Chapter: 342
I always think about it, but Benedict is way too dramatic.
I mean, we’ve talked through the magic crystal at least three times a week!
Why, right when he sees my face, does he run at me with tears in his eyes like this isn’t a reunion after ages?
And, man, how strong is he?
When he hugs me from over there, I literally can’t breathe physically.
I’ve tried pushing him away with all my might, but how can my arms not budge at all?
Is this guy even human?
It feels like he’s from a completely different breed!
…Ah, actually, if I think about it that way, I’m kind of from a different breed too.
[If those who were fussing about your new rumors just heard that, they’d probably think you belong to a different breed as well.]
In the past, I would’ve denied it, but as I stood waiting for Benedict and heard all those stories, I couldn’t shake my head.
I’m the one destined to carry on the glory of the Allen family.
I’m destined to elevate the kingdom’s reputation.
Some say I might even become a monster that surpasses Benedict Allen. How do I know what they think of me now?
Looking back, I have done some pretty crazy things.
I think of it as the rotten water of the Soul Academy needing to do this much, but for those who lack this background knowledge, it’s interpreted completely differently.
[I was delighted to hear their stories. The child who was once met with contempt is now the subject of admiration.]
Grandpa was pleased as if it were his business, but as the person involved, I couldn’t laugh in peace.
The god only gave me everything except my personality!
I can’t accept that!
That damn sloppy perverted god gave me that personality!
Every other thing I got, I fought tooth and nail to earn!
Honestly, I was tuning out on other conversations, but when I heard that, I just couldn’t hold my tongue.
If Benedict hadn’t suddenly popped out over there, I might have grabbed him by the collar.
“Lucy, Lucy. Are you listening to Papa?”
…Oh, damn it. Got caught zoning out. I thought if I pretended to listen, they wouldn’t notice.
Rude, huh? I know! But what can I do! Hearing Benedict fuss makes me cringe!
‘Yup, I’m listening!’
“Don’t worry! Even your foolish father’s coarse voice is annoyingly clear!”
“Ha ha! That’s a relief!”
Benedict’s fuss didn’t fade even after I got super annoyed.
Even with the food from the best restaurant in Soul Academy, Tier La Mas, right in front of me, he was too busy bragging to even touch the dishes.
It’s such a waste to let that delicious food get cold.
If I knew this would happen, I should’ve just brought along our dorky friend.
Then I could’ve seen his happy smile!
“Lately, your Papa has been struggling to hold back from visiting places where people gather. I hear nothing but compliments about my daughter!”
He’s just pandering, isn’t he?
How could he only say good things about Lucy, given all the trouble she has caused?
…Honestly, right now, my infamy is mixed up with Lucy’s, so I can’t entirely blame her.
“It’s the same when bards come! The apostle from the Arts Church composed songs to praise your beauty — they are so sweet! I heard from the housekeeper that every time a bard visits, I have to go out to the entrance!”
Ugh. So that pervert thinks his song is that good?!
It’s being sung every time the bards visit cities?!
I want to think this is just Benedict exaggerating, but remembering that perverted apostle’s talent in the arts makes me think otherwise.
I don’t want to know what songs are spreading; finding out will surely make me wriggle in self-loathing.
“Lately, I’ve been absorbed in examining the Dungeon Studies’ texts. Compliments about the dungeon you made come up all the time, and it brings me a smile each time!”
So he’s seen that.
Well, among the noblemen, it’s kind of standard to check the Dungeon Studies, so it’s not surprising he couldn’t miss it.
As I listened to how much praise my dungeon was receiving, one question popped up in my head.
Did Benedict succeed in conquering that dungeon?
Does this hulking guy who looks like he’s filled with muscles even in his brain manage to bypass its gimmicks?
“Why are you asking what’s obvious? How could I not conquer the dungeon my daughter made?”
Benedict spoke confidently, but I couldn’t easily believe his words.
If someone has such insane physical abilities, it’s only normal that they’d struggle at puzzles.
When you have a body like that, why think? Just crush everything and the dungeon will yield!
“The best part was that it made me believe I woke up from a dream. You read human psychology very well.”
But as I listened closely to what Benedict said, I started to believe that this man truly conquered the dungeon.
The things he described couldn’t just come from reading a guidebook.
To be overwhelmingly powerful yet smart too? What a cheat! Complete imbalance!
[Well, that applies to you as well, I said before.]
‘I’m not that clever!’
If I were smart, would I be praying to the Dice God every time I took an exam?!
<…Honestly, you didn’t have to act so knightly.>
‘What on earth do you mean?’
Not sure why, but it felt like he was mocking me, and just as I was about to express my irritation, Benedict said something unexpected.
