In a Romance Fantasy, Threats Are Common Sense
"Ah…!"
Professor Ash covered her face with both hands, trembling uncontrollably.
So cool! Aah!
Her ash-gray eyes brimmed with ecstasy and awe.
"Of course, Student Rian!"
Professor Ash leaped down from the podium and seized Rian's hands in hers. Her voice quivered with overwhelming emotion.
"I've devoted my entire life to researching this, but I never dreamed I'd meet someone who truly understands illusion magic like you do! Yes, it was a blatant conspiracy!"
"A conspiracy?"
"Yes, a conspiracy! Shoving this magnificent illusion magic into the beginner curriculum just because it lacks physical force—that was a petty, despicable plot by those fossilized old fogeys who fear its true power!"
Professor Ash unleashed a torrent of pent-up frustration. Her field had always been dismissed by other mages solely because it dealt no physical damage. But Rian had proven in a single demonstration just how devastating a weapon illusion magic could be.
"Student Rian, thank you so much for recognizing the true value of my magic. If you want, I'll carve out personal time for private lessons—whatever it takes!"
Rian blinked his sleepy eyes but nodded readily. Her knowledge was essential for crafting virtual reality.
"Sure, whatever. I'll make sure no one dares ignore illusion magic after I'm done with it."
It wasn't an empty promise. Once Rian's goals were realized, illusion magic would be hailed as the creator of new worlds.
Professor Ash wiped away tears of gratitude at his words. But the classroom atmosphere among the students watching this heartwarming mentor-student exchange was as tense as thin ice.
They exchanged furtive glances, whispering in hushed tones.
It can break people.
He's a walking disaster.
I hope he didn't notice me? Please forget I laughed earlier!
In their eyes, Rian was a calamity who seized control of minds and erased reality itself.
Ardelia stared at him with a hardened expression.
To think illusion magic held such terrifying, chilling lethality. If that hit an enemy's command structure mid-battle? It could annihilate their forces without swinging a single sword.
Ardelia reflected on her own shallow knowledge of magic. Rian had revealed illusion magic's worth—she'd need to study and prepare countermeasures.
Meanwhile, Vesperia stroked her black kitten, eyes sparkling.
"Wow, if Rian masters illusion magic too, he'll be insanely awesome! Right, Your Highness?"
Ardelia could only nod with an awkward smile at Vesperia's innocent admiration.
Then Professor Ash turned, gazing down at Asrion, who still lay sprawled on the floor.
Humiliation kept him pinned down. A pungent liquid soaked his crotch.
"Student Asrion, stay still—I'll clean that up with a cleansing spell."
She snapped her fingers casually. A simple everyday hygiene spell swept over him, vaporizing the stench and damp stain in an instant.
But no magic could erase the humiliation scarred into his soul.
I want to die. Damn it!
Asrion finally dragged himself up. He'd lived his life adored as a genius of the era. Yet here he was, humiliated by illusion magic, pissing himself in front of the entire Diamond Class.
To inflict this shame on me. That damned bastard!
But the endless falling terror from moments ago lingered too vividly. He lacked even the courage to lash out at Rian.
He could only swallow his rage inwardly. Head bowed like a worm, Asrion slunk back to his seat.
Morning classes ended. The lunch bell rang, and students headed to the cafeteria in groups.
In the chaos, one Diamond Class first-year girl slipped away from her friends.
"Hey, guys, I forgot something in my room. I'll catch up—go ahead without me."
Tilda, a plain-looking girl with brown hair in twin braids, waved casually and veered toward the dorms instead.
Alone in her room, she locked the door securely, slumped at her desk, and pulled out parchment and a quill with shaking hands.
This is insane. This academy's gone mad. What monster den have I walked into?
Tilda wiped cold sweat from her brow. Her true identity: a spy for the Abyss Cult, worshippers of an evil outer god.
The cult had bought off her fallen noble family with vast sums and connections, trained her, and infiltrated her into Diamond Class. Her parents thrived on their support.
"Go. Monitor Vesperia."
Her mission was singular: track the cursed star Vesperia von Edelgart, hidden in the Edelgart Ducal House.
Tilda dipped her quill in ink and scrawled furiously.
The black cat spirit accompanying the target Vesperia von Edelgart is not an ordinary low-grade spirit. Estimated at minimum 4-Circle or higher upper entity—exercise extreme caution on approach.
She recalled Asrion's blazing hawk trembling submissively before the cat in the elemental magic class.
Black mages or brute-force powerhouses drew academy scrutiny. Only unassuming types like her could operate. A 4-Circle spirit was a major threat.
But the real horror lurked beside them.
The princess Ardelia de Solarrium, ever at the target's side, commands a monstrous spirit nearing 5-Circle levels. Its form alone suggests unimaginable close-combat prowess—never let your guard down.
Her quill trembled fiercest here.
Above all, the commoner boy Rian shadowing those two is a walking catastrophe. Claims 4-Circle yet empowers spirits single-handedly and seizes minds via illusions. Without high priests intervening personally, no ordinary agent can oppose him. Target opportunities when Rian and Vesperia are separated.
Tilda documented the hellish class in exhaustive detail. Finished, she opened the window, placed the letter on the sill. A small bird swooped in, snatched it, and soared away.
"Please, this dire situation must reach them accurately."
The bird vanished into the sky toward the capital's dark alleys.
On Solaris's outskirts, in a dingy warehouse basement, an Abyss Cult operative unrolled the bird-delivered letter.
"Let's see what useful intel our expensive plant has brought."
He smirked, scanning Tilda's parchment. But his brow furrowed grotesquely as he read.
"……."
Silence hung heavy. He thrust the letter close, staring intently. The words didn't change.
13-year-old girls commanding 4-Circle and 5-Circle monster spirits? A commoner boy at 4-Circle with archmage-level disaster powers?
What nonsense was this?
"Hah."
He sighed in disbelief, then barked a hollow laugh.
"This crazy bitch—we paid her tuition, got her into the academy, and she sends this word-salad crap as 'intelligence'?"
He crumpled the parchment viciously. To his common sense, it read like third-rate fantasy drivel.
13-year-old girls handling 4-Circle, 5-Circle spirits? Empowered by a 4-Circle commoner kid? And he's a illusion-wielding monster too?
Who'd believe such tripe? Diamond Class pressure must've broken her. Or maybe betrayal—spreading lies to sow chaos.
"Useless wench. Fallen noble whose brain melted under the stress?"
Tsking, he shredded the warning. His priority wasn't some commoner or princess's pet.
Only the cursed star, vessel for the evil outer god.
Still, far easier to touch than holed up in the Edelgart's brutal northern lands.
A greedy smirk curled his lips. The ironclad northern knights had guarded her fiercely. But now Vesperia had left home... no, returned to her true home: the capital academy.
Opportunity to secure the cursed star at last.
"Ignore the irrelevant crap. Focus solely on Vesperia's movements and report."
"Yes, sir."
They thoroughly dismissed the warnings of true calamity.
