Third Year (3)
Pop—! Fireworks and magic burst in the sky, painting it with vibrant colors.
Beneath them, students and visitors packed the academy streets, hurrying to find spots. Street food filled their hands, and smiles bloomed on their faces.
It was only natural. Today marked the freshman entrance exams and ceremony—the first major event since the disaster of Monster Season. Back then, everyone thought the academy might collapse for good.
The academy, fully aware of that, had scaled up the event to three times last year's size. Tiranis's proactive stance only made people smile brighter.
The festive mood was infectious. But there was one place with the exact opposite vibe: a building in the Craft Department.
TA interviews were in full swing there.
"Right. Explain the difference between the two."
Ruina—no, Professor Ruina's question. The student stumbled over his words.
"Uh, just a sec…."
"One minute."
Her curt reply only ratcheted up his nerves. But no matter how hard he racked his brain, the answer wouldn't come.
A minute passed.
Professor Ruina announced the end in her flat tone. "Fail. The answer's a 0.0012% difference in mana quantity. Fundamentals are lacking."
"How the hell…."
…do you even know that? Professor Ruina's question wasn't something taught at the academy. But he couldn't protest. He'd heard how brilliant she'd been as a student just last year.
Still, he couldn't give up like this. He'd nailed every question until the last one. Failing over that felt so unfair.
"Professor Ruina—no, Senior Ruina, just one more chance…!"
The moment "senior" left his lips, mana sealed his mouth.
Professor Ruina fixed him with an expressionless stare, but her eyes were ice-cold. "It's professor, not senior. Get it right."
Like it or not, Ruina was a professor now. No longer a student.
He nodded frantically. He didn't have the guts to face her intimidating aura.
Ruina withdrew the mana. "We're done. Out."
"Y-yes, ma'am…."
The thirty-ninth applicant slunk out, dejected. As he left, he thought: I knew she was quirky as a student, but professorhood's made it worse. Heard she hasn't passed anyone yet.
"Haa…."
A sigh echoed as the door clicked shut.
"Fundamentals lacking." Do they even study properly anymore? Back when I attended Tiranis, everyone was passionate about improving and learning.
But somehow, none of these applicants measured up to her old classmates.
Her colleague, however, thought differently. This professor had come to assist the newly minted Ruina.
"Wasn't that last question a bit tough? The paper on it was published just three months ago."
True. Ruina's question drew from cutting-edge knowledge. Active professors knew it cold, but students? Not so much.
"Everyone knew it back then."
"That's 'cause your class was full of firebrands, Professor Ruina."
In short, hers had been a special case. Sky-high overall level.
"No one caught your eye yet? Professor Ruina?"
"No."
Ruina answered with a pout. Over two weeks, she'd seen around four hundred applicants. None met her standards.
Of course, that was her bar. A few cleared a basic pass—like the kid who'd just left.
Her colleague, who'd known her as a student for three years, picked up on her mood.
"I get it sucks, but pick some by week's end. Gotta make it work."
Ruina's first lecture was next Wednesday. They needed time to sync up beforehand. The professor led, but a good TA made or broke it.
"Okay."
Ruina nodded and called the next applicant. But even as time dragged on, no keepers emerged.
The entrance exams outside had wrapped up. She'd need to attend the ceremony as a professor soon, so interviews had to end. The applicant list was exhausted.
She finished the last one.
"Out. Don't need your type."
It hadn't ended well. The guy had been downright rude—some applicants waltzed in thinking TA was a cakewalk, zero prep.
"…Haa."
Ruina let out a short sigh. Stress throbbed in her temples. She craved something sweet to lift her mood.
But no time. Ceremony duties called.
"Bummer."
"Nah."
Her colleague offered encouragement. What could they do? Complaining wouldn't help—they had to pick from this lot.
"Well, then…."
Interviews over, her colleague rose for the ceremony. But then the door flew open.
In rushed a Tiranis staffer—Ruina's helper.
"P-Professor Ruina. A TA applicant just showed up…."
He spoke, sweating bullets.
Ruina tilted her head. "Applicant?"
"Y-yes…."
Odd. TAs applied first, then interviewed. Slots were scheduled tight. Walk-ins weren't a huge deal, but rude.
"Professor Ruina. Up for one more? We've got time."
Her colleague checked her watch. True enough.
Ruina nodded. "Send 'em in."
"R-right away…!"
The tense staffer vanished.
Moments later, he returned with the real last applicant.
Golden blonde hair gleaming, sharp eyes fierce and striking. Neatly groomed hair and clothes, striding in like a noble young lord.
"Still open, Senior Ruina?"
Kyle Arden—her disciple.
Ruina's eyes lit up, a smile blooming. "Pass."
No need to deliberate. Pass, obviously.
The exams and ceremony wrapped up. I explained to Rana and the exhausted Evan that I had business, then split. We'd meet for dinner.
After, I followed Senior Ruina back to the professor's office—the very spot where she'd declared me passed hours ago.
"Sit."
Back in the office, she guided me straight to the sofa. Plush, high-end stuff.
She wasn't done. She pulled desserts from her custom fridge—over ten kinds—and set them before me.
Not satisfied, she boiled water. "Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate too."
I chuckled. "Brewing tea now, huh?"
"Yeah. They said it'd be useful, so I learned."
Made sense. Professors entertained guests. Handy skill.
"Coffee, please."
"Got it."
She nodded, grinding beans. Full-on barista mode.
And in that short time, her vibe shifted. Way more mature. People really change, huh?
'Though her height's the same.'
Soon, she set down the coffee. Impressive aroma for a newbie. I sipped.
"Good?"
"Yeah, not bad