As always, Benedict is way too over-the-top.
We’ve been talking through the crystal almost three times a week. It's hardly been that long since we last spoke, so why does he come running over, sniffling, the moment he sees my face?
And don’t even get me started on his strength.
The way he hugged me just now... it was physically suffocating. I tried using all the strength I’ve built up to push him away, but his arms didn’t even budge.
Is he even human?
Maybe he’s just a different breed altogether?
...Well, if you look at it that way, I guess I’m not entirely human either.
<If you consider the people gossiping about you a moment ago, they'd probably agree you’re a different breed as well.>
Normally, I’d deny it, but after listening to the chatter while waiting for Benedict, I couldn’t shake my head.
They said things like, She’ll continue the glory of the Allen family, or, She’ll raise the kingdom’s reputation, or even, She might become a monster who surpasses Benedict Allen.
Hearing all that, I started to realize how people perceive me.
Looking back, I’ve done plenty of things that could be considered... extreme.
To me, it all just seemed necessary to deal with the rot in Soul Academy, but without that context, it’s no wonder others see it differently.
<It was gratifying to hear. To think that the child once despised by everyone now inspires awe in others.>
Gramps sounded so proud, as if it were his own accomplishment, but I, the one at the center of it, couldn’t feel at ease.
They say the gods blessed me with everything except character?!
I refuse to accept that!
You mean to tell me that that miserable, pathetic, perverted god gave me this character?
Every other skill I possess was earned through my own blood, sweat, and tears!
I managed to ignore most of the nonsense they were spouting, but when I heard that, I had to bite my tongue to keep from lashing out.
If Benedict hadn’t come barreling over from a distance, I probably would have grabbed someone by the collar.
“Lucy, Lucy, are you listening to your papa?”
...Oh, damn. I got caught zoning out while he was talking. I thought if I just nodded occasionally, he wouldn’t notice.
You think I don’t know it’s rude? I do! But what can I do? Listening to Benedict’s theatrics gives me goosebumps!
‘Yes, I’m listening.’
“Rest assured, dear. Your papa’s coarse voice is annoyingly clear, so it’s impossible to miss a single word.”
“Haha! Glad to hear it!”
Even after I expressed all my irritation, Benedict’s fussing didn’t let up.
He was so busy bragging about me that he hadn’t even touched his plate at Tierre la Mas, the most prestigious restaurant in Soul Academy.
It’s such a waste to let that delicious food go cold.
If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve just come with my airheaded friend instead.
At least then, I could’ve seen her happy smile.
“Lately, your papa has been struggling to resist going out to public places. Everywhere I go, I hear people singing my daughter’s praises!”
That’s just because they’re scared of you and don’t dare say anything else!
Lucy’s done enough that praise would hardly be the only thing they’re saying about her.
...Though to be honest, right now, it’s hard to criticize her when so much of her reputation includes my own actions.
“Even the bard from the Church of Art! The song he composed to extol your beauty is so exquisite. Every time a bard visits, I’m tempted to go outside and hear it, only to get scolded by the head butler.”
Ugh. A song by that pervert, good enough to be sung by bards across cities?
Usually, I’d write this off as one of Benedict’s exaggerations, but knowing that pervert Apostle’s skill with art, it’s probably true.
I don’t know what it’s about, and I don’t want to find out.
Knowing what kind of song is spreading would only lead to mortifying regret.
“And I’ve been obsessively checking the Dungeonology Journal lately. It’s full of praise for the dungeon you created, and I can’t help but smile proudly every time I read it!”
Oh, so he’s seen it.
Well, it makes sense. Checking the Dungeonology Journal is practically routine among the noblemen, so it’s no wonder he’d come across it.
As he went on about the endless accolades my dungeon has received, I found myself wondering if Benedict had actually managed to conquer it himself.
Considering his appearance—like he’s got muscles for brains—I couldn’t imagine him navigating the dungeon’s intricate gimmicks on his own.
“Why would you even ask, dear? Your papa would never pass up the chance to clear a dungeon made by his beloved daughter!”
Benedict answered with such confidence, but I found it hard to believe.
Someone with such absurd physical abilities would naturally struggle with gimmick-based dungeons.
With his powerful body, why would he bother thinking? Just smashing his way through would probably make the dungeon submit.
“My favorite part was the section that made you feel like you’d escaped from a dream. You’ve got a knack for reading people’s psychology.”
Listening to Benedict describe his experience, I actually started to believe he might have really cleared it.
His remarks were too insightful to come from just skimming a guide.
So he’s got superhuman physical abilities and a brain to boot—what kind of overpowered character is this? It’s practically game-breaking!
<As I mentioned, the same could be said about you.>
‘I’m not that smart!’
If I were, I wouldn’t be praying to the Dice God before every test!
