Chapter 57. Not an Insult, But
Guiding Ivelin.
The outcome looks simple enough, but the effort I put into it was far from small.
'Yeah. I worked hard.'
How many times did I conduct covert operations?
Not only did I go out to find the list, I also recorded every single meetup between Dibay and the buyers on a video record modification orb.
The reason I could confirm the allegations in just one day was precisely thanks to this relentless effort of mine!
Of course, when I delivered it to Assistant Professor Yorby, I edited out every bit of footage involving Ivelin.
No—"edited" isn't even the right word.
Just in case, I'd recorded everything separately on other record modification orbs.
Anyway, the week after that flew by like an arrow.
The professors slowed the pace of lessons for academy students exhausted by exams, and the academy students also relaxed and lived their everyday lives.
And so the weekend arrived.
"Friend!"
"Aster."
Sitting on a sofa in the dormitory lobby, I stood up when I saw two boys coming down the stairs.
It was Demian and Chenbi.
"You're here? Let's go. I already got the outing permit."
"Let's go out!"
I walked out of the academy with the two of them.
The reason we gathered on the weekend was… well, we're together most of the time anyway, but today's reason was a bit special.
And what was it?
To announce its success and receive our reward!
"Chenbi, you look pretty happy?"
"H-ha ha! I was always happy though?"
"Hm."
I looked at Chenbi, whose face looked unusually clear, then snorted and let out a laugh.
Chenbi, maybe embarrassed, scratched his head.
He knew it too.
How bad his face had been during the exam period.
'By the end, I almost thought he wasn't even human.'
Dark circles that had sunk down under his eyes.
After the Hall of Trials ended, Chenbi had put on a little weight thanks to elixirs he'd received from friends, but in just one month he'd been cut down to half.
Purion was the same, of course.
No—Purion, who had less tolerance for Demian comparatively, had it even worse.
But, really.
People are strange.
'He definitely looked like a wreck until yesterday....'
And yet he recovered like that in just one day.
'Well, he did pour that much mental effort into it.'
Even after the exams ended, his expression wouldn't loosen.
At a glance, the two looked like they cared more about Demian's grades than their own.
In reality, it seemed like they really did care more about Demian's grades.
Hey! The rankings are posted on the board!
Just yesterday after class.
The rankings for this exam were posted in the lobby of the classroom building.
Chenbi and Purion jumped up faster than anyone and hurried over, scanning the results.
Not their own...
'Demian's.'
While Demian himself was bouncing around innocently in the back, those two—how their eyes burned.
But then.
A, aaaaah...! T-this can't be?!
The two of them screamed.
That's right.
Demian's rank as first posted was...
<18. Demian von Brando>
18th.
Not 17th, not 19th—exactly 18th.
What must they have felt in that moment?
'I don't know.'
But one thing was certain: their screams pressed down low over the entrance lobby, so intense that even the academy students gathered to check their own results were left dumbfounded.
But there was a twist.
Hey! That's not it! Look up there! Deminen's there!
Was it a system error?
A misprinted score sheet.
The expelled students should've been removed before the rankings were recorded, but they weren't.
When the administrator came and replaced the ranking sheet, the result was...
<16. Demian>
Exactly 16th—our target.
And after that, it goes without saying that Chenbi and Purion's roars shook the entrance hall, booming loud and clear.
No—did they only roar?
I thought they were some kind of triumphant general.
So proud, so dignified.
Of course, it wasn't only good effects.
"Aster."
"Yeah."
"Maybe I've got a knack for teaching? After I graduate the academy, if I go through the Advanced Division, should I aim to become an assistant professor?"
"Shut up."
Ah.
My inner thoughts slipped out.
"…?"
Seeing Chenbi looking at me with a bewildered face, I put on a friendly smile and told him.
"You know an assistant was involved this time too, right?"
"…I do, yeah."
"Do you know why that assistant did it? Because he had no money. No money. With no money, he went and sold off academy exam papers wholesale."
"…Ah."
Chenbi's face stiffened for some reason.
I pressed the advantage.
"Chenbi, look. How long do you think it takes for an assistant to be appointed as an assistant professor?"
"Umm... I heard three to four years."
At the naive question, I frowned.
"Who told you that?"
"...Professor Parun."
"How long do you know it took that man?"
"I heard… one year?"
I let out a deep sigh at Chenbi's answer.
Then I pointed a long finger at the citizens of Hazen walking along the road.
"See them?"
"What?"
"People."
"Yeah, I mean, I do?"
"That's you."
"…?"
