Chapter 24
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: After the Storm
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The place where the storm had swept through.
The massive waves of the practical training had swept away all the lingering commotion like debris, leaving only silence in their wake.
Because that huge wave had captured everyone's attention.
Thanks to that, people thought things would finally settle down, that no more incidents would arise—but most troubles stemmed from such unfounded relief.
I glanced idly out beyond the academy.
Even after the disaster, classes continued as usual, so students came and went at regular intervals.
"You've been looking out the window more often lately."
"I have a lot on my mind."
Isel nodded and turned back to her paperwork.
I had wondered if the previous incident might leave her with trauma, but she seemed to have overcome it well.
In fact, she had used that adversity as a springboard to deepen her understanding of aura.
The faint fragrance now added to her once pristine sword was proof of that.
'She's breaking the vessel.'
In truth, aura wasn't born from a single moment of enlightenment, so she had started with the basics: shaping its form.
Imbuing mana cleanly and precisely.
Once that form was established as her foundation, it would make synthesizing aura easier even when she reached higher realms later.
The colorless, odorless mana she had first shown me was exactly that.
Not for nothing was she the second-rank student in her second year; the form was already complete.
All that remained was to infuse it with her own color and scent.
And this subtly perceptible aroma was evidence that she was beginning to define herself.
Under the guise of review rather than personal tutoring, she had shown countless changes.
Yesterday was different from today, which meant she was making progress.
A good sign.
'She'll realize it soon enough.'
This made her the second aura awakener under my guidance.
That alone was more than enough to justify renewing my temporary professor position.
From here on, it was a matter of ambition.
Namely, cultivating talent to confront the impending underground tunnel crisis.
"You've made an achievement."
"...You can tell already?"
She pouted, clearly displeased, her dissatisfaction plain as day.
Isel whipped her head away in evident annoyance.
"I was planning to surprise you with it later, like 'ta-da!'"
'A surprise, huh.'
No wonder she wanted to keep it hidden.
But what could be done? It was right there in front of my eyes.
A single glance revealed the changes.
I continued matter-of-factly.
"I have no intention of being a poor master who fails to recognize his disciple's achievements first."
Isel stared at me blankly at my offhand remark, looking newly surprised.
"Disciple... so, am I your disciple, Professor?"
"Then are you not my student?"
"Ehehe, ahem. No. Yes!"
She grinned widely to herself, as if she hadn't caught my bemused expression.
'What's got her so pleased this time.'
She crept closer like a cat with ulterior motives.
But a cat hiding its intentions always harbors sly schemes behind an innocent face.
Isel tilted her head cutely right in front of my nose, acting coquettish.
"So, does that make me your direct disciple? The disciple of a master, no less?!"
"Turn an egg into a chick, and it thinks it can say anything."
Savoring the tea she had brewed, I shook my head, telling her not to get ahead of herself.
"A c-chick?!"
"If you want to call yourself my direct disciple, you'll need to best me at least once."
"Th-that's impossible. Wh-what about something else?!"
"Win the Sword Peak Martial Tournament, then. I'll accept you."
"Th-that too..."
Sword Peak was where swordmasters reached the end of their lives.
A place for those who, after myriad achievements and doubts, sought spiritual refinement through the sword.
The elders there took direct disciples before their martial arts lineages died out, and the Sword Peak Martial Tournament pitted those disciples against each other.
Even if Ri Sete Academy was the empire's top university, it couldn't compare to Sword Peak's prestige.
Isel fidgeted with her fingers, deflated.
She stammered, whining that everything I suggested was impossibly grand.
"I-I'll do my best."
I hadn't meant for her to try.
'Can you really achieve that through hard work alone...?'
I shot Isel a glance, then closed my eyes.
She wasn't the protagonist, nor did she have a string of lucky encounters or an extraordinary birth.
At best, an extra's extra, with her name barely mentioned in the story.
A character whose presence or absence wouldn't matter.
That was precisely why I kept her close.
'Keeping her near won't twist the original plot anyway.'
I stared at Isel for a moment before looking away.
Effort couldn't hurt.
"Diligence."
Energized by my words, Isel clenched her fist.
"I'll live up to your expectations!"
I hadn't expected anything.
Still, seeing her so fired up, I didn't knock her down.
"So, what were you thinking about earlier? An insider?"
The insider wasn't a problem.
She might seem like the biggest threat right now, but she was just a low-level contractor at the end of the day.
When heretical mages truly mobilized, they'd drag in all sorts of nuisances.
Sorry as I felt for Isel, this didn't even register on that scale.
'Cultist gangs, devil worshippers, and...'
The root sustaining the world.
I let out a low hum.
The World Tree was still safe for now.
They'd focus on treatment, not revival.
The conclusion would be the same either way... but there was no reason yet to slaughter myriad creatures as fertilizer to save the World Tree.
"Don't worry about it."
"But..."
Ignoring her grumbling, I kept gazing out the window.
'Elin's awakening isn't complete.'
Our preparations against the coming underground tunnel were inadequate.
Even a fully awakened Elin struggled in the tunnels—what chance did a half-awakened one have?
The academy could even fall into their hands.
'That can't happen.'
