Chapter 115 ~ Mooching a Meal

Being stared at by a guy nearly a head taller than him, Dylin felt utterly uncomfortable. The other guy’s expression didn’t seem particularly friendly either.

“Is there something you need?” he asked plainly. The unspoken meaning: If not, stop blocking my way.

“Oh, nothing important. Just curious to see what the Divine Child of the champion Divine Princess looks like.” The male student gave Dylin a long, meaningful look.

“You’re really Lady Teresa’s Divine Child?”

“You just asked that, didn’t you?”

“Oh, right—sorry. It’s just… hard to believe.” The student sounded apologetic, but his tone said otherwise.

Dylin could practically feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Not convincing enough for you, huh? Do you need to approve of her taste now?

“I was thinking someone worthy of being Lady Teresa’s Divine Child must be ridiculously outstanding. But you? You look like a total nobody.”

“Just look at that exhausted face—like he just woke up. We didn’t even see him in the finals, but he walks around like he’s been through hell,” another student chimed in.

More than comments, there were looks—gleeful ones, full of thinly veiled schadenfreude.

Why the joy?

Simple. Teresa’s Divine Child was just a plain-looking guy, average height, and hadn’t even shown up since the tournament’s top ten began. Clearly, he was just riding Teresa’s coattails to victory—a complete decorative accessory.

A Divine Child like that had no competitive value. Surely Lady Teresa was already tired of him and would find a better teammate once they officially enrolled.

Which meant… They had a shot.

To mooch off Teresa's success? That would save them thirty years of effort. And if one of them actually got noticed by that top-tier goddess of a woman…

More than a few students—especially male ones—were already daydreaming.

Dylin had no clue what they were fantasizing about, but even if he had, he’d have been speechless.

“Guys, that’s a bit rude.” A new voice joined in—Wenfu.

The cat-eared girl crossed her arms and glared at the tall student. “Teaming up with Lady Teresa was Dylin’s choice just as much as hers. Who are you to butt in?”

“You’ve never even met him before, so how do you know what he’s like? Let me guess—you’re just jealous he’s paired with Lady Teresa and now you’re picking a fight out of spite?”

“I—…” The guy shrank back, silenced by Wenfu’s rapid-fire sass. He couldn’t even argue—especially since it was Wenfu speaking. He muttered something unintelligible and beat a hasty retreat.

“Thanks for helping me out, Miss Cat-Ears.”

“Think nothing of it. You’re Lady Teresa’s Divine Child—it’s only right,” Wenfu said, tail swaying proudly.

“I haven’t properly introduced myself yet. I’m Wenfu Silesse, a priest-class Divine Princess. You might’ve heard of me.”

“Miss Wenfu, pleasure to meet you,” Dylin nodded politely.

“Did you come to the rest area to meet up with Lady Teresa?”

“Yeah… but I guess I was too late. She left already.” Dylin scratched his head.

“I see.” Wenfu fell silent. Truth was, she’d rushed here right after the match ended too—also hoping to find Teresa.

Of course, meeting Teresa wasn’t her only reason…

As a priest-class Divine Princess, Wenfu needed to find a reliable team—to “marry herself off,” so to speak.

She’d decided this the moment she was eliminated. But by the time the tournament ended, she’d hit a dilemma.

Sure, she was somewhat known within the school—but Teresa had just been crowned the “Queen of the Crown.” Countless elites would be vying to team up with her. Among them were plenty of excellent priest-class Divine Princesses. Wenfu’s competitive edge? Rather limited.

Like in the secret realm, Wenfu still wanted to be on Teresa’s team. But unlike back then—this time, she wanted to be part of Teresa’s official team.

That time, it had been circumstantial. This time, it was by choice.

After working with Teresa, Wenfu had come to understand—your teammate’s character mattered more than their grades.

Someone who’d stand up for you, even protect you despite being enemies, just to honor a verbal promise… That kind of teammate was priceless.

That’s why she came—to discuss post-enrollment team arrangements. But Teresa was gone.

She glanced at Dylin, hopeful… then dropped her gaze again.

No use, she thought. Even if Teresa’s a good person, she’ll probably replace Dylin after enrollment. She has to consider team composition and Divine Child utility…

“Miss Wenfu, is something the matter?” Dylin noticed her staring and looked confused.

“N-no, nothing.” Wenfu turned away, pretending to ask casually, “So… would you say you and Lady Teresa get along?”

“Pretty well, I guess.”

“Then… Now that you’ve won the Crown Tournament, what are your plans?”

“Plans?” Dylin frowned, unsure what she was getting at. “Not much, really. I plan to stay at Coleman Academy.”

It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. Call it pathetic, but now that he’d won the tournament, his future was wide open. So long as he didn’t screw up, he could coast through academy life, enjoy top-tier treatment, and even support the orphanage that helped raise him.

Besides, as a Divine Child, he wanted to go further.

A Divine Child’s power scaled with knowledge. With enough, he could unlock more abilities—not just the standard Divine Appraisal.

Even if people said he had no talent, Dylin still wanted to try.

“I see… and Lady Teresa will stay too?”

“Her? Of course. Where else would she go?”

“…Oh.” Wenfu looked disappointed again.

Sure, they got along now—but who knew what the future held?

Dylin was tired. After a brief farewell, he made his way back to the dorm, tossed his ID card and the Golden Butterfly Hairpin aside, and collapsed into bed.

Days of non-stop fighting and frequent Divine Appraisals had drained him. He was completely spent.

Within thirty seconds of touching the mattress, he was fast asleep.

***

When he woke again, the sky was dark. Groggy, Dylin yawned and fumbled for his shoes. A loud gurgle echoed in the quiet room.

…So hungry. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything decent in days—just hard dry rations and scraps.

He’d been too exhausted earlier to care. Now, with some rest in him, his hunger hit like a freight train.

I need a feast tonight. He rubbed his stomach, then checked his pouch.

…Empty.

Maybe I should transform into Teresa and eat from the Divine Princess menu? No—bad idea. That would just get him a salad. After days of surviving in the wild, going back to rabbit food was torture. He wasn’t a rabbit.

Maybe the cafeteria would be empty tonight. After all, who’d celebrate enrollment by eating in the mess hall?

What if I get someone to treat me instead?

…Problem was, who in this whole academy would treat him?

***

“…What’s wrong? Why aren’t you eating?”

A grease-smeared Dylin chomped down on a drumstick in one hand, forked food with the other, and looked across the table.

“Come on, eat! Don’t just let me dig in alone—it’s not as satisfying. Munch munch…”

“….”

“Don’t be shy! Come on, we’re celebrating! Have a drink!” He set the chicken down and raised a cup of juice.

“Ahahaha… your friend is… really bold,” said a large male student at the table, forcing a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you don’t want me to be polite. Relax—I’m not going to be polite. Hey, waiter, bring the big plates!” Dylin waved over the staff.

As he continued devouring the meal, the others at the table weren’t sure anymore—was this a team celebration or Dylin’s private banquet?

“You! Why are you acting like a statue? Eat something!”

“Eat? Did you pay for this?” grumbled John. “You didn’t even wait for an invitation. Just sat down and started stuffing your face without a word.”

“I just didn’t want to be formal between us,” Dylin said, chewing happily.

Fresh meat! A rare delicacy for someone as poor as him. He was practically in bliss.

“…Sigh.” John facepalmed.

This was supposed to be his team’s celebratory dinner. But halfway through, this freeloader showed up, pulled up a chair, ordered himself a setting, and just dug in. Didn’t even ask.

John didn’t mind too much—he knew Dylin. But the others? They thought Dylin was John’s guest and kept quiet out of courtesy.

Forget it, he thought. Not worth arguing.

John knew Dylin’s situation. One free meal wouldn’t kill them. But still…

“I mean, you won the Crown. What’re you doing here? Go find your Lady Teresa!” John jabbed.

“C’mon, man. Who do you think I’d find first after winning? My best friend, obviously. You think I’m the kind to ditch bros for babes?” Dylin shot back, grinning.

“Oh, wow. That’s so moving. Truly heartwarming—not!” John scoffed. “You shameless jerk. Won the whole damn thing and still came to mooch food?! Got no shame?!”

“Alright, fine. Spill it—how’d you get such a top-tier Divine Princess? What’s her deal? Why’d she pick you?” The question piqued everyone’s curiosity. They all leaned in.

“…You really want to know?” Dylin paused.

“No sh*t,” John snapped.

“Well… I guess I can tell you. It’s no secret. Just that… three drumsticks might not be enough to jog my memory.” Dylin looked away, fake-pensive.

“Waiter! Three more drumsticks!” John called, then gave Dylin a pointed look. “Alright, Lord Dylin, now will you talk?”

“Ahem.” Dylin finally sat up straight and began his tale.

“It’s not that complicated. But it’s a bit of a winding tale…” What followed was a completely made-up origin story: Dylin rescuing a ‘reviled ugly duckling,’ offering her hope, mutual trust blossoming between them…

In truth, it was just a remix of Astrid’s backstory, slightly dressed up.

“So you see…” Dylin raised his juice dramatically. “Fate! Fate, my friends—it works in mysterious ways.”

“In this ever-changing world, amidst the waves of popular opinion and resignation to the tide… who among us still guards that kind and sincere heart?” Dylin slipped effortlessly into Divine Child preaching mode.

“Gold may shine—but even gold can be mistaken for dust. We need eyes to see through that illusion—and hearts that never waver…”

John’s team stared, slack-jawed. They nodded and clapped without really understanding anything he’d said. On closer inspection, he hadn’t actually said anything at all—just a bunch of vague platitudes.

“…That’s really how it went?” John raised a skeptical brow.

“Would I lie?” Dylin said with mock indignation, refilling his juice.

Gotta eat back everything John freeloaded over the years, he thought. Mouth’s free to use.

“Fine, whatever. So what now? Still gonna team up with Teresa?”

“What else would I do?”

“…You kinda give off the vibe of a pretty-boy mooch,” John said bluntly.

And judging by their expressions, the rest of the Divine Princesses agreed—they just didn’t dare say it aloud.

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