“Oh! By the way, Lucy. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
‘A request?’
“A request? Foolish Papa requesting something?”
“Yeah. They say you can experience the dungeon you made at the academy. Can this Papa give it a go?”
*
The Dungeon Studies final exam site was still bustling with people long after the exam had ended.
The difference now is that the people causing the commotion are different.
When the exam was in full swing, the place was packed with students, but now it’s filled with folks here to experience my dungeon.
Thanks to that, the teaching assistants still have a pile of work to do.
No, I should say the workload has increased.
The folks they need to cater to have shifted from students of the academy to those with power.
In a medieval fantasy world, the type of people who can spring into action wherever they want certainly aren’t your average Joes!
If you mess with these people, you’re likely to lose your head—figuratively and literally.
Is that why? The assistants’ faces were a mess.
They were just crying a moment ago saying the exam was over; how pitiful.
But what can you do?
You chose this graduate program!
If you agreed to be a slave, then commit for life!
“Count Allen! It’s been a while!”
“Oh! Lord Mold. Long time no see. Are you here to conquer the dungeon my daughter made?”
“Yes! After seeing it in the texts, I couldn’t help my excitement!”
“Haha! I’m glad to hear that! Oh? Baron Ruby! I heard you took a vacation in your territory after the war.”
“So here I am for a bit of relaxation.”
While I felt pity for the assistants, Benedict was happily exchanging greetings with the nobles at the exam site.
His demeanor wasn’t the serious one from the Partlan Festival; he seemed genuinely glad to see old friends. Do these people all have ties to him?
Those expressing joy around Benedict also extended their greetings to me.
They complimented my looks and talents, saying they’ve heard the rumors and laughed, but the moment I replied with a few snarky remarks, their expressions soured.
Of course, no one got angry because they were looking to Benedict for approval.
“Is the Allen count here to experience the dungeon too?”
“Yes. Being my daughter’s creation, I thought I should attempt to conquer it myself.”
“Wow, if it’s Count Allen, I’m sure you’ll break records!”
“Breaking the record held by Allen himself—a romantic notion indeed.”
“Records?”
“Yes, look over there.”
One of the nobles pointed to the dungeon’s speedrun record.
“Since the dungeon opened to outsiders, many have challenged the Young Lady Allen’s record, but none have surpassed it.”
Just as this person said, nobles challenging my record in the academy dungeon have all claimed that it’s unreasonable for a young girl to set such a high score.
However, these challengers soon learned just how high the record wall really was.
Despite numerous attempts to surpass it, there hasn’t been any sign of the record breaking.
Even now, the second-place record is still a full minute behind. No need to elaborate on what it was like during the initial opening.
Even though there were people who shouted how ridiculous that record was, a video of me speedrunning put those arguments to rest instantly.
“Wow. There’s no way I can catch up!”
“That’s a record that only Young Lady Allen can set!”
“I keep trying but every time I’m left in awe of its greatness!”
The nobles surrounding Benedict were showering him with admiration, but I just couldn’t relate to their praises.
Especially coming from people way more superior physically than me.
I truly don’t get it.
I literally showed them the answer sheet to my speedrun, so why can’t they follow it?
If these people just mimic that, wouldn’t they beat my time easily?
[Young lady, that’s how common folks operate. They don’t think down to 0.1-second variables in dungeons.]
‘So that’s what’s wrong! To break the record, they need that kind of effort!’
Speed running isn’t a game!
If they don’t put in the effort, there’s no way I would feel pleased hearing them call me amazing!
If anything, these so-called experts just grind my gears! I clenched my lips to keep from snapping at the absurdities bouncing around me when Benedict chuckled.
“Hmm. I’ll need to try harder to become a proud father.”
After saying that, Benedict entered the dungeon.
I dashed away from the nobles who were making me uncomfortable and ran to the assistants.
I wanted to watch through the magic crystal as Benedict tackled my dungeon.
I’m just curious to see how this powerhouse who’s off the charts tackles my dungeon.
I snatched the crystal from the assistants and blinked at the sight of Benedict on the training grounds.
…Wait?
Why is he already on the first room?
He just walked in, how did he cross the hall that fast?
I was left blinking at a speed that exceeded my expectations when Benedict pulled his arm back behind him.
‘Should I try something cheeky?’
And then the instant he thrust his fist forward, all the soldiers and knights standing on the training grounds fell over,
and naturally, the door leading to the next room opened.
‘Excuse me, Grandpa.’
[Hmm?]
‘What does “I’m just like you or Dad” even mean after that? Is this even the same species as me? This makes no sense!’
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