“...”
Looking at Greg, who had suddenly appeared in the living room, Luna silently let go of her face-propping fingers and reverted to her usual expressionless state.
Her white hair gleamed softly under the dim light, and her distinctively pointed elven ears twitched slightly. Her pale purple eyes gazed calmly at Greg, as if the person making that bizarre face just a moment ago hadn't been her at all.
Right at that moment, Olivia's loud, mocking voice rang out from the side:
“Hahaha! You broke first, so you lose! Drink up!”
Without a word, Luna grabbed a nearby wine bottle and smashed it with pinpoint accuracy right onto Olivia's slightly tipsy head.
The bottle shattered on impact. Amber liquid poured down from the top of Olivia's head, dripping onto the floor along her hair and cheeks.
Jolted by the ice-cold alcohol, Olivia shuddered violently.
She shook the liquid from her head and looked at Greg with a solemn expression. “Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
Isn't it a bit too late to start putting on headmistress airs now? Greg thought to himself.
Although he had suspected Olivia might still be drinking before he entered, he had never expected Luna, the Headmistress of the Branch-String Sanctuary, to be here as well.
Then again, it made sense. Her relationship with Olivia was like stinky tofu—it smelled awful, but tasted wonderful once you got a taste.
In the end, it was Greg's own fault for failing to anticipate this unexpected development.
Regardless, with Luna present, Greg couldn't just drag Olivia straight into his mess.
But that didn't mean he was completely out of options.
Since Luna had taken it upon herself to view him as her disciple, she clearly thought highly of him.
If he adjusted his strategy, he might even be able to rope this discount master of his into helping out too. That would give him an even greater margin for error.
With that in mind, Greg's expression quickly shifted into one of deep distress.
He slumped his shoulders, let out a soft sigh, and spoke in a weary, downcast tone:
“It's nothing major... I'm just in a bit of a bad mood and wanted to ask the Headmistress for a drink.”
The moment Olivia heard Greg was in a bad mood, she instantly sobered up.
She slammed her hand onto the table, making the empty bottles clatter. Her voice boomed with righteous indignation:
“What?! Someone dared to upset our academy's star student—the one who topped the preliminary defense, shattered historical records, and scored a perfect mark in the secondary defense?! Tell me their name! I'll go shoot them in the back right now!”
Olivia's intense reaction wasn't just because she cared about Greg's mental well-being. It was because Greg was currently her ultimate bragging tool!
Although he had nearly given her a heart attack by dragging her into that massive stunt in front of the Holy Church of Light's Saintess, she was otherwise extremely satisfied with his performance during this exchange.
Thanks to him, the headmasters of the other four great academies didn't even dare speak loudly in front of her anymore.
Just yesterday, she had run into Isadora, the Headmistress of Ironpledge Crucible, in the corridor.
That woman, who was always a wild beast on the battlefield but gloomy in private, had immediately tried to take a detour to avoid her.
But how could Olivia let such a perfect opportunity slip by?
She intercepted Isadora in three quick strides. With a beaming smile, she blocked her path, reached out to gently brush aside the black hair covering half of Isadora's face, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear with a mix of intimacy and provocation:
“Isadora, did you know? My Greg isn't just academically brilliant—his practical combat is actually even stronger. What do you think? Interested? Want me to take you to see just how capable he is?~”
Isadora's face had turned completely dark on the spot. However, she was a woman of few words and couldn't find a way to refute her, especially since she had just heard about Greg defeating Ember-Eye Tower's top genius, Juno.
In the end, she could only let out a cold snort, bypass Olivia, and walk away.
Olivia still remembered exactly how incredibly satisfying that moment had felt.
Later, she had bumped into Aurora, the Headmistress of Ember-Eye Tower, in the upscale dining hall.
Olivia had sat right across from her, sighing in a seemingly casual tone:
“Oh, Aurora, I heard you recently found some incredible treasure in Snowfall Valley? I'm so envious. Unlike me, I've only managed to discover Greg in our academy. Aside from taking first place in the preliminary defense and getting a perfect score in the secondary defense, he's completely useless. Sigh, it's such a headache.”
Aurora's hand, which was holding a soup spoon, froze in midair. She remained silent for a long moment before glaring at Olivia with a look that said, ‘If you want to fight, just say so.’
Olivia had simply returned an innocent smile and slowly sipped her soup.
Furthermore, after the final headmasters' meeting yesterday, Olivia had deliberately caught up with Yuemei, the Headmistress of Trench Altar.
Walking side-by-side down the corridor, Olivia asked with feigned curiosity:
“By the way, Yuemei, I recall Trench Altar places a lot of importance on bloodlines, right? But my Greg is just a regular human born in the Year of the Dog. How is he so much stronger than your Gloom Wolf Tribe's Young Mistress? Could it be... the bloodline theory isn't actually that accurate?”
Yuemei stopped in her tracks and turned. Her usually gentle expression vanished, replaced by a cold stare. She stared at Olivia for a full ten seconds without saying a single word before turning and walking away.
Standing there, Olivia felt as refreshed as if she had just chugged a glass of ice-cold lemonade on a scorching summer day. She had slept incredibly well that night.
In the past, whenever she deliberately went to pick fights with them, Olivia had never felt so confident.
After all, due to her personal lifestyle and conduct, she had always felt that the other headmasters—aside from Luna—secretly looked down on her, even though they were technically equals.
Back then, she truly didn't have any achievements worth bragging about, so she had just swallowed her pride.
But things were different now. With Greg as her trump card, she could hold her head high no matter who she faced.
Even her long-time friend, Luna, had actively poured her a drink at the table just to ask about taking Greg as her disciple!
One had to understand that Luna was famously an airhead who always did things her own way, completely disregarding etiquette.
Getting her to proactively pour a drink for someone else was rarer than the sun rising from the west.
Therefore, Greg was incredibly important to her now. If anyone dared to lay a finger on him, she would fight them to the bitter end!
Rate on N.U.
