It's Overwhelmingly Convenient That the Female Lead Has Darkened - Chapter 73

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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It’s overwhelmingly convenient that the female lead has gone dark.
#73
Stupid people would think they’d lit the candles themselves, but Janet Hoer could sense exactly where the Mana was coming from the moment each flame ignited.
‘……Thirty-nine…….’
Janet Hoer recalled the number of candles she’d lit the first time she’d ever felt Mana.
Thirty-nine wasn’t it.
‘Damn it!’
Her thin lips bled from how hard she gnawed them, and finally, having made her decision, Janet closed the Card that had been firing off fireworks endlessly.
And then.
Rip!
She tore the Card to shreds without mercy.
Ding-ding-ding!
In that moment, a Communication Device tucked in the corner of the laboratory shrieked to life.
It had to be from the Magic Tower.
But instead of answering the Communication Device, Janet Hoer collapsed into that wretched laboratory chair.
‘Damn it all…….’
She had no idea that her expression, spilling curses, looked remarkably happy.
* * *
The third counseling session.
Seven professors sat before Daisy.
Or was it even appropriate to call such people “professors”—such a comparatively modest word?
Dorian MacDowell, the Sword Theory professor, still boasted a frame nearly two meters tall with forearms thick as a man’s torso.
The chair supporting his massive body looked precarious enough to snap at a single tap.
Of course, the other professors were no lesser to MacDowell.
They were all powerful men who could dispatch a dozen giants from the Underground Labyrinth in a single go—yet here they were, abusing their chairs.
And among them, Daisy couldn’t tear her eyes away from the person seated in the place of highest honor.
A woman with long reddish-brown hair pulled up in a bun had a solemn bearing, a frame well over 180 centimeters tall, and visibly rigid muscle.
But what stood out most was the light in her eyes.
Her deep burgundy gaze fixed on Daisy with an intensity that seemed to pierce right through her.
“Knight Academy Dean Catherine Branholt.”
Branholt introduced herself in a low, deep voice.
Then she turned to MacDowell, seated beside her.
“MacDowell, shall we begin?”
“Yes, Dean.”
Begin what……?
It was then that Daisy looked around nervously.
MacDowell set something down before her.
A hardcover tome, nearly 800 pages, bound in cloth.
It was Basic Sword Theory.
“Now, tear it.”
“…….”
“……”
“……Right now?”
Daisy picked up Basic Sword Theory, wondering if this really counted as counseling.
And then.
Rrrip!
“Splendid!”
“In one motion!”
“The balance Professor MacDowell spoke of is truly remarkable!”
“And the muscle control!”
Admiration poured from the professors.
MacDowell turned to Branholt with a satisfied expression.
“…….”
Branholt said nothing.
She merely examined Daisy from head to toe with meticulous care, then spoke.
“Good. Let’s do it that way.”
Do what exactly……?
“Yes, Dean.”
What on earth……?
* * *
She never did find out what that meant.
All she got was a rebuke when she said she’d start with the basics—as if a girl who could barely tear pages apart was now expected to handle advanced material.
But what was she supposed to do, then?
Daisy carried her unresolved curiosity to her fourth counseling session, heading toward the theology professor’s office.
Ain Hetuse, the theology professor, was an old man with snow-white hair.
Wrinkled face, white brows hanging over half-closed eyes, stooped shoulders, age-spotted hands thin as parchment, and a slow, quiet way of speaking.
The elderly man, who looked as though he’d lived nearly a century, possessed the remarkable ability to put not just freshmen to sleep with a mere glance, but even insomniacs.
Just like now.
…….
…….
“Daisy.”
*Cough.*
Daisy jerked awake, hastily wiping her mouth with her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m used to it.”
Ain Hetuse replied graciously.
Daisy’s gaze drifted to the flickering candlelight, and she began to drift again—no!
Her eyes snapped wide open as she stared at the theology professor.
There was something she absolutely had to ask him.
“Professor, why on earth did you mark me as needing counseling?”
…….
“Honestly, I can understand other subjects, you know? But theology—I just can’t wrap my head around it.”
…….
“Didn’t you notice I was half-asleep the entire class?”
…….
