The Faculty Meeting.
Formally, a higher decision-making body existed, but in reality, it was the place where various issues related to the Academy and Sky Island were decided.
Normally, professors would sit around a large table arguing amongst themselves, but something was different this time.
The most noticeable difference was the soldiers lined up against the walls. Though they were fully armed and standing normally, the professors were sweating profusely.
Why were the professors not conducting the meeting as usual and instead looking around nervously?
Surely it couldn’t be because of the soldiers.
These soldiers had been summoned by Lord Craft, who had crossed his arms and mumbled to himself, contemplating.
“The Faculty Meeting is a very dangerous time with important figures gathered in one place, yet lacking proper escort? If a terror attack occurs, it would be a calamity!”
This was the result of the professors being given the consideration of being escorted even during the meeting.
With the plan to assassinate the Duke’s daughter and indiscriminate terror plots having been discovered, the professors knew they could not be safe, and they all thanked Lord Craft for his divine grace.
Of course, some professors who were ungrateful did exist.
One exemplary Professor Horace pointed an accusatory finger with a fierce expression—though insulting Lord Craft, who was making a fool of himself, was too frightening for him. Some had even called for nonexistent guards, but those ungrateful individuals had been dragged out by soldiers and were not present in this room.
The professors present bore no complaints about being guarded by soldiers during the Faculty Meeting. Although they were intensely curious about what had happened to the dragged-out professor, that was but a fleeting thought. They were all equipped with minds keen enough to know such things without being told.
Hence, the reason the professors were drenched in cold sweat lay elsewhere. The most rational reason was the student in the seat of honor, perhaps?
In a Faculty Meeting comprised entirely of professors, a student’s presence signified that the true master of the school had become the student. Order was being restored, and the school was normalized. This unprecedented event left the faculty with no choice but to feel tense.
The only one who could escape this tension would be those exemplary professors who cared for the students more than anyone else and could stand proud, like Professor Horace.
Sitting to the right of Lord Craft, Professor Horace smiled broadly. His expression seemed somewhat frivolous, as if he couldn’t contain his laughter.
Was the normalization of the situation where the student became the master of the school so delightful? The professors here would have to follow this exemplary attitude moving forward.
However, astonishingly, there still existed an entity in this place that insulted even such a Horace.
“Indeed, this brat is the culprit. I recognized it since our first meeting when the smuggling was caught. Young Craft, this one must be dealt with immediately. Look at how he sits proudly in your place of honor amidst all this chaos. What a wicked one.”
Fortunately, the devil’s malicious whispers went unheard by anyone.
Even by Pastel, whose head had likely been lost in the dopamine of power.
Dopamine, dopamine~.
Dopamine-infused Pastel giggled while leading the meeting.
“Why don’t we withdraw our previous position and closely coordinate with the Knight Corps to thwart the assassination plan for Alesia Bellevue and ensure student safety? We can assign the Knight Corps to safeguard Bellevue and increase the Academy’s escort forces.”
This assertive suggestion came from the strong voice of the Student Council representing the students. When put to vote, it passed unanimously.
The faculty worked harder for the students than ever before. It was not solely because of the fully armed soldiers.
Pastel felt good all day, twisting her body and rubbing the corners of her mouth.
Hehe.
Was the successful coup d’état this elating?
With the help and cooperation of Professor Horace, past authority from the Faculty Meeting had been transferred to the Student Council. This included approving budget drafts and operating the guard forces.
A natural procedure!
Because the master of the school is the student!
However, despite having undertaken this noble task, with each authority she acquired, her mind sparkled and her heart felt buoyant.
It was too thrilling.
“Uhehe.”
She twisted and turned vigorously.
The devil, who was brushing her disheveled pink hair, looked down with discontent.
“Don’t indulge needlessly. If you become addicted to power, your greed will grow uncontrollably. Whether you abandon desire or cling to it, the end will not be good.”
Pastel, who usually tried to respond kindly, suddenly lifted her head, recalling something while looking at the devil in formal attire.
“Oiweng.”
“Why is that?”
How good it feels to have the Faculty Meeting kneeling before the Student Council.
How good would it feel to have the devil kneel before her?
The girl’s heart pounded violently.
Gathering her trembling voice, she spoke.
“Ah, dear devil.”
“Speak.”
Swallowing dryly, she said.
“May I make a presumptuous request?”
The devil was taken aback. After twirling the comb in her hand, he began to brush Pastel’s hair. The pink hair flowed long and got tidied up.
“If you know it’s presumptuous, don’t speak.”
His voice was firm.
“How can that be?!”
Pastel staggered.
“What do you mean ‘how can that be’? If you think it’s presumptuous, then that means it truly is a presumptuous request.”
The devil rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Hm. To think you’ve determined it’s presumptuous even after considering it with your mischievous head, it truly must be a presumptuous request. Don’t even bring it up.”
Being told not to say it made Pastel want to shout even more.
“Dear devil!”
Trying to speak, she shyly closed her eyes tight.
“Just kneel for once!”
Silence ensued.
Pastel cautiously opened her eyes to observe. The devil looked down at her, speechless and flabbergasted.
Wow.
It felt like becoming an ungrateful child to her guardian.
“Ah, or perhaps if you would use honorifics…?”
Losing momentum, Pastel suddenly had a bright idea.
“Ah! Right! After all, you’re a viscount! Lord Viscount! Isn’t it only natural to speak honorifics to Lord Viscount?!”
That’s right, that’s right!
“To be speaking casually to Lord Viscount! Morality and honor! Etiquette and decency! Please set a good example as a guardian! If you act this way, how will I grow up!?”
Yes, yes!
Pastel waved her arms enthusiastically, fully agreeing with her own argument.
The devil took a step back, crossing his arms as he looked on. His red eyes were filled with disbelief.
“Do you think I’ll respond to that?”
Pastel hesitated. She furrowed her brow and thought seriously.
Then, with a bright face, she quietly stated her hope.
“Lord Viscount, I understand.”
Wow, wow.
Just imagining it filled her with infidelity.
The devil shook his head, elevating his chin as he gazed down at her.
“Young Craft, that is an unachievable demand.”
Ugh.
Pastel stumbled and grew slightly sullen.
“But you go around in the position of a servant anyway! It’s not hard to just use honorifics!”
She clung to the devil’s arm and began to shake it.
“Honorifics! Honorifics! Set a good example!”
The devil poked her in the head with the comb.
Ouch.
“Keep your voice down; others can hear. The hair you just brushed will also get tangled, so stay still. You can sit here.”
The devil dusted off a large wooden box and spread a handkerchief over it.
“Sit.”
The failed coup d’état…
Weak, Pastel sat upon the clean handkerchief. The devil rearranged her hair.
Swinging her legs, she glanced around. The docking station bustling with sailors and mercenaries caught her eye.
Measures inside the Academy for preventing assassination and terror had been completed. Perhaps because Professor Carlow was in charge, the previously half-hearted sewer blockades had been more or less finished; some entrances had been filled in, and soldiers were stationed at others.
Since there were only two days left until the tournament event, it was time to inspect the docking station to ensure safety.
On the other side of the docking station, Leonard approached, leading soldiers. He had informed Max, the head of the soldiers, to delegate some command authority.
In any case, it was a process where Leonard’s subordinates and friends would mobilize soldiers to cover any suspicious individuals. They had been successful in capturing some demons who had been snooping around the Academy.
“Are you still playing while making others do the work?”
Leonard chided.
Pastel, still seated on the box, swung her legs.
“I’m not playing; I’m managing!”
Oh yeah.
“You shameless brat.”
Leonard glanced at the devil and reported.
“We discovered a vessel composed entirely of demonic mercenaries. They say it came from the Demon Realm, but they’ve been docked there doing nothing.”
“Hmm.”
Pastel stopped swinging her legs.
“And then?”
“Upon checking what they were doing, it turned out to be a mercenary captain-level operation. If Alesia Bellevue is the commander, he must be of that caliber to successfully assassinate her, right?”
“And then?”
Leonard, who had been articulating well, raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, what’s with your attitude? Am I your subordinate? Huh?”
Oh wait.
Pastel’s eyes widened.
Thinking about it, she rolled her eyes and cheerfully answered.
“Yep!”
A bright voice echoed.
“What, what?”
Leonard’s mouth fell open.
He looked shocked.
Huh?
Faced with an unexpected reaction, Pastel pondered again.
Hmm, hmm.
Hmm, four bears.
Uweing.
Isn’t he my subordinate?
This is public service, and I am the super ultra power holder.
Arrogance overflowing~!
Yet, despite this feeling of arrogance bubbling up, she did not feel the catharsis of being in a coup d’état.
Commanding Leonard was nothing like feeling elated with the devil.
Why was that?
Upon reflection…
After all, he is weaker than me.
Disappointment.
Conclusion.
After contemplating, Pastel smiled brightly.
“Weaker Leonard! You don’t need to be my subordinate! We’re friends!”
Oh yeah, congratulations.
“Weaker?!”
Leonard’s expression darkened.
“Hey! What kind of thought process led you to say that? Your expression was strange from the start?!”
Oh wait.
I just stated a fact.
As Pastel rolled her eyes, she hopped down from the wooden box. Cheerfully, she raised her arms.
“I’ve spotted an evil villain!”
She immediately dashed forward.
“Let’s go, let’s go~!”
The soldiers followed her.
“Hey! Hey! Won’t you stop?! You shameless brat…!”
Though she heard the calls, they didn’t resonate with her.
Was it because he was weaker than me?
Yep.