<...Truly, there’s no need to be this knightly.>
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Not quite understanding his sarcasm, I was about to snap at Gramps when Benedict threw a curveball.
“Oh, by the way, Lucy. There’s something I’d like to ask of you.”
‘An... ask?’
“You mean a request, from my fool of a father?”
“Yes. I hear that if one heads to the academy, they can try out the dungeon you designed. Could your papa have a go at it?”
Even after the final exams had ended long ago, the Dungeon Studies exam venue was still bustling.
The difference now was that the crowd was no longer made up of students.
Instead, people who had come to experience my dungeon were filling the space.
As a result, the teaching assistants’ workload hadn’t lessened at all.
Actually, their workload might’ve even increased.
Now, instead of dealing with academy students, they were dealing with people who wielded power in every sense of the word.
In a medieval fantasy world, anyone who could immediately act on a whim was hardly ordinary.
If they mishandled anyone here, their heads could roll—both metaphorically and literally.
So, naturally, the faces of the teaching assistants looked quite worn.
Not long ago, they were crying tears of relief over the end of exams. Poor things.
But what else can you do?
This is the graduate school you chose!
If you’re going to be a slave, put your lifespan on the line!
“Count Allen! Long time no see!”
“Oh, Viscount Mold! It’s been a while. Are you here to conquer the dungeon my daughter designed?”
“Yes! Just reading about it in the journal got my heart racing—I couldn’t resist!”
“Ha ha! I’m glad to hear it. Oh? Count Lurby! I heard you’ve been resting in your territory since the end of the war.”
“Of course, and what better way to rest than by visiting here?”
While I was pitying the assistants, Benedict was cheerfully greeting the nobles at the exam venue.
Unlike the serious atmosphere at the Patran Festival, he looked as if he were meeting old friends, so these must be acquaintances of his.
This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.
The nobles who gathered around Benedict also began greeting me.
They said things like “She’s beautiful,” “She’s gifted,” or “We hear rumors of her talent,” smiling as they complimented me. But when I responded with thinly veiled barbs, their expressions faltered.
Of course, none of them dared to show anger in front of Benedict.
“Are you here to try the dungeon as well, Count Allen?”
“Yes. Since my daughter created it, I thought I’d give it a go myself.”
“Well, I’d imagine the count could certainly set a new record.”
“To break the Allen’s record with another Allen—how poetic.”
“Record?”
“Yes, look over there.”
One of the nobles pointed toward the dungeon’s speedrun record.
“Ever since the dungeon was opened to outsiders, many have attempted to beat Lady Allen’s record, but no one has managed to surpass it.”
As he mentioned, the nobles attempting the academy’s dungeon all sought to break my record.
They insisted that it made no sense for a young girl’s record to stand unchallenged.
But soon enough, they learned how high the record’s bar was set.
Despite numerous attempts, the record remained unbroken.
Even now, the second-best time is still a full minute behind mine. So, I won’t even bother describing how the initial record looked.
In the process, some people even questioned if the record was real, but they were quickly silenced by footage of me speedrunning the dungeon.
“It’s impossible to even think about matching it.”
“That’s a record only Lady Allen could set.”
“I keep trying, but each time, I’m just more and more impressed.”
The nobles surrounding Benedict voiced their admiration, but I couldn’t relate at all.
They’re all physically superior to me, so why can’t they replicate it?
I’m genuinely baffled.
I showed them the exact way to speedrun it, so why can’t they follow?
If they just mimic it, they should be able to finish much faster than I did.
<Young lady, the average person doesn’t consider dungeon variables down to tenths of a second.>
‘Well, that’s the problem! To set a record, you need that level of commitment!’
Speedrunning isn’t a joke!
If you’re not putting in that kind of effort, then don’t bother with the “amazing” compliments—I’m not impressed at all!
In fact, these self-proclaimed experts are just grating on my nerves! Holding back a flood of insults, I bit my lip, while Benedict chuckled.
“Hmm. Looks like I’ll have to step up my game to be a proud father.”
With that, Benedict entered the dungeon, and I escaped the nobles’ stares, running over to one of the assistants.
I had to get a crystal orb to watch Benedict’s dungeon run.
I was curious, after all. How would someone as overwhelmingly powerful as Benedict tackle my dungeon?
Snatching the crystal orb from the assistant, I blinked as I saw Benedict standing in the training room.
...Huh?
Why is he already in the first room?
He just went in, but somehow, he’s already past the hallway?
Blinking in surprise at his faster-than-expected progress, I watched as Benedict drew his arm back.
‘Time for a bit of a dirty trick!’
The moment he thrust his fist forward, all the soldiers and knights in the training room collapsed.
Naturally, the door to the next room opened.
‘Excuse me, Gramps.’
<Yes?>
‘After watching this, can you still say “you and your father”?’
How could he be the same species as me?! This is ridiculous!