But the theology professor didn’t answer.
He only gazed steadily at Daisy across the candlelight.
“Professor?”
And when Daisy finally couldn’t bear the silence any longer, she spoke up.
The professor suddenly looked toward the ceiling and asked.
“You saw it all?”
…?
Daisy followed his gaze to the ceiling.
But there was nothing there.
Well, there was something—a sculpture of an angel-like figure descending from the heavens was carved into it.
“It’s finished.”
“What is?”
“The counseling.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The Divine wished to see you, so I marked you as needing counseling.”
“The Divine? Why on earth would they want to see me?”
Ain Hetuse, the theology professor, had been silent for a moment before finally speaking.
“It’s said that the prayers you offer are the most amusing.”
“Prayers? I don’t really do that sort of……”
Daisy was about to say she didn’t pray, when she suddenly remembered.
All those rambling bits of nonsense she’d been spouting while staring lazily up at the sky.
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
Daisy glared at the ceiling, thoughts racing.
You’ve been listening this whole time?!
“So it would seem.”
Wait—if that’s the case.
“Hold on, Professor, please!”
Daisy cried out urgently, looking up at the ceiling.
Oh, for heaven’s sake!
How do I get out of this world in the book—
“It says you’re not being heard.”
…….
“It says ‘la-la-la-la-la.'”
…….
Daisy watched the old man repeating ‘la-la-la-la’ with his fingers plugged in his ears, then asked.
“Professor, would it be sacrilege if I hit a god?”
“I’ve never tried, so I wouldn’t know.”
Daisy thought it was an remarkably honest answer.
* * *
By the time four sessions of counseling had ended, the entire day was slipping away into dusk.
Daisy made her way back through the dim corridors to her Dormitory bedroom.
And…
[…….]
“…….”
Black Magpie was still on strike.
Sprawled flat in the center of the bed with its round belly thrust toward the ceiling, the magpie’s posture finally drove Daisy to surrender, both hands raised.
“Fine, fine. Come on, let’s go.”
[Screech.]
Daisy scooped up the magpie and left the Dormitory, heading for Seymour Forest.
She needed somewhere away from prying eyes.
Of course, there was the minor drawback of potentially running into polar bears.
But Daisy had something to rely on.
“Hey.”
[Screech.]
“Turn into a polar bear.”
[Huh?]
The magpie sprawled across the grass lifted its head slightly, tilting it in confusion.
“A polar bear. You know.”
[Chirp.]
The magpie flopped back down with an expression that said it had no idea what she meant.
Daisy watched it for a moment, thinking, then spoke.
“Then try turning into a milk lion. You know, Monica’s Summon.”
[Chirrup!]
In an instant, Black Magpie transformed into a small black cat.
“Hmm… so can you do a viper too? That cursed thing’s Summon—I saw it in the bag, remember?”
[Strange cry.]
The black cat shook its head with an odd sound.
It wasn’t that it couldn’t do it.
“Oh, pretending you hate snakes is a lie. I actually like snakes. It’s that bastard I can’t stand.”
[Screech.]
In a flash, the black cat became a black serpent.
[Hisss.]
Jet-black from head to tail, the serpent flicked its dark tongue and hissed wickedly.
Daisy gently scratched the snake’s jaw and asked, “So… could you turn into a platypus too?”
[What?]
The black serpent tilted its small head uncertainly.
“You know, what the Vice Principal said that time. A long, flat bill…”
The moment Daisy finished speaking, the Summon transformed back into a black magpie—and a long, flat bill began to grow where its original beak had been.
But looking closely, it wasn’t quite a real bill at all.
The magpie had simply reshaped its own beak to match the description—long and flat.
“What it hasn’t seen, it can’t imitate. But if you describe something, it can manage a rough approximation…”
Daisy tapped the flattened beak with one finger, then asked, “So what exactly are you?”
[Screech.]
Whoosh.
In seconds, a massive black wolf lowered its head and tapped Daisy’s hand with its snout.
Tap, tap.
“What are you trying to say?”
Daisy was turning her palms upward in bewilderment when—
Click.
The black wolf placed one enormous forepaw gently across her palm.
[Screech.]

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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