Chenbi tilted his head, not understanding what I meant.
"Those ordinary people over there—that's you. Then what do you think Professor Parun is?"
"Mm... I don't know."
I didn't hesitate. I pointed at the sky.
"See it?"
"It's dazzling."
"Yeah. That's the difference between Professor Parun and you."
"…Ah."
It might sound cruel, but the talent gap between Professor Parun and Chenbi is—if you exaggerate a little—the difference between heaven and earth.
If Chenbi is an ordinary person scattered all over the road, then Professor Parun is like the sun hanging in the sky.
Sure, the exaggeration is a bit strong, but the overall feel isn't far off.
"Hey, where are you going now?"
"...Macarons."
I grabbed Demian by the back of the neck as he tried to stray off and started walking again.
Anyway.
"From up there, looking down, would there be any difference between that tall ahjussi over there and Demian?"
"There wouldn't be, right?"
"Exactly. That's why Professor Parun said three to four years. He wasn't speaking by the standard of ordinary people in the first place."
Honestly, even taking three to four years is impressive talent.
But to a genius of magic studies, whether someone's gifted or average, it all looks equally uncivilized.
So that's probably why he said it.
"But still, the professor must've taught many students... Some of them probably became assistant professors too. Maybe he said it based on seeing that?"
You really don't know anything.
"That guy doesn't care about what's around him."
He only looks at research.
Ah—if there's one thing he doesn't completely neglect, it's probably the responsibility he's given as a professor.
The attitude of an educator, I guess.
"Then... he can't be an educator."
Seeing Chenbi look dejected, I shook my head.
"Do you really want to teach someone that badly?"
"...It sounds like it would be fulfilling."
"Then there's a way."
I lifted my gaze and took in Hazen's street signs.
And was the timing of my words and actions perfect? Chenbi followed my gaze like, "Where?"
"...Not there. That's District C-23. We need to go one more block."
"Ah, okay."
I adjusted our direction again and continued.
"How you can take disciples."
"Yeah."
"Become an incredible mage—like, a Great Mage."
"...."
"Think about it. What are all the Great Mages active right now like? They're all either from prestigious families, or old war mages, right?"
Chenbi nodded.
"But if you become a Great Mage, boldly and unmistakably—do you think there'll be people who want to learn from you, or not?"
"...There would be?"
"They'd line up. Right?"
"...I guess so?"
He didn't really get it, but Chenbi nodded anyway.
Watching him, I spoke calmly.
"If you want disciples, become a Great Mage. And teach them harshly like you taught Demian—those fools... no, teach them harshly like you taught Demian. With someone who has no talent."
Maybe even that alone would feel pretty fulfilling?
That was my thought.
Of course, naturally...
'That's only if Chenbi can become a Great Mage.'
But I think—
'The bigger your dream, the better.'
Even if it looks impossible right now, if you don't give up and keep running, you can at least reach somewhere near it.
And if a miracle happens...
'You might even climb up like Dahlia did.'
I imagined it.
If Chenbi became a Great Mage. And even then, if his personality stayed the same as now...
It's a "what if," a future that may or may not ever happen.
But if it could, a thought came to me.
'Heh, heh-heh.'
Just how big would the gratitude of a Great Mage repaying a life debt be?
'You want to become an assistant professor?'
No, you idiot.
You should be thinking about becoming a goose that lays golden eggs—how could you rot away at the academy?!
Over my dead body.
Anyway.
"We're here."
I stopped in front of a fairly grand restaurant.
This was the place where Ransi—the blunt, tactless servant—invited us.
'Honestly....'
How did she even find out that Demian ranked exactly 16th?
The moment the rankings were posted, she sent word to the academy.
Saying she'd treat us to a meal and wanted to discuss our reward.
Maybe there was some kind of contact in Brando who passed along the news... No, "contact" isn't quite the right word.
Anyway, it seemed like there was someone they kept a good relationship with.
"Alright. Let's go."
"Uh, o-okay."
Chenbi nodded, looking somewhat intimidated.
And Demian was still...
"...Macarons."
With the back of his neck held, he was staring toward the macaron shop we'd passed earlier.
Seeing this, a thought suddenly popped into my head.
'Chenbi, maybe your aptitude really was as an educator.'
Because improving Demian's grades like this was something you could brag about anywhere.
Meanwhile, at that same time.
A nameless bar in the back alleys of Hazen.
"Uwahaha! Drink, drink!"
"What are you doing, you bastard! You have to down it in one go!"
Even in broad daylight, the place was packed with drunks—and a man in a black robe sat among them.
