Chapter 20: Harem Chaos and Classroom Calculations

Orphe’s Table Invasion

“Mind if I sit?”

Orphe’s words shocked me, but my response was absurdly calm.

“Oh, you’re a bit late.”
‘Expensive! So fcking expensive!’

“Someone cleared out the lamb ribs, so I waited for more.”

Orphe’s gaze shifted to Fifirel’s plate.

She covered it with her hand, scowling, as if saying don’t even think about it.

He turned back to me.

“And I wanted to chat with you all.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

So, you waited until our buffet was set to swoop in?

With main heroine Erdike temporarily on the outs, you’re targeting sub-heroines Fifirel and Monica?

Maybe even taking a swing at me or Patricia?

Terrifying! What a harem-brained maniac!

[The God of Affection says they didn’t expect that from the protagonist, but it’s impressive.]

Impressive, my ass, trampling my secret garden with army boots!

Without asking more, Orphe sat next to me.

His plate had lamb ribs, fried rice, and salad—clearly balanced for nutrition.

He scanned the table.

Everyone tensed under his gaze, falling silent.

Ugh, fck. The vibe was great until now.

[The God of Affection says they like this vibe better.]

[The God of Beauty agrees with the God of Affection.]

[The God of Jealousy senses a storm coming.]

Popcorn-munching aunties, enjoying the chaos.

“By the way,” Orphe spoke.

Everyone swallowed hard, as if on cue.

“Those vine-skeletons earlier were impressive.”

Monica’s the target!

Even noble, pretty Patricia can’t beat a core heroine.

Plus, there’s the unbridgeable midsection gap between them.

I’d pick Monica too if I were scratching a lottery ticket.

Real-world gloomy girls are a hard pass, but this is a novel, so we ignore that.

“Y-Yes? Eek, cough, cough, hack!”

Monica, quietly focused on her food, choked at Orphe’s sudden comment, coughing dryly.

After a while, her coughing stopped.

She’d gone so hard her red eyes were teary.

Orphe, watching, suddenly turned and whispered to me.

“Is she unwell?”

“Huh?!”

His voice tickled my ear, startling me.

Is he crazy?

Why’s he whispering to people?

Patricia, seeing my reaction, pointed at him, frowning.

“Hey, you! What’re you doing to Saintess Isidora?”

“Problem? Just having a private chat.”

“P-Private chat? You’re not even lovers!”

Patricia’s face turned beet red as she snapped back.

Orphe tilted his head at her reaction.

“Private chats aren’t just for lovers. As a noble, you’ve seen plenty at salons or balls.”

“Is this a salon?! I knew you were suspicious sitting next to her. Do you like Saintess Isidora or something?”

Bold statement.

But his reply was even wilder.

“If I do, is that a problem?”

“What?!”

“Huh?!”

“Y-Yes?!”
‘What did you say?!’

[The God of Beauty wants to scream with joy.]

Everyone at the table yelped in shock.

The whole cafeteria’s eyes turned to us.

I pretended to eat my nearly finished meal until the stares faded.

Thump thump.

My heart wouldn’t stop pounding from his sudden words.

“If love’s what the saintess wants, I’m confident I can give it.”

“W-What shameless…!”

Patricia, now practically a radish, blushed furiously.

Orphe responded calmly.

“I don’t have the luxury to pick and choose. To end my fate quickly, I’ll use any means necessary.”

“You lowborn! Typical crude kingdom talk!”

“If striving for what I want is crude, I’ll be as crude as needed.”

My first confession, and it’s from a guy?

But listening closely, it sounded more like a strong recruitment pitch.

In games like Football Manager, I’d sweet-talk and throw in clauses to snag a player.

Orphe’s words were just lip service, not a real confession.

Yeah.

That thought calmed me down.

“Even so, whispering to someone you just met is rude, no?”

“Just met? The saintess and I spent a night together.”

“What?!”

Fck!

This guy’s pure evil.

Saying it like that guarantees misunderstandings.

Patricia and Monica’s faces turned red, ready to burst.

Fifirel, ignoring Orphe since the start to focus on her ribs, was unfazed.

Monica, voice trembling, asked Orphe.

“S-Spent a night… you mean, like, meeting and staying at the same lodging?”

“Well, we shared a room.”

“What?!”

Out!

Out, you crazy bastard!

Who’d punish you for not speaking so vaguely?

Harem protagonists always talk like this—skipping subjects, omitting context, twisting words to confuse people.

To quell their growing shock, I quickly cut Orphe off.

“Before coming to the academy, we stayed at the Temple of Dreams for a night due to lodging issues. Nothing happened.”
‘Crazy bastard, die alone if you want. Don’t drag me into it.’

Finally earning my keep?

“Oh, I see. That’s it? You have a way of talking weirdly.”

“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Patricia, calming down, glared at Orphe again.

He shrugged and started eating.

One guy ruined our table’s cheerful vibe.

Yet the culprit ate happily, unbothered.

We stared blankly until he finished at lightning speed.

Eating that fast’ll give you indigestion.

“Sorry for barging in. See you later.”

Yeah, real fcking rude.

After Orphe left like the wind, we resumed eating.

The mood was still a mess.

Orphe’s Calculations

Phew…

Lunchtime scouting was a success.

Even I think my approach was smooth.

Rarely do you get to talk to so many future powerhouses at once.

We didn’t chat much, but just getting familiar is progress.

‘Monica Caliga was a surprise.’

In the first loop, Monica was a student council loyalist, resisting me to the end as a mage.

Her incomprehensible runic chants and unique magic style gave me so much trouble.

Her trademark vine-skeleton army caused serious damage.

Seeing a glimpse of it in today’s sparring brought back memories of ambushing the student council.

‘In the end, I burned the whole council building to suppress them, didn’t I?’

But meeting her now, the charismatic empress is gone, replaced by some awkward dork.

I don’t know what changed her, but this Monica’s easier to handle.

Maybe I should approach her sooner.

The others were notable too.

Patricia, the empire’s vanguard captain, Fifirel, who helped me a lot in the first loop, and the new variable, Saintess Isidora, the key to this loop’s outcome.

The academy’s fate might hinge on her.

I sided with her over my childhood friend to build favor.

Steadily gaining her trust and bonding…

“Alright, Cadet Orphe.”

“Hm.”

The magic theory instructor’s glare stings.

He’s one of the empire’s lackeys, I recall.

In the first loop, during the academy’s civil war, I fought him.

A mage foolishly loitering on the battlefield, cut down in one swing.

“Ahem, as I said, spells are essential to magic. The language used shapes the magic’s nature. What are the main languages used in magic?”

Boring.

Even without the first loop, this is basic.

Chronologically: ancient tongue, runes, magic circles.

Focusing on language to downplay magic circles—essential in modern magic—is a cheap trick.

No reason to fall for it, so I said confidently,

“Don’t know.”

“Hm, missing magic circl— What?”

“I don’t know.”

No need to answer even if I know.

Planting a fake weakness by seeming ignorant of magic is a strategy.

A lucky idiot who pulled a holy sword and swings it hard—that’s the image I want.

The more people misjudge me, the more strategic options I have.

No reason not to use it.

“Well, you need more magic studies.”

The instructor’s uneasy reaction—exactly what I wanted.

As I finished, the saintess, glancing back, gave me a pitying smile.

Even her flower-filled head must understand my position.

In this empire-leaning academy, she knows how hard I’m struggling.

She must’ve faced plenty of politics surviving the Pantheon.

I nodded back, returning her smile.

Isidora’s Disbelief

“Mastering academics is no easy feat…”
‘Idiot.’

A second-looper getting it wrong.

I muttered under my breath, too quiet for anyone to hear.