Rotsard didn't spend as much time relaxing in a bath as he wanted.
As it turned out, his body temperature was so low that hot water would turn into ice upon coming in contact with him.
Still, since sometimes stuff like that did happen to those training in the cold room, there was something that could be done…
…that is adding salt to already cold water, which greatly lowered its freezing point, so at least Rotsard could submerge himself after washing up without having to break out of a bathtub-shaped block of ice.
It wasn't nearly as pleasant as a warm bath, though... so taking his time lost its meaning.
He used the remaining time to catch up to his studies, but it was enough for him to sit by his desk filled with notebooks filled with meticulously filled notes to realize something.
He…
Hasn't studied while isolating in the cold room.
Not for a day.
Not for an hour.
Not even for a single second.
He already knew he was supposed to show miserable results. That's how the story was supposed to go, but…!
…but this time it wasn't Rotsard's aim, and it did start bothering him…
A lot.
If he was going to lose, it had to be on his own volition and not because that peasant was actually better!
"...!"
Rotsard gulped down his saliva and began frantically reading through every notebook he could get his hands on…!
"..."
Only to flinch and straighten his back with a hesitant expression.
Actually… wouldn't it be better to completely flunk it…?
A thought suddenly appeared in Rotsard's mind.
At the moment, no matter how bad of a result a student would get on their evaluation, there were no consequences.
It was just assumed that their status and honor as nobility would push the students to do their best and achieve the best possible results. There simply was no reason for the Royal Academy to come up with penalties.
…but then…
Why, in the deofol's story, Rotsard so vividly remembered, his cousin would be stressed out to the point of asking her enemy to get tutored on her weakest subject…
The more Rotsard pondered about it, the more he realized that in the story, the end-of-term evaluation would be used only in the first volume, and only at the end of the first term.
Afterwards, it would be changed to exams, and there would be a certain number of points a student would have to accumulate in order to pass it and move on to a higher grade.
The more Rotsard thought about the reason for such change, the more he was certain that he must end up involved.
After all, the faculty members of the Academy were creating new rules, actively trying to get a valid excuse to expel him…
Was it so hard to believe that after seeing absolutely terrible results of Rotsard's end-of-term evaluation, those people would change the current system of education and implement one that would let them get rid of him without giving his family any excuse to hold them responsible…?
That's right…!
It made perfect sense!
And that's why, getting terrible results wouldn't be Rotsard's failure… It would be a part of his plan!
More than that, even!
It would be his duty to fail as miserably as possible, so that end-of-the-year exams would be established, and so that next year, his genius of a cousin would face hardship for the first time in her life!
"Whew~!"
Finding such a perfect excuse for himself, Rotsard breathed out a sigh of relief, closed the notebook and pushed it aside, before leaning into his chair.
If he was going to get a bad evaluation, he would aim for the worst possible one!
Even if he knows the answer, or if he would be able to deduce it from the context, he would write down the wrong one!
"Hm! Hm!"
The bleached-blond-haired boy nodded to himself, unknowingly letting out self-reassuring noises.
—--
It was already the last day of the evaluation week, and Rotsard entered the cafeteria, as had become his habit.
"WHY ARE YOU HERE AGAIN!?"
"..."
…and as it also became a habit already, he ignored the furious screech of the kitchen helper boy who ran up to him and went ballistic the moment he spotted his bleached hair.
"YOU SPECIFICALLY SAID THAT YOU WILL NOT COME HERE UNLESS YOU CAN'T HELP IT, DIDN'T YOU?!"
The kitchen helper boy was shouting at Rotsard, but didn't try anything else, keeping himself beyond the reach of the skinny student.
"I did."
"THEN WHY ARE YOU COMING HERE, EVERY, SINGLE, DAY!?"
Rotsard walked up to his spot and answered casually, causing the younger boy to scream in agitation, accentuating every word by the end by slamming his fist against his leg.
"Clearly, I can't help it."
"...!"
Rotsard shrugged his shoulders and sat down, making the kitchen helper boy freeze up, too angry to come up with a response to such blatant mockery.
"Today I'm feeling like eating a roast… Do you have any venison on hand? Like a boar… or maybe deer…?"
The bleached-blond-haired boy hummed, wondering, before asking the kitchen helper boy, since he was on hand anyway.
"Wh-why would you want to eat a deer?! Eat a salad for once, you carnivore!"
The youngster flinched and backed off, crying out in a high-pitched, panic-struck voice and shivering.
"Hmm… yes… I definitely crave some deer. I'd like a full roast, but I'm fine with just ribs. The fresher the better."
Rotsard stared at the boy with his beastly yellow eyes, and spoke slowly, while leaning towards the youngster, messing with him on purpose to a degree, but accidentally imitating a beast of prey preparing to pounce at its target.
"!!!"
The kitchen helper boy turned pale, and he jumped back, crossing his arms and clutching his sides fearfully.
"Go on, pass my order to the kitchen staff. You don't want to cause them trouble, do you?"
"..."
Rotsard straightened his back only to lean into his chair, benevolently waved his hand at the upset boy, and went back to ignoring him.
Just as it would always play out, no matter how angry and upset the kitchen helper boy was, he would always end up carrying out Rotsard's order and even bring the ready meal to him.
He wasn't happy about it, far from it, but he would always carry out that duty nonetheless.
As for the reason Rotsard was coming back so diligently, it was to slowly stir the pot so that messing with Justin would seem organic and well telegraphed.
The problem was, though, that the future hero wasn't showing up in the cafeteria at all…
Truth be told, that only meant that if he wouldn't show up on his own, Rotsard simply had to seek him out.
For the first year, the last day of evaluation was one with the magic evaluation in the morning and a physical fitness evaluation in the afternoon, so unless Amelia Edemsworth got some specially prepared beneficial dish for the object of her carefully curated affection, the cafeteria was the right place to stake out for Justin.
And indeed, while Rotsard was waiting for his meal, the peasant student entered the area looking around cautiously…
"...!"
"Oh?"
And almost immediately spotted Rotsard, but the moment their eyes met, Justin flinched and looked away while his face turned bright red.