The Nameless Extra: I Proofread This World

Chapter 320: What Are You Apologizing For?

Ruvian stared at the two dots for another second. He had no idea why [Bookmarks] was showing two different locations for the same person.

Perhaps one was the real Julian, while the other was his memory counterpart.

’Whatever, I’ll just go to the closest one first.’

The marker was somewhere deeper inside the estate, not too far from where he was standing.

Without wasting another second, Ruvian broke into a run.

*****

Ruvian hurried up a short flight of stairs, crossed another hallway, then turned into a much quieter wing of the estate.

Compared to the busy corridors behind him, this place felt almost deserted.

’Almost there.’

He slowed his pace as the marker suddenly stopped moving. According to [Bookmarks], Julian should be somewhere inside the room in front of him.

Ruvian approached the slightly opened door, keeping his eyes fixed on the marker. With a careful push, he eased the door wider.

Upon entering, Ruvian found himself inside what looked like a private training chamber built specifically for a child. A wooden training dummy stood in the center, its height adjusted to match someone around Julian’s age.

Ruvian’s gaze moved around the room.

A number of shelves rested against the walls, containing beginner spell books, bottles of water, spare training clothes, and various tools used for mana control practice.

All of those items looked incredibly opulent and exquisitely crafted, something only to be expected from a Great Noble House.

However, as Ruvian looked closer, he noticed that the room itself was in complete disarray, bearing clear signs of being used relentlessly for practice.

His eyes settled on the wooden dummy. Cuts and deep dents scarred nearly every part of it. Then, his gaze dropped toward the practice swords nearby. Several were cracked along the edges, while others had snapped completely, their splintered remains discarded beside the wall.

Curious, Ruvian walked over and picked up one of the wooden swords.

The handle felt unusually smooth beneath his fingers, worn down from being gripped again and again, while several dark red stains had already dried near the bottom.

His eyes lingered on them for a moment.

’Curator did say that Julian was one of the hardest-working characters in the novel... So, I can’t exactly say this surprises me.’

He placed the sword back down and looked toward the other side of the room.

Many of the mana targets were stained with dark burn marks. Beside them were stacks of paper filled with magic notes written in a rough, messy handwriting.

Hik...

Then he heard something.

Hik...

It was faint, nearly swallowed by the silence of the room, a small, broken breath coming from somewhere deeper inside. For a moment, Ruvian wondered if he had imagined it, but then the sound came again.

His gaze moved past the training dummy and toward the far corner, where a wooden weapon rack stood against the wall.

The sound had come from somewhere behind it.

Slowly, Ruvian walked closer.

The moment he stepped past the rack, his footsteps came to an abrupt stop.

Julian was there.

The boy had curled himself tightly into the corner, both knees pulled against his chest. His face was buried between them, while his small arms remained wrapped firmly around his legs.

His shoulders trembled.

"Stop... just stop crying, damn it."

He quickly rubbed his face against his sleeve, trying to wipe away the tears before more could fall.

"Why... why is it never enough? I train every day, I... I do everything they tell me... but why does nothing ever change? Why am I still so weak?"

His shoulders began trembling even harder.

"Why does everyone else get better so easily?"

He pressed his forehead against his knees, his voice slowly breaking.

"That damn Alexius gets praised every time, and the others keep improving too... but whenever it’s my turn, everyone just looks disappointed."

Another tear slipped down his cheek.

"I’m trying too..."

"I’m really trying..."

"But why can’t anyone see that?"

For several seconds, only his quiet sobs filled the room.

Ruvian remained standing behind the weapon rack, his expression slowly darkening. Hearing those words, something about the scene in front of him began to feel painfully familiar.

People rarely cared about how far someone had climbed. They only cared about where that person stood in the end.

After all, in a world governed by merit, results were everything, while effort only seemed to matter once it became something worth praising.

Ruvian lowered his eyes toward Julian again.

However, that did not mean no one would ever notice.

There were always a few people who would look beyond the final result, usually because they had been close enough to witness everything that came before it.

The small improvements, the silent struggles, the effort everyone else had overlooked. And more often than not, those were the people who cared the most.

Just then, a soft knock came from the training room door. Before Ruvian could react, the door slowly pushed open a second later.

A woman’s voice soon followed from the hallway.

"Julian? Are you here?"

Her voice was calm, though Julian could clearly hear the concern beneath it. His shoulders stiffened slightly. It was nothing like the cold, judging voices he had heard back in the courtyard.

Moments later, the woman stepped into the room. She carefully closed the door behind her before turning her attention toward the training chamber.

Ruvian slowly turned around.

The moment his gaze settled on her face, he recognized her almost immediately. Pale skin, long brown hair, and the same gentle features he had seen only a short while ago — she was the very woman he had seen inside the enormous crystal before entering this memory.

Julian’s mother, Marielle Rozenberg.

The woman took a few steps deeper into the training room before suddenly bringing one hand to her mouth.

A soft cough escaped her, followed by another, but she quickly lowered her hand and continued forward.

"It’s me, Julian, just me..."

Her eyes slowly searched the room until they settled near the far corner. The concern in them became more apparent, though her voice remained soft and composed.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

Julian did not answer, holding his breath as tightly as he could, afraid that even the faintest sound would betray where he was hiding.

He did not want his mother to see him like this, crying and miserable.

More than anything, he did not want to see disappointment on her face too. He had already seen enough of that look today, from the elders, the tutors, and even his own father.

If his mother looked at him the same way, Julian did not know if he could bear it.

"Julian... I know you are here, so there is no need to hide from me," she paused as another cough left her lips. "Would you at least allow your mother to see her son?"

She took another slow step forward.

"You know I have been unwell lately, yet I still came all the way here to find you. Surely, my dear Julian would not let his mother’s effort go to waste, would he?"

Hearing those words, Julian’s eyes widened slightly. In his panic, he had almost forgotten that his mother was still sick.

His head slowly lifted from his knees.

’Mother...’

Julian quickly rubbed both eyes with his sleeves. He took a small breath, then slowly pushed himself to his feet.

The moment he stepped out from behind the weapon rack, his body flinched. His mother was already looking directly at him, meaning she had known where he was hiding from the very beginning.

Her crimson eyes were as soft as ever. Even after seeing his swollen eyes, messy hair, and the rather terrible state of his face, the small smile on her lips did not change at all.

Somehow, that made Julian’s chest tighten even more.

Quickly, he bit his lip and looked away. He had spent the last few moments trying so hard to stop crying, and now he suddenly felt like he might start all over again.

He stopped a few steps away and stared stubbornly at the floor instead.

"Why are you here, Mother?" Julian asked quietly, trying his best to make his voice sound normal. "You... you are supposed to be resting."

His mother’s smile widened just a little.

"Rest? Sweetheart... how could a mother rest after seeing her child like this?"

Marielle said as she lowered herself in front of him, her fingers brushing tenderly through his white hair. Then, with her other hand, she gently wiped away the tears still clinging to his cheeks.

It was only then that Julian realized his mother must have watched the evaluation from her room. His fingers curled behind his back as a faint look of guilt settled across his face.

"I’m sorry, Mother."

Carefully, Marielle slipped her fingers beneath his chin and lifted his face toward hers.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips.