Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Audience with the Dean
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In the end, he truly needed the skills to teach children.
At the very least, he had to reach the level that the original 'Philip' from the game had attained.
And in a short amount of time, no less.
The original Philip had at least managed to hold on at the academy thanks to his swordsmanship skills.
"So, can you do it or not?"
As the saying went, even a rotten herring was still a herring. Philip might have been a utter wastrel, but he was still a swordsman who had received a high level of education.
Moreover, thanks to his setting as having genuine talent in swordsmanship, he remembered that in the original story, Philip had wielded Sword Aura proficiently during his battle with the protagonist's party.
'Come to think of it, he was ridiculously talented. So why the hell did he live like that? If he'd just toned down his temper a bit... No, that's not the point. Something's on the tip of my tongue.'
Philip pressed his temple with his finger, pondering for a moment. His mind itched, as if a single trigger would make it all click.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
"Excuse me. Instructor Oswald."
It was the calm voice of a woman.
"Who is it?"
"The dean has summoned you. He said if you're free, he'd like you to come to his office now."
It seemed she was a maid sent to deliver the summons.
"I'll get ready right away and head up. Thank you."
"Yes. Understood."
As Philip replied, he heard the sound of her footsteps fading away.
'Here it comes.'
Philip tried to stay calm, but he couldn't stop the bead of cold sweat trickling down from his temple.
'Philip's... no, now my mother and the dean were close.'
He wasn't sure exactly what kind of relationship they had. But for her to pull strings for an instructor position at the prestigious Previa Academy, it had to be more than ordinary.
Perhaps she was his former prized disciple, or someone he had once commanded.
'...Actually, that's not important right now.'
The real issue was the dean himself.
Archmage Rosello Graham.
He was the highest authority at Previa Academy, one of the strongest beings in the world, and the one currently holding Philip's fate in his hands.
"Haa..."
Philip let out a deep sigh, straightened his clothes, and prepared himself before stepping out of his room.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Stepping out of the staff dormitory, it was a short walk to the main building.
With the semester still a week away, the building was quiet. He only passed a few maids cleaning and one or two staff members handling paperwork.
None of them greeted Philip first.
In fact, they averted their eyes, bowing their heads in fear.
'The rumors have already spread, huh.'
But Philip wasn't worried. Issues like that would sort themselves out with time.
Arriving at the dean's office, Philip took a few deep breaths before cautiously knocking. A frail, aged voice answered from within.
"Come in, Philip Oswald."
The tone was gentle, but Philip didn't let his guard down.
"Pardon the intrusion, Dean."
There was no need to open the door—it swung open on its own.
As Philip entered, the simple office came into view. No decorations, just a few magical tools, bookshelves, and a desk.
Archmage Rosello Graham looked like a kindly old man from next door.
But Philip knew all too well what a monster he was.
'...His magic could stand toe-to-toe with a dragon. And he doesn't hesitate to act when he must.'
He was a powerhouse who could crush the current Philip with a single finger.
"Sit down, Philip."
"Yes."
Pulling up a chair, Philip sat as the dean regarded him with a steady gaze.
It felt like the dean was peering right into his soul, making Philip swallow dryly.
"It's been a while since we've met face-to-face. I've heard plenty about how you've been, so no need to ask."
'As expected, he knows.'
Philip hadn't expected any warmth. He gave a wry smile and bowed his head.
"I know it was a difficult decision for you to accept me as an instructor. As you said, it's hard to claim I'm suited to teach children."
"I understand, Dean."
"Your mother, Selenia, was one of my most cherished disciples in my lifetime. But that doesn't mean I'll give you special treatment. If you negatively influence the children, you'll be gone. Do you understand?"
Philip knew this was the moment to speak up.
Rosello Graham was a man worthy of the title Archmage, with impeccable character.
No matter how grave a mistake a student or staff made, he never raised his voice.
His anger was reserved for specific targets.
Demons, outlaws, and betrayers—those who threatened the people under his protection.
That was it.
For a man of his caliber to speak this way meant Philip's reputation was that bad.
Philip lifted his head straight and met the dean's eyes.
"Yes. I understand that as well. But I'm fully aware of how important this position is. What you fear won't happen."
"We'll see about that, won't we?"
The dean's response was nonchalant. The wisdom of nearly two centuries couldn't be shaken by a few words.
But Philip pressed on calmly, undeterred.
"I may not be the greatest teacher, but I'll strive to be a small pillar of support for the children amid the hardships and trials they'll face as they grow."
A glint appeared in the dean's eyes.
Upright posture without a hint of falter, eyes filled with resolve. A calm yet firm voice.
Philip's demeanor didn't match the rumors.
No one who lounged in salons like they owned them and caroused with lowlifes could have eyes like that.
"...I heard you well. You may go. You'll be busy preparing for the new semester."
"Yes, Dean."
Dismissed, Philip rose and bowed before leaving.
Even after he was gone, Archmage Rosello Graham stared at the empty seat for a long while.
"...A pillar of support?"
Having spent ages as an educator at the academy, the dean could tell.
The educational philosophy Philip had just voiced wasn't something forged in a short time.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "...Hoo."
Exiting the dean's office, Philip let out a deep breath.
He couldn't be sure if his words had swayed the dean.
'Busy preparing for the new semester, he said.'
Still, he hadn't left a bad impression, so that was enough for now.
He hadn't expected words alone to change anything without proof.
True change had to be shown through actions.
Descending the stairs to the first floor of the main building, Philip suddenly felt the need to relieve himself.
The tension from the conversation with the dean had gotten to him.
Heading to the west end of the corridor where the restrooms were, he ran into someone just a few steps away.
"Philip... Oswald."
Bright golden hair shimmering with a blue tint, porcelain skin. A face blending mature woman and innocent girl.
Philip recognized her immediately.
This was his first time seeing her in person, but she wasn't hard to identify.
She was one of his favorite characters, after all.
"What the hell are you thinking, coming here? How long do you plan to torment me? If you had any conscience, you wouldn't do this. You know how much I've suffered because of you."
Felicia Oswald.
She was a swordswoman of exceptional talent, rising to professor at Previa Academy in her mid-twenties and heir to the Oswald Count Family.
Starting out awkward as a novice professor, she grew alongside her students into a mature educator.
Felicia glared at her brother like he was a bug.
To her, Philip was likely the sole blemish on her life.
For someone as near-perfect as her, having a family member like him was stain enough.
"Does it make any sense for a wastrel like you to teach children? What are you going to teach them? How to pick up women in salons? How to win at gambling? If you came to the academy just to avoid the northern front, pack your bags and leave now. I'll beg Father to send you to some quiet rural fief."
Philip listened to her tirade, then let out a small sigh.
This hostility was beyond his expectations.
'Hey, that's not me anymore. This is too much, seriously.'
"...Your words are too harsh, Professor."
"What?"
"Since it came up, honestly, knowing how to pick up women in salons or win at gambling might come in handy someday. No one knows how life will turn out for those kids."
Felicia let out a hollow laugh, trembling with rage at Philip's brazen response.
"Ha, are you insane? Have you lost your mind?"
She looked ready to channel her mana and strike him, so Philip quickly stepped back.
"I'm kidding, Sis. Even if I'm a total wastrel, you think I'd actually do that? I just came here looking for my last chance to change."
"Kidding? You and I aren't close enough for jokes."
Felicia's anger subsided slightly, but her eyes still burned with contempt and fury.
Philip tried to gauge the depth of her ill will toward him in that moment.
But it was far worse than he'd imagined. He wondered if he should even be grateful she was talking to him.
"...If I do well here, maybe our relationship could improve a little."
Felicia scoffed at his words.
"Don't talk nonsense, Philip Oswald. I know you well. You'll never change. Mom might love you even as a wastrel, but I don't. I did hope once that you might turn around. But that hope died when you laid hands on my maid, Lily."
Hearing that, Philip muttered unconsciously.
'Can't blame her.'
"Let me make this clear: I'll do everything to get you kicked out of here. I won't tolerate trash like you corrupting innocent, kind children. Got it?"
Philip nodded as if he understood, then spoke.
"Good luck. I'll be rooting for you."
"Get lost, Philip."
Felicia flung open the door to the women's restroom and stormed in.
'The situation's more serious than I thought.'
Watching her reaction, Philip now fully grasped it.
There would be no second chances with her.
She wouldn't miss even the tiniest opening—she'd tear into it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Philip headed to the swordsmanship training hall.
No matter what, to solve problems, he first needed to identify them.
And his biggest problem was his swordsmanship.
'Philip, I believe in you. Otherwise, we're all dead. For real.'
He trusted Philip's talent. Even with his ruined personality, he'd survived at the academy to some extent, so the talent had to be real.
Besides, he had little else to rely on.
Fortunately, with the semester approaching, the storage shed was stocked with well-maintained wooden swords, neatly arranged.
Philip picked one up.
Information flooded his mind instantly.
'Weight balance almost like a real sword. They put effort into the iron core inside. Handle sized for students' grips.'
Gripping the wooden sword, Philip stepped out to the training ground.
Instinctively, he assumed a stance.
It was an eerie sensation.
As if he'd been wielding a sword since time immemorial.
Normally, people learned by absorbing knowledge in the brain and training the body.
But what Philip felt was the opposite.
How far to spread his feet, where to fix his gaze, how to wield the power surging from deep within the moment he gripped the sword—
His body remembered it all perfectly.
Philip realized his body's talent was the real deal.
"...Hoo."
He didn't stop there.
Concentrating his mind, he drew a deep breath. An unfamiliar power whispered from his dantian.
You can do it, so hurry and draw me out.
Following the whisper, Philip channeled his mana. Soon, he felt it stimulating his tendons and muscles throughout his body.
'I believed in you, Philip.'
And then Philip confirmed it.
The shimmering blue blade of Sword Aura enveloping the wooden sword.