With his face completely hidden in shadow, he sipped cheap beer.
And then, at that moment, the door opened.
Creeeak.
As the sound of old hinges rang out,
in an instant, a chilling presence spread through the bar.
That was also when the drunks, who had been making a ruckus, fell quiet.
"..."
"..."
The drunks turned their heads without even standing up.
Their eyes were already a complete mess—no trace of reason left in them—but the moment they saw the man who entered, instinct beyond reason buzzed through them.
How should you put it?
Dangerous.
It felt like seeing something that wasn't human, even though it wore a human shape.
At a glance, the man's appearance was ordinary.
A moderately likable face.
Not tall—just average, mid-height.
But if there was one difference from ordinary people, it was his skin—pale beyond white, corpse-like.
Footsteps echoed through the bar that had gone quiet as if someone had dumped cold water over everyone.
Creeeak, step.
Creeeak, step.
The pale man simply walked forward, and everyone's eyes followed his movement.
That suffocating tension didn't loosen until a little later.
"You're here."
"You still like filthy places."
"And you're one to talk—always digging around in the dirt."
The robed figure greeted the pale man.
His manner was utterly casual, but in the minds of those watching, only one thought spun in circles.
Run.
"L-let's, l-let's go."
"Y-yeah."
In an instant, the bar emptied out. Even the owner abandoned the place, and the robed man clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
"Solion, you're really advertising yourself. 'I'm a mage who mastered forbidden magic,' you're basically shouting it."
"Cut the bullshit."
Solion brushed off the mockery with ease.
Normally they would've traded more barbs, but now wasn't the time.
"Belloc, I need your help."
"Help?"
Was it surprising?
Belloc's eyes widened.
But soon he narrowed them and looked at Solion.
"Hm. You, asking me for help. I am curious, but... damn. What should I do? I've already accepted a request from The Order."
If Solion—so intensely individualistic—was asking for help, it meant the situation was that dangerous, or that big.
It was deeply interesting.
But he had already come to Hazen at The Order's request, so...
As Belloc made a troubled expression along those lines, Solion curled his lip as if exasperated.
"If you mean infiltrating the academy, don't talk nonsense. Then what are you doing here?"
"The academy's wards have been getting noticeably tighter lately."
"Ridiculous. What's gotten worse is your laziness."
"Well, that's true too."
Belloc admitted his laziness readily.
No matter how tight the academy's wards were, it wasn't like he couldn't infiltrate.
And Solion knew that, too.
"Hah, fine. Fine. Listen. This is my personal request—and it's also a cooperation request from The Order."
"Oh? A cooperation request from The Order?"
Belloc's eyebrow twitched.
The Order basically runs on individualism.
But there are times it seeks directives or cooperation as a collective, and there are only two cases when that happens.
One.
When the Demon Realm is involved.
This academy situation was a representative case.
Some idiot mage called Friegen supposedly lost an artifact that could potentially create a Demon Realm, and then died—something like that.
'Obviously it was useless trash. How is some half-baked Forbidden Magic Adept supposed to create a Demon Realm.'
So Belloc had been killing time.
The other case is...
"An ancient ruin has been discovered."
An ancient legacy.
When Forbidden Magic Adepts spoke of "ancient ruins" or "ancient legacies," it was different in kind from what ordinary mages meant by those words.
An ancient curse.
Or...
The remnants of antiquity so blasphemous you could scarcely speak of them.
"Which is it?"
"…If I'd confirmed that, would I be here asking for your help? That would mean we already found the ruin."
"That's true."
Belloc was a Forbidden Magic Adept specialized in tracking, searching, and infiltration.
If they already knew the exact location of the ruin, they wouldn't need his help.
"So you roughly know where it is, then?"
"Of course."
Solion nodded.
Belloc was already half out of his seat.
"Where?"
At the casual question, Solion opened his mouth.
"…Hamelin Great Forest."
"Hah."
Belloc let out a hollow breath.
"Well, damn. That's going to be a miserable time."
Belloc shook his head as if the hardship was obvious.
But even so, he didn't turn back—Solion silently followed behind him.
"Hey. You know this?"
"What."
"There's an old war mage there, apparently. Sounds like a pretty big shot."
"What? What kind of old war mage is just rotting away in some great forest? Damn it. If we mess this up, we might die. Heh."
His words sounded fearful, but Belloc's expression didn't match them.
Instead—eyes like he'd found prey.
'Well... it won't be boring.'
Those eyes were like a hunter's.
Collecting the heads of outstanding mages was one of Belloc's other hobbies, after all.