The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World

The next morning arrived with little grace.

Ruvian strolled down the stone pathway that ran through the academy’s southern wing, his strides steady but his mind anything but settled.

The sun shone brightly, and the sky was clear. However, none of that could compensate for the ordeal he had just faced.

He grumbled softly to himself.

”So, now they do want to teach us.”

After days filled with silence, disregard, and barely concealed disdain, a lecturer had finally arrived to address their so-called ”mandatory” core subject.

The instructor didn’t even take the time to introduce himself properly.

He simply walked into the classroom, dropped a pile of dusty texts onto the desk, and began speaking.

The class focused on the Foundations of Mana and Magical Theory, which initially seemed promising, until the instructor spent two hours reciting concepts that could have easily been summarized in ten minutes.

Then, he even gave an assignment about a detailed comparative report on at least three spell conjuring techniques.

Which was due next weekend.

That alone would have been enough to sour his mood for the day.

But it wasn’t the worst part.

Nope.

That came next.

His next class will be his first elective class which was in the Mathematics Hall, located in one of the older buildings near the west courtyard.

Ruvian could already sense its burden weighing on him as he climbed the steps.

He sighed in disbelief.

He realized immediately that his last lecture had run over time. This was the ploy used to give Class E a demerit for arriving late to their elective class.

To make matters worse, there hadn’t been a single other Class E scholar enrolled in this elective besides him, so he had no evidence to support his claim that his previous lecture had gone long, but he knew they probably wouldn’t care to listen to his explanation.

”I guess nobody likes Math, even in a fantasy world.”

In his previous world, math and science were essential components of any serious education. You couldn’t complete school without them. They were foundational. Indispensable.

However, in this place? They were just electives, an extra course nobody opted for. Although the basics were covered in general lectures, but anything more?

It’s up to the individual.

But Ruvian had three key reasons for choosing this elective.

Firstly, Silvena D’Elvoire. If he wished to grasp the direction this new path would take, he had to observe her closely. She was an anomaly which wasn’t from this academy in the first place, after all.

Being in Class E made it more challenging for Ruvian to monitor her progress. So, attending this elective would give him the chance for that.

Secondly, Instructor Orlan Marthias. The man was not merely a mathematician fixated on calculations. This man had invaluable lessons to impart, and learning from him was essential, even if it meant tolerating his notorious temperament.

Lastly, promotion points. Advancing through the ranks of Velthia required more than just proficiency in combat or magic.

Academic performance played a crucial role.

Although mathematics may not carry the same honor as spellcasting in this context, it nonetheless contributed to his academic progression.

If anything, math can be a great subject for boosting his scores. If someone understands how it functions, it’s merely just a piece of cake.

Not that hard since he has a good foundation.

He wasn’t being boastful. In his previous world, achieving high marks in mathematics was never a matter of difficulty.

It was never a problem to him at all.

At last, he reached the hall.

”Hah... Crap, I’m really late.”

The heavy wooden door to the hall stood just a few paces ahead, shut tight. Which meant the class had started a while ago.

Which also meant that every single person inside would notice when he pushed it open.

With a resigned sigh, he dragged a hand through his hair and stepped forward, mumbling under his breath as he reached for the door handle.

”...I hope I get out with all my limbs intact.”

As Ruvian entered the hall, a profound and instantaneous silence enveloped the surroundings.

A myriad of gazes shifted towards him simultaneously. (+40PP)

He hesitated at the threshold before taking a decisive step inside, allowing himself a moment to fully appreciate the significance of his entrance.

The scholars sitting on the other side of the room remained silent, but their faces revealed a variety of emotions, from surprise to amusement to annoyance.

While a couple of them seemed to be anticipating a negative reaction, as if they were expecting him to face criticism immediately.

In that moment, he felt a sense of amusement bubbling up inside him, almost causing him to laugh.

’This feels familiar... just like that underground investigation back in Sector Ten.’

It reminded him of a case he’d handled back in the old world, back when things were a little messier.

He vividly recalled the details—four people deceased, one person missing, and a trail of blood leading him to a basement full of dead bodies and three suspects armed with a grin and a machete.

This particular case didn’t physically harm him as he somehow managed to get out of it unscathed, but the memory of facing death stayed with him for weeks.

In comparison, the current situation seemed minor.

He proceeded forward with composure and ease, unaffected by the stares directed towards him.

He had become accustomed to being scrutinized and regarded with skepticism. In his perception, these gazes held no significance.

He allowed the gazes to wash over him without reaction.

Subsequently, his attention was drawn to the individual at the forefront of the chamber.

Instructor Orlan was positioned next to a towering slate board, his silhouette distinct against the illumination emanating from the grand arched windows.

He was adorned in a somber academic attire fastened up to his neckline. He wore glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose, with his eyes looking focused and cold behind them, seemingly lacking annoyance but somehow exuding it.

Orlan had zero tolerance for incompetence, making no room for excuses or tardiness. Rumors had it that his lectures were more daunting than the magical exams, resulting in students failing to meet his standards being removed from the class roster without any prior notice.

”Ruvian Castelor.”

He spoke his name calmly and clearly, causing heads to turn in the room.

Ruvian sensed the scholars’ attention shifting towards Orlan and him.

Yet he maintained direct eye contact with the instructor.

There was no sign of uncertainty in Ruvian’s demeanor. If Orlan was looking for any doubts on his face, he did not find any.

Whispers began at the rear, then quickly spread to the front.

”Class E can’t even figure out how to read a timetable.”

”He’s done. Toast. Totally done.”

”Entering Orlan’s class this late... does he want to die or is he just dumb?”

”Who the hell does he think he is?”

And from the center of the second row, Silvena crossed one leg over the other, fingers resting lightly on her chin as she tilted her head.

Her eyes glinted mischievously, as she studied him.

Instructor Orlan stood motionless at the front of the classroom, observing Ruvian for an extended period of time.

When he finally spoke, his tone was authoritative. The atmosphere in the room felt more intense due to the subtle, but strong presence of his voice.

”You... on what grounds do you presume that arriving late to my class is acceptable?”

”And what manner of thought leads a scholar from Class E to carry himself with such confidence despite being late?”

──────── ✦ ────────

[Chapter 81: The Late Scholar]

Plot Points= 13680

A/N: Kindly check the Author’s Note below :)