Vol 9. Chapter 87: The Medal

Several days later, Saint Heath Academy, special prison.

Leaning on a crutch, Noa arrived in front of a certain cell together with Ael.

Inside the cell sat a disheveled figure, face full of dejection, eyes lifeless.

“Tucker…” Ael softly called his friend’s name.

Tucker slowly turned his head stiffly and looked toward the two outside the bars. When Noa saw his face clearly, she paused slightly as well.

He looked as if he had aged hundreds of years — stubble covering his face, his gaze hollow and murky.

“Tucker, are… are you alright?” Ael asked.

Tucker withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, and stared at the ground. After a long silence, he finally said in a low voice:

“Being alive already counts as good.”

His left arm severed, his magic circuits self-detonated, over a hundred years of lifespan devoured by the Magic Eye, all internal organs severely damaged — being able to survive under such circumstances was indeed fortunate.

Of course, that was only the physical aspect.

What Tucker meant by “being alive” was more that after committing an unforgivable mistake, he had not paid with his life.

“Thank you, Noa.”

Tucker’s faint voice drifted over.

Noa showed no expression and did not respond, simply waiting quietly.

“If you hadn’t saved everyone, I’d probably have already been executed.”

Even though he had thrown Saint Heath Academy into complete chaos, because Noa bore the full burden in the end, miraculously not a single student or teacher died.

Otherwise, Tucker would not even have had the chance to sit in prison.

Yet faced with his thanks, Noa remained silent. The atmosphere gradually grew heavy and oppressive.

After a moment, Ael spoke:

“Tucker, the vice principal said you’ll never be allowed out again from now on. Is that… true?”

“It’s true.”

His tone held no fluctuation. After a brief pause, he added:

“I can’t think of any way to make up for what I’ve done. So life imprisonment… is the most suitable ending for me.”

A heavy sigh came from the cell entrance. Ael frowned tightly, pressed his lips together, and said:

“I’ll come visit you often, Tucker.”

“No...”

Tucker had intended to say no.

For someone as guilty as him, dying alone in prison would have been enough.

But Ael was his only friend.

Even if he wanted to punish himself with a lifetime of loneliness, that would also be a punishment for the innocent Ael. Tucker no longer wanted anyone to suffer because of him.

So in the end, he nodded.

“Alright. Thank you, Ael.”

“Mm…”

Ael responded, then glanced at Noa beside him and said softly, “I’ll wait outside.”

Noa nodded silently.

After Ael left, Noa finally spoke slowly:

“I don’t believe everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Tucker.”

Tucker slowly turned to look at her.

“But you didn’t kill me either. I know the judgment on me — execution or life imprisonment — was actually within a single thought of yours. So… do you think I can redeem myself?”

Noa did not answer directly. She said in a low voice:

“If you hadn’t briefly broken free of the Magic Eye’s control and helped me save Ael and those students, then not only me — my family and both principals of the academy would never have let you go. Especially… my father.”

Hearing her words, Tucker lowered his eyes into silence.

“But in truth, that can’t be considered your merit. And the suffering your body endures now can’t be treated as punishment either, because all of this is...”

“...something I brought upon myself.” Tucker finished her sentence for her. “I understand. Very well.”

When considering his punishment earlier, he had only counted life imprisonment. He had not considered the wounds and pain of his body at all.

Because Tucker understood better than anyone — he deserved it.

“So in other words, you don’t actually think I deserve a chance at redemption, right? Then why didn’t you propose the death penalty?” Tucker asked.

“The Magic Eye does possess the ability to bewitch minds. That is an objective fact. The academy considered that when sentencing you,” Noa said slowly.

“And even if I don’t think someone like you deserves a chance at redemption… at the very least, you did try to make up for your mistake after committing it. So for someone like you, who strayed onto the wrong path yet didn’t repent thoroughly enough, living on forever with guilt and remorse may be the greatest punishment.”

The words struck like a sudden blade stabbing straight into Tucker’s heart.

Living on with guilt and remorse…

At that moment, countless memories flashed through his mind. He should have had limitless potential ahead, his best friend at his side, using the finest years of his life to fulfill the promise he once made to his father...

But now, all of it was gone.

What he carried on his shoulders was no longer the trust of friends or his father’s expectations, but… guilt and shame.

He had let everyone down, including those who once relied on and trusted him.

Realizing this, Tucker truly broke.

He dropped to his knees, bent forward, and burst into loud sobbing.

His crying was not regret for himself, nor sorrow for the future he lost. It was simply apology and shame toward everyone — two mountains that completely crushed him.

“If only I’d known…” was perhaps the phrase that suited Tucker best now.

Noa simply stood outside the cell, quietly watching him cry until he lost his voice. Her face still showed no expression.

A few minutes later, his already weak body grew more exhausted. He slumped in the corner, shadows covering him completely. Noa stood in the light at the cell door, silently meeting his eyes.

“You will spend the rest of your life making up for your crimes, and I…”

As she spoke, Noa slowly crouched down and extended her hand, placing a delicate small wooden box through the gap in the iron bars.

“…will never forgive you.”

After saying that, Noa stood up and left without another word, leaning on her crutch.

Tucker looked at the wooden box she left behind, slowly approached, and picked it up.

Opening it, he found a golden medal bearing the emblem of Saint Heath Academy.

“…The adult dragon division medal…”

On the back was engraved the award title:

“Rising Vanguard — Congratulations, Tucker. You are this year’s highest attendance member of the adult dragon division!”

During the past year, in order to rise as soon as possible and not disappoint his father, Tucker had almost taken missions every single day.

So the academy awarded him the “Rising Vanguard” medal representing the highest attendance.

He had not been someone with nothing.

He should have received the medal personally from Principal Wilson in front of everyone in the auditorium.

He could have broken the obsession and nightmare in his heart, proven he still had a place before Noa, and shown his late father his efforts.

He only needed to hold on for a few more hours — even a few dozen minutes — that night and not succumb to the Magic Eye’s temptation.

But in the end, he lost all of it.

Tucker clenched the medal tightly in his palm.

After all, it was now everything he had left.

XXXX

Happy New Year.

This also concludes this volume on the final day of the year. It enriched Noa’s characterization and completed Tucker’s character arc. I tried writing both endings — whether Tucker lived or was executed — and ultimately settled on this version. In my view, this truly is the most suitable ending for Tucker.

A new volume begins tomorrow. I hope for everyone’s continued support. Love you all in the new year!