What I wanted was to end it with minimal damage, beyond mere defense.
Elin's growth had to match or exceed the original story.
'That means raising this half-baked Elin.'
How to go about it...
"Hmm... maybe I can use her like this."
Having reached a conclusion on my own, Isel tilted her head.
Her expression said she wanted to know too—tell me.
Refuse, and she'd sulk.
I looked at her with a pleased smile.
"...Why?"
She stood there pouting, but she didn't seem to mind our eyes meeting.
I unclasp my hands and asked half-jokingly, half-seriously.
"How are you at acting wounded?"
At my inscrutable words, Isel let out a dazed sound.
"Pardon?!"
What are you talking about?
Seeing my bright smile, Isel looked horrified.
* * *
The Snowfield Magic Tower buzzed with activity today as well.
Even with the doors locked and visitors turned away, there was clear reason for their busyness.
But that applied only to those solving the problem; the rest of the low-level staff enjoyed a rare stretch of leisure.
The receptionist, who usually greeted tower guests, stretched languidly and gazed at the ceiling.
The bright lights stung her eyes, so she narrowed them and turned away.
The ceiling was over-illuminated with far too many lamps.
A single one would suffice for an ordinary home, but to create a clearer, brighter atmosphere, lamps dotted the ceiling like stars.
The floor below basked in such light that shadows were barely perceptible.
The receptionist stopped staring upward and propped her chin on her hand.
Another utterly boring day manning the front desk, while unimaginable events unfolded above.
She occasionally glanced at the ceiling just in case.
'Of course, there's no reason for anyone to come down to the first floor...'
Still, thinking it possible, she checked now and then.
"Still, the quiet's nice."
"Sometimes this isn't so bad."
Her colleague, a female staffer, was sprawled out, slurping a drink.
Momentarily irked by her casual demeanor, the receptionist let out a dry laugh.
"Aren't you too relaxed?"
"Normal workload."
The curt reply, stripped of context, silenced her.
True, the usual workload was intense...
Suddenly, this languor felt precious.
"Right, not all tower visitors are students—mostly high-status nobles or merchants. Being deferential to them every single day is exhausting."
"Rest up now while you can."
"Yeah. Guess I will..."
Stretching out, languor spread through her body.
Yawning against encroaching drowsiness, she placed a small cushion by her desk.
"You..."
"What? You said to relax."
Anticipating a scolding for being too lax, the receptionist pursed her lips.
But the staffer just shook her head.
"Got a spare?"
"..."
It wasn't a rebuke—she was just jealous of the cushion.
Handing over another, they both lounged.
'Haa... so comfy.'
Might as well take a nap...
"You can't enter here..."
"Do you know who I am?"
A heavy, sharp voice pressed down.
The guard at the entrance hesitated.
Normally, she'd eject anyone rude regardless of status.
Her colleague looked uncomfortable too.
"...Always some like that."
"Acting high and mighty like they're all that."
"Another spoiled noble brat with a fancy title, huh."
Murmurs from the side.
Irritation at their lazy break being interrupted.
No kind words for that.
"Step aside."
"But the Tower Lord has—"
"Then are you willing to bear the consequences of blocking me?"
The receptionist snorted.
Always some who acted like big shots.
Strutting as if ignoring them would topple the tower.
But the tower wasn't some flickering lantern; ejecting a few rude ones caused no issue.
This visitor would huff off and leave on their own soon enough.
The brief stir from the commotion faded.
As she tried to drift off in her drowsy body, the firmly shut tower door opened.
Startled, the receptionist unleashed a sharp retort.
"Excuse me. The tower has been closed since last month. What you're doing is clear trespassing, which the tower can formally protest and report as a criminal act..."
She glanced at the intruder's face.
Blond hair and piercing blue eyes.
Striking features.
The man in the white uniform exuded clean yet resolute poise.
His upright bearing, without a shred of shame, made her momentarily doubt herself.
Snapping out of it—What am I thinking?—she deliberately hardened her demeanor.
But before she could, the man radiated overwhelming pressure.
"Report me if you want. If you can."
'An industry pro? No, this is...'
She'd encountered countless bratty types at the desk.
Their threats were empty tantrums, absurd and unrealistic.
That's why she could scoff: try it if you dare.
But rarely, exceptions appeared.
The receptionist's face paled in shock.
"Toskantana Aiden Pisvolt. If you can't grasp the name, then the empire's third master will do."
Declaring thus, Aiden glared, unleashing crushing pressure.
"I've overlooked the stench wafting from my lab until now."
His icy, forged-steel face twisted.
He barely restrained the urge to storm upstairs right then.
"Your delays and foolish decisions from failing to provide timely replacements—I let slide, assuming you'd handle it."
Her gaze fully captured by Aiden, the receptionist finally noticed the girl behind him—and grasped the source of his rage.
A gray-haired girl.
Her name was surely...
'The practical training victim?'
Dragging a student here personally meant the issue stemmed from the student.
Suddenly, everything clicked in her mind.
"However, your folly has harmed my student."
Suppressing his seething fury, Aiden declared.
"Now that I have cause, I will no longer stand by."
Realizing something had gone terribly wrong, the receptionist activated the communication crystal.