Seeing Heni working so hard for him, Victor couldn't help walking toward her.
Noticing a figure approaching, Heni jerked her head up warily.
"Professor Victor?"
Once she saw who it was, she scrambled to her feet, flustered, pushing up the glasses on her nose.
For the first time in a long while, Victor allowed a crack in his usual poker face and asked quietly:
"Aren't you tired?"
He knew her work had been assigned by the academy, but her level of knowledge was easily enough for her to be hired as a new instructor at the Royal Academy of Magic.
Letting someone this capable serve as nothing more than his assistant… even if society never found out, his own conscience wasn't comfortable with it.
"Not at all!"
Heni shook her head with absolute conviction.
"Being able to prepare your lectures is an honor!"
A silly, slightly adorable little lamb.
If this had been the old Victor, he would've squeezed this soft little lamb dry until not even crumbs were left—draining out every last benefit before throwing her away.
That was who Victor used to be.
If something was useful to him, he held it tight and never let go.
Truthfully, with Vega around, he didn't need anyone preparing lecture material for him.
With no outsiders present, Victor decided to spare this foolish, earnest little lamb.
He adjusted his tone, keeping that typical cold Victor cadence as he said lightly:
"You won't need to write my speeches anymore."
Heni froze.
Her knees buckled, and she nearly lost her balance.
She thought she had made some terrible mistake—so terrible that Professor Victor wanted to dismiss her.
"Professor, I can spend more time perfecting your speeches…"
Tears welled in her eyes. Her voice trembled as she begged him not to abandon her.
"Please don't let me go. I can do my job. I can be a good assistant!"
Victor frowned slightly. He hadn't expected this reaction at all. He only wanted her to get some rest, to focus on her own independent growth at the academy.
But she—she was desperately trying to fix a mistake that didn't exist, begging for the chance to keep her job.
Like someone terrified of being fired.
Vega fluttered his wings and whispered in Victor's ear:
"What did you expect?"
"She's just a magic apprentice. She hasn't even stepped through the threshold of becoming a Mage."
Victor finally understood.
He looked at Heni with a pang of regret for her talent.
In game terms, magic apprentices were levels 1–9.
Beginners.
The Royal Academy of Magic did not support idle hands. To become an instructor, one needed to at least be a Mage.
Only then would the academy consider teaching ability.
No matter how knowledgeable Heni was—even if she was capable of preparing lessons for the most gifted class at the academy—
If she wasn't a Mage, she wasn't qualified to teach.
From her perspective, Victor understood just how cruel his words sounded.
She was only an assistant.
If even he didn't need her anymore, she had only two outcomes waiting for her:
Wait indefinitely for another professor to need an assistant.
Or leave the Royal Academy and become unemployed.
And if that happened, no one would blame the academy—they'd blame her for not being good enough.
Someone who devoted her entire life to study, yet couldn't even secure a stable place afterward.
But Victor wasn't the type to comfort people. He was an infamously petty villain.
So he only tossed out a few curt words:
"Fine. I take it back. You did well, Heni. You didn't make any mistakes."
"I'll keep using you—at least until you break."
"So until then, don't wear yourself out."
Heni brightened instantly, nodding excitedly.
"Professor! I won't let you down!"
Victor was genuinely curious why someone with her ability was willing to stay as just an assistant.
So he asked.
Heni looked taken aback—clearly not expecting Victor to ask about her past. A flash of dimness crossed her eyes, but she steadied herself and answered:
"I graduated from the Royal Academy. But I never managed to become a First-Tier Mage, even by the time I graduated… so I chose to remain at the academy as a volunteer assistant."
The rest was easy to guess.
Other professors all had their favorite assistants. Someone with knowledge but no talent like her naturally wasn't chosen.
It wasn't until the academy hired a new professor—Victor—that she finally had a chance.
After hearing her story, Victor nodded and patted her shoulder.
"Do your best. If the academy let you stay, they won't treat you unfairly."
"I just arrived. Mind showing me around?"
Heni panicked for a moment, then hurriedly agreed and started tidying the table.
"You just got here and haven't seen much… let's take this chance to walk around."
Victor said that out loud, but he knew the truth perfectly well.
He had been here countless times in the game. He even knew about the secret garden behind the dean's office.
He only said it so she wouldn't overwork herself.
Especially preparing his lectures right in front of him—it gave him a weird sense of guilt.
Work that should've been his… entirely done by someone else.
Guilt aside, though, it felt great.
