The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World

Some of the scholars couldn’t hide their expressions.

A few openly gaped, mouths parted in disbelief.

Others leaned toward one another, exchanging glances, trying to piece together how someone from the lowest class had just dismantled a question the whole room had quietly given up on.

Silvena, only then realizing she had been holding her breath. The sound was quiet, almost inaudible, but it marked her incredulity.

"...He really solved it."

Even the room started to change.

The quiet snorts and dismissive scoffs that were previously heard whenever Class E was brought up were no longer present.

Then, without waiting for permission, Ruvian spoke.

"Instructor."

The words came out naturally.

"I apologize for my tardiness."

He said it plainly, like the words were simply a formality.

Instructor Orlan folded his arms, studying the boy with a cautious gaze.

"Is that all you have to say?" he asked.

Ruvian tilted his head by the smallest degree. "No. I believe it is only fair to clarify the circumstances of my delay."

Ruvian said courteously.

"The class I attended before this extended beyond its scheduled time."

"The instructor in my class held us back for additional instruction. I did not have the authority to refuse. And, as I am the only Class E scholar enrolled in this elective, I have no fellow classmates who can corroborate my explanation."

Silvena noticed he wasn’t asking for leniency. There was no plea in his voice, and no hint of desperation.

He knew that he wasn’t wrong here.

Instructor Orlan finally broke the silence.

"Very well." (+50PP)

There was no apology or acknowledgment that his earlier judgment had been hasty or unfair. That was not a luxury a man like him ever offered. His pride was tightly bound.

He turned away from Ruvian, his robe sweeping slightly as he faced the rest of the hall.

"Go, and take your seats. We are already behind schedule."

The command came, cutting off all remaining whispers.

And just like that, the moment dissolved.

Ruvian gave a slight nod, then walked quietly toward the nearest empty bench.

He sat down with the same measured ease he had shown from the moment he entered, unaffected by the lingering stares that trailed him.

He sighed.

’That question almost got me there, if not for him giving the hints, I would have gotten kicked out of this elective forever.’

Ruvian wanted to complain, but all in all, he managed to overcome the question, so he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

Before entering the hall, he had already weighed the good and the consequences.

Knowing how Orlan usually behaved, he had expected way ahead of time that he needed to answer a question to get out of the scenario.

So, Ruvian was mentally prepared. The room hadn’t forgotten what just happened, but he acted like none of it mattered anymore.

Silvena’s eyes followed him.

Ruvian looked neither proud nor relieved on his face.

Instructor Orlan made no effort to dwell on it too.

Without hesitation, he turned back to the manaboard and lifted his hand, inscribing another sequence of symbols across the surface.

The lesson resumed as usual.

But the eyes that occasionally flicked toward Ruvian suggested the memory would not be forgotten quite so easily.

*****

Ruvian’s eyes stayed fixed on the manaboard, watching every stroke of mana shape itself into learning structures.

This was what he had come for.

Not just the merit points, although they would serve as a useful buffer later on — but this.

The man had a reputation for calculating spell matrices so accurately that even failure bowed to his designs.

For someone like Ruvian, who lacked even the basics of formal magical computation, that kind of precision was a goldmine.

’By the way, what’s wrong with her? I mean, why is she still staring at me?"

’Why didn’t she focus on the damn lecture in the front?’

Silvena didn’t bother with subtlety. Her gaze was menacing, and utterly unashamed of its focus on him.

He didn’t need to check twice to know she was still staring.

’Is she planning to watch me for the entire lecture?’

’Hah. What a twisted kind of person.’

’Whatever.’

In the end, he had no time to think about that.

Later, Orlan had shifted subjects, moving on to the theoretical core behind teleportation spells; [Blink].

Ruvian leaned forward and began to write, carefully, transcribing every word he understood and sketching out diagrams for those he didn’t.

Time slipped past unnoticed, until at last Orlan closed the manaboard with a flick of his fingers.

The lecture was over.

Scholars began to rise and flood toward the exits.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise.

"Castelor."

The room was enveloped by silence once again.

Half-turned heads paused in motion. Ruvian looked down, eyes falling to the front where Orlan stood, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"If you’re the last person through that door again, you won’t be coming back into this class."

"Do you understand me?"

Ruvian met the instructor’s gaze and gave a single nod.

"Understood." (+30PP)

He stood, gathered his things, and walked toward the exit without once looking back.

The corridor beyond was alive with motion, students flooding out of lecture halls, their chatter echoing through the high stone arches.

He moved through them like smoke slipping past flame, his thoughts already shifting to the next elective class.

Herbalogy.

He wasn’t particularly fond of plants, and there was no sentimental reason behind his choice, but the subject held a kind of practical utility he couldn’t ignore.

Poisons, antidotes, field salves, ingredients for alchemical mixtures — it was the kind of knowledge that could easily be repurposed into something.

Before the idea could unfold any further in his mind, a voice called out from behind.

"Where are you heading?" Corwin caught up and fell into step beside him.

Ruvian didn’t look over and gave a shrug, almost careless.

"Just a leisurely walk."

Corwin gave him a sideways glance, already suspicious.

"Leisurely... to where?"

"Herbology." Ruvian said.

Corwin made a strangled noise, bringing a hand to his face. "I-I keep forgetting you have a completely twisted definition of what’s ’leisurely.’"

He walked a little while in silence, clearly weighing something. Then, with a sigh, Corwin added, "You know what? Maybe I’ll try it. Herbology and Alchemy aren’t bad electives."

"Yeah, it is a good choice," Ruvian replied without inflection.

Corwin continued. "I picked Enchantment too. Not bad, really. Definitely not as painful as I thought it’d be."

"I see."

Corwin hesitated, then asked, "What about you?"

"How was yours?"

At first, it seemed like Ruvian wasn’t going to answer. His expression didn’t shift, his eyes stayed forward, and his pace didn’t slow.

’Hmm, what should I say...’

Then, as though he was recounting something mildly inconvenient, he said:

"Hmm, well, I did fight with Instructor Orlan and somehow survived."

"I see, you fought with..."

"You—what?"

Corwin nearly tripped over his own feet.

Ruvian kept walking.

"You fought with—I’m sorry, you what?"

Corwin blinked rapidly.

"That’s... that’s not something you just throw out and then ignore me. Are you serious? Are you seriously telling me you fought with Instructor Orlan?"

"Yes, I’m not joking."

Corwin stared at him, desperate for clarification.

"You’re messing with me. You have to be. Right?"

A smirk crept onto Ruvian’s face, slow, and entirely unjustified.

Corwin let out a strangled groan.

"Oh, come on! Ruvian... Say something. You just make me curious to know."

Ruvian smiled thinly.

"That’s something I’ll explain to you another time."

By the time they reached the Herbology classroom, Corwin looked like he was on the verge of grabbing him by the collar and shaking the truth out.

Ruvian, of course, didn’t say a word. He simply met his friend’s stare with that same infuriating look before stepping through the door.

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[Chapter 83: Calculated Disruption (2)]