Misfit At Magic Academy: They Wanted a Godly Summon, Got Me Instead
Chapter 35: Earned It

Chapter 35: Earned It

"Sixth place goes to... Team Saddler! They were eliminated in stage two, but displayed phenomenal command of Magic and the Elements!"

...Come on.

"Fourth place... Team Himitsu!"

Come on...

"And third place... Team Tyrion Grimmveil! Their high-spirit summons impressed even the most skeptical judges!"

Aimer’s eyes trembled. She couldn’t wait for the result.

Who would be first?

"Second place goes to... Team Sylas Grimmveil!"

At that moment, Aimer froze. Her eyes — hollow. She remembered the number 170. If Sylas only made second with that, there was no way we’d be first.

We lagged behind both Sylas and Tyrion in points. We didn’t even showcase many unique techniques. The result was obvious.

"And in first place..."

"I don’t want to hear it..." Aimer lowered her head and covered her ears. "I don’t want to know..."

I placed my hand on her shoulder. My calm expression gave her strength. But she couldn’t hide the pressure.

"...the judges have chosen the winners..."

"Why? How can you be so calm?.." Aimer mumbled.

...

"And the winners are—Team Aimer Grimmveil and Atheron il Ataraxia!!"

The crowd erupted. Confetti burst over our heads. The other teams clapped too, sighing in disbelief.

And Aimer’s expression changed. She froze in shock, not knowing how to react.

I simply smiled and closed my eyes.

"Congratulations."

"Let’s give it up for our newly crowned magicians! They proved that victory isn’t just about points—but unity! Their fierce determination and coordination stunned the judges!

Their fighting style will be discussed and copied for decades to come!"

Aimer’s eyes welled up. Tears of joy ran down her cheeks.

"I’m crying. How embarrassing, the audience will laugh at me," she tried to wipe them away.

"Fool. You’re the champion. You’re allowed everything."

I patted her head. She hugged me tightly and stopped holding back her tears.

"The judges have also named this team... the Promising Duo of the New Generation.

Atheron il Ataraxia — a rising star in the magical world, declared the Greatest Mage of His Generation!"

Tyrion raised the bronze cup. Sylas held the silver.

I was handed the gold—the largest trophy. Aimer clapped for me.

Lirael, standing in the crowd, smiled sincerely.

I turned to Aimer and gave her the trophy. Etched on it were the words: "For the great houses of Grimmveil and Ataraxia, who have earned this honor."

"This is yours. You earned it."

She froze, nearly dropping it. Her smile stretched ear to ear.

"If only we could preserve this moment... If only we could take a picture to last forever," she whispered.

A tap on her shoulder—it was Sylas and Tyrion.

"Here, little sis."

They handed her the second- and third-place trophies. She could barely hold them.

"C-careful, You’ll drop them! Be gentle, sis!"

"Y-yeah... Sylas, Tyrion... You did this... for me?"

"Of course! You deserve all three trophies. Honestly, without you, we wouldn’t even have entered the tournament!"

"Guys... Geez, you idiots! Why hide that from me?!"

She turned to look for me. Her eyes searched the crowd — but I was gone.

I’d left without saying goodbye.

Because my part was done.

Aimer’s mother wrapped her in a tight hug, holding on as if afraid to let go. Her father stood nearby, arms crossed. When his gaze met Tyrion’s and Sylas’s, he gave a single, respectful nod.

"You did it," her mother whispered. "All three of you... I’m so proud."

Aimer couldn’t speak — she only leaned into the warmth of her embrace.

They stayed until the very end of the celebration. The audience stayed too, watching the dancers and circus performers.

Soon, they walked back together, slowly, quietly. Children from the village rushed over to touch the trophies.

Adults nodded, some waving from porches. Even the grumpy old innkeeper lifted his mug and smiled.

"The heroes return!"

"Glory to House Grimmveil!"

Their house hadn’t changed.

Wooden walls, sagging roof, a scorched porch step, and that stubborn front door that always stuck in the cold.

One of many like it in the village.

Placing the trophy on the shelf, she let out a deep, relieved sigh.

"Sis, dinner’s getting cold!"

"I’m coming!"

Aimer paused at the doorway and looked back.

"...We really did it, huh?"

Monday. Class day.

I sat alone in the music room, playing a tragic ballad on the piano. The window was open, letting in the warm breeze.

Every keystroke felt like my soul was singing in my place.

The sad melody drew Aimer in.

She stood at the doorway, waiting for me to finish. This time, she didn’t wear a ponytail. Just straight, silky hair.

Sensing her gaze, I stopped playing.

"Knew I’d find you here. The most hopeless student in the academy, famous for his piano playing."

I smirked.

"No one’s supposed to talk to the most hopeless student. You’re grinning—something good happen?"

"Just visiting a poor soul playing a tragic ballad."

She walked toward me. Her steps graceful, her eyes serene.

"Why did you leave that day without saying goodbye? I never got to thank you."

"Don’t remember asking for your thanks."

"Well I care! Atheron, are you so dense you can’t understand people’s feelings?"

"Who knows. I don’t really get human emotions."

She bonked me on the head.

"Idiot. Thank you. Really. I can’t even express how I’m grateful. You didn’t even take your trophy."

"Trophy? It’s yours."

"No, it’s ours! None of this would’ve happened without you. Why aren’t you more selfish? You used to never let anyone near you!"

I stood from the bench. She flinched slightly, realizing I towered over her.

"Not true," I replied. "We wouldn’t have won if you hadn’t come to me that day. And my family doesn’t need the trophy—so it’s yours."

"At least let it sit in your home, sparkling!"

"I don’t have a home. A house is not a home."

"Ugh. You idiot. Don’t tell me you won that trophy for me?"

She scowled, cheeks red.

"You’re such a fool, Atheron..."

Her eyes swam with confusion and emotion. She wanted to say "thank you," but was too shy.

In the end, she grabbed me by the collar and—

I felt her lips on mine.

Her warmth. Her scent. I felt her whole being.

In the drifting warmth of sunlight and the serene wind...

She kissed me.