Who didn't like slacking off?
Heni guided him around the academy, tirelessly introducing all the buildings.
Gardens, lawns, the training grounds.
Victor nodded along at each point, even though the place felt as familiar as his own backyard.
When they reached the Arcane Hall, he stopped.
This was where players practiced PvP and trained spell proficiency.
But right now, loud arguments echoed from inside—students quarreling.
Victor frowned, suddenly understanding why the dean used to roam the hallways cracking down on noisy classrooms.
Brats needed discipline. Magical brats even more so.
He pushed the door open.
…
Erica was in a terrible mood.
She'd wanted to teach Victor a lesson, yet she'd been the one schooled instead.
And to top it off—her beloved hair clip was gone.
A gift from her mother.
Lost because she shoved it into the gap of a teleportation array.
To get it back, Erica had come to the Arcane Hall to practice teleportation magic, hoping to undo whatever Victor had done to her array.
But she simply couldn't.
After yet another explosion of magical sigils, she clutched her golden hair in frustration.
"So annoying! Why did it fail again!?"
The more she tried, the more agitated she became.
And that agitation made her commit a grave mistake.
Mid-practice, she forgot to cancel her teleportation spell—and the portal landed right in the middle of the Arcane Hall.
A student in uniform stepped directly into it.
The array activated automatically. A strange red glow burst forth—
Whoosh—!
In a flash of blinding red light, the student vanished.
Erica saw it with her own eyes.
"Jack? Jack!?"
"Damn it—he got teleported!"
The group of students with him all turned pale.
Erica's gaze flickered with panic.
She had really messed up this time.
"No—no! He got teleported to another dimension!?"
She hurriedly wove spell after spell, trying to retrieve him.
But no matter what she did—the array did not respond.
The unfortunate boy, like her unfortunate hair clip… was gone.
The scene was eerily similar to what had happened in the lecture hall earlier.
Everyone's attention fell on Erica—the one frantically channeling magic, her panic obvious.
The teleportation array in the center was clearly built from her mana.
And just today, rumors had already spread that Erica had learned teleportation magic.
The students erupted.
"Erica du Chloe!"
"You did this! You sent Jack away!"
"You did it on purpose!"
The academy was divided into two factions: the nobles and the commoners.
The two groups never got along. In the nobles' eyes, these students who got in through exams would someday just be servants of noble families.
Arguments were constant—but because this was the Royal Academy of Magic, strength reigned supreme, and open conflict was rare.
But now?
In the eyes of the commoner students, Erica du Chloe—the noble faction's star prodigy, the duke's precious daughter—had just publicly slapped them across the face.
Noble students rarely visited the Arcane Hall. After finishing class, they usually went home to learn from private tutors.
Only commoners who depended on hard-earned scores practiced here religiously.
If they couldn't surpass nobles in wealth, then they would surpass them in magic.
But who would've thought?
Today, of all days, Erica—already in a foul mood—activated a teleport array in hopes of retrieving her hair clip…
And caused a disaster.
No one cared about the truth anymore.
The commoner students just wanted a target—a place to vent all the bitterness they'd swallowed for years.
"Erica! Apologize for what you did!"
"Apologize! And bring Jack back!"
Erica stood alone in the center, unable to defend herself, head bowed as the accusations rained down.
All she could do was desperately try to bring back the missing student.
But surrounded by shouting and chaos, her mind grew even more scrambled. She couldn't calm down at all.
Finally, she snapped back:
"I can't!"
"It was a mistake! I don't know how to bring him back!"
That only made them angrier.
"You made our friend disappear and you won't even apologize!?"
"Damn nobles. They finally show their fangs!"
"To you nobles, your lives matter—but what about ours!? What are we to you!?"
Erica bit her lip hard, saying nothing.
Her fists clenched. Frustration bubbled in her chest.
Victor. Why? WHY are you better than me?
Everything you do so easily—I should be able to do too!
She knew she shouldn't resent others, but meeting Victor had shattered her pride.
He surpassed her in knowledge, in magical talent—
A talent even her own noble family praised endlessly.
Jealousy, once planted, was nearly impossible to uproot.
"Are you all that free?"
The sudden icy voice rang out from the doorway. Sunset light spilled in, casting a bloody glow across Erica's exquisite face.
Victor leaned against the doorframe, a peculiar black crow perched on his shoulder.
Hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, his gaze was cold, aloof, and dismissive of the world.
"If you want to write reflection papers, then by all means—keep yelling in front of me."