Chapter 122: Bow Down and Apologize—You Noble!

Translation by: Weebsread👹

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“Did the pressure finally get to you? Have you lost your mind?”

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Nerinette’s face burned with indignation, her manners thoroughly abandoned. Standing at the entrance, Wilma looked her over with an unsettling mixture of pity and disbelief.

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They’d known each other since school—not friends, never could be, but rivals in every sense. The phrase “old adversaries” came to mind, with all the little competitions, scathing remarks, and silent stand-offs that entailed.

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But to think…the strain of the Holy See’s supply order had driven Nerinette to this point?

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A flicker of sympathy glimmered in Wilma’s eyes. “It’s alright, Nerinette. In a moment, just get down on your knees and apologize. That’ll be enough.”

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“‘Senior, I’m sorry’—even if you can only manage it in your heart, I’ll accept it.”

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Wilma’s tone oozed condescending pity, as if she’d already decided Nerinette’s judgment had snapped.

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As if anyone alive could possibly brew so many potions in so little time.

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No rational excuse, no clever workaround—it was flatly impossible.

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To be honest, Wilma hadn’t come to conduct any true inspection. She was just here to check on progress, perhaps pile on a bit more pressure. With luck, she’d crush Nerinette’s resolve and wreck her chances all at once.

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She never expected her rival to break down ahead of schedule.

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Ah, poor little Nerinette. For a moment, I almost feel sorry for you.

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“What nonsense are you spouting now?” Nerinette shot her a cold, searing glare, recovering in an instant. Then, without another word, she grabbed Wilma by the arm and strode straight toward the warehouse.

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Wilma’s gaze caught on the rows of cabinets—overflowing with an almost unimaginable array of amplification potions—and she stopped dead, instantly forgetting the smug expression she’d rehearsed for watching Nerinette kneel.

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Bottles and vials glittered in a dazzling spectrum, the entire collection slowly revealed before them. What had been a spacious alchemy office now seemed impossibly cramped, crowded with radiant glass and glimmering liquid.

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“This…”

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Wilma was utterly speechless—and she wasn’t alone. The other alchemists of the Imperial Magic Academy gaped in stunned silence, jaws slack.

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Lined up in neat formation, those amplification potions seemed to blaze with holy brilliance, like silent heralds triumphantly declaring victory.

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“Now do you understand, Wilma?” Nerinette’s voice was crisp, ringing with satisfaction. “The Church’s order is already complete and will reach the frontlines ahead of schedule.”

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She gestured elegantly to the mountain of potions. “You always like to run your mouth. Why don’t you check for yourself if these are real?”

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To be honest, catching Wilma so off guard was even more satisfying than Nerinette had expected.

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Inside, she purred with triumph—never mind that she herself had nearly jumped out of her skin when she first saw the trove of potions. But seeing it now, through Wilma’s eyes, made everything feel different.

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“This… This can’t be true,” Wilma stammered, composure unraveling as harsh reality set in. “How did you do this?”

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“It’s a trick, isn’t it? Did you have the Church drag back the potions we already delivered just to show them off again?”

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“There’s no way you brewed all these in just one night. Impossible!”

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Suddenly snapping out of her shock, Wilma fixed Nerinette with a venomous glare, eyes alight with suspicion and indignation.

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No one knew the Institute’s true deficit better than Wilma herself. Even disregarding other factions, just the current order from the Church was at least eight thousand short, wasn’t it?

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How can you tell me the entire gap was filled overnight?

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Potions don’t just appear—you have to craft, bottle, and test them, batch after painstaking batch. Even if you tried to cheat, you couldn’t amass so many so quickly.

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“The Imperial Academy of Magic isn’t that powerful. Do you think the Holy See would help out simply because we asked?”

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“A loss is a loss, Vilma. If you want to squirm out of a bet, just say so. Don't think I don’t know your ways.”

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Honestly, being able to needle her like this was exhilarating.

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Meeting her former senior’s disbelieving gaze, Nerinette stood with arms folded, barely masking her satisfaction.

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“But since you did take care of me before, I’ll let you off with just a single kowtow. Take it as letting you keep some dignity.”

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“What’s wrong, Vilma? Are you about to renege on your bet?”

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Nerinette could be abrasive—downright caustic at times—but unless she was absolutely, unshakably certain, she’d never boast like this.

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Had they really managed to close the order in just one night?

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The holy glow of the potions was unmistakable, radiating with a purity that ordinary brews lacked. These weren’t scrounged from some secret Church cache—they were freshly made, without a doubt.

