
More importantly, he wasn't planning to hold back but intended to give it his all.
For an opponent, giving their utmost was the ultimate form of respect.
Leoz.
"… Thank you."
He truly was a special person.