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If anything, that made it harder to believe.

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How could they possibly produce such a quantity, so quickly? Even bottomless coffers couldn’t buy time, nor bend the craft’s limitations.

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Wait… could it be that Lin Wei—

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As the thought hit, Wilma’s head snapped up, locking on Lin Wei lounging at the side, watching the scuffle with a lazy smile.

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There was a glint in his eyes now—sharp, knowing.

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“You! What kind of trickery did you use to make this happen?”

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“There’s no way you did this by the book. It’s absolutely impossible!”

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“A loss is a loss. Getting so worked up is undignified—such is the way of nobles, I suppose?”

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Realizing the focus had shifted to him, Lin Wei—who’d been quietly enjoying the spectacle, chin in hand—met their gaze with calm, unhurried ease.

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He had never taken the wager seriously.

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“How it was done isn’t the point. The only question is if the wager’s settled.”

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“So—are you going to bow your head and admit defeat, or does Miss Vilma plan to renege? Typical noble behavior, I suppose—never honoring a promise.”

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Every word was a barbed jab at noble pride. But in this moment, no one could refute him.

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Rage and frustration trembled on everyone’s faces, but it was useless. Lin Wei’s tongue was as unassailable as his results.

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“You…” Wilma hissed. “Fine. Lin Wei, I’ll remember this.”

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Now wasn’t the moment for pointless arguments. The potions existed—clear as day—and lingering any longer would only give him chances to further mock her.

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As for how Lin Wei pulled this off, she had not the faintest clue.

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She would have to launch a thorough investigation—if there were any flaws or weak links, she would return and settle the score.

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“You win this round. We're leaving.”

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Trying—and failing—to contain her anger, Wilma shot Lin Wei a venomous glare.

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At his wave, the crowd began to file out, relieved.

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“Not so fast. It’s time to pay your debt.”

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But Lin Wei had no intention of letting Wilma slink away quietly.

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She’d brazenly tried to snatch a contract from right under the Academy’s nose. No one would believe she hadn't acted under Duke Ous’s orders.

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Without a hint of hesitation, Lin Wei crooked a single finger in her direction.

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Before anyone could react—

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Just as Wilma reached the doorway, her body jerked off the ground, as if seized by an invisible force, and drifted backwards into the room.

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It was a deft, elegant application of magical manipulation—pale golden light enveloped her form, lifting her back to the center of the hall.

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She kicked, thrashed, fought with every ounce of strength—but it was hopeless. In the span of a heartbeat, she was hauled before Lin Wei.

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“Y-you—what do you think you’re doing?!”

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Wilma’s voice trembled, blindsided by such brazen defiance.

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She mustered her own power, but it was hopelessly suppressed—not even a finger could twitch.

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Desperation blazed in her eyes; humiliation, outrage, and fear rose in waves.

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“Do you understand who I am? I’m a noble! Attacking a noble is a capital crime for a commoner!”

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“You dare lay hands on me, you wretch! Let me go now!”

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“Lin Wei, that’s enough! She’s already learned her lesson. I never really expected her to kneel for me.”

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Standing anxiously beside him, Nerinette frowned, casting an uneasy glance around the crowded room.

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Her relationship with Wilma had always been a mess, but the girl was—after all—a bona fide noble.

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And as a commoner still in the probationary period for my registration, I’d be courting disaster if I got singled out by a noble family over this.

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It wasn’t worth dragging her into deeper trouble, just to vent a little personal anger.

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“If you’re worried I’ll offend the nobility, Director Nerinette, there’s no need.” Lin Wei’s tone turned light, almost playful.

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From her tone, he instantly sensed the shift in her mood. Smirking, he waved off her concern, indifferent as ever.

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With a flick of his fingers, the magic supporting Wilma vanished.

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“Aaagh!”

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She toppled to her knees at the center of the crowd—striking the ground with a force that left no doubt of her humbled state.

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*Smack.*

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The sound was crisp, clear as a bell. In front of everyone, Wilma fulfilled the wager—kowtowing, if only in body, while rage and shame waged war on her face.

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Lin Wei released his spell and offered the crowd a wry, off-hand sigh. “Nobles, huh… As if I haven’t already offended enough of them.”

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After all, even Duke Ous himself had tasted his ridicule—a mere Wilma was hardly worth noting.

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Still—how are things going with Veya?

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“She should have received my letter by now, right?”

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As Wilma stood shakily, her face a fierce, mottled red, Lin Wei’s mind was already drifting elsewhere.

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Tonight, he thought, would be the true test—would the traitor at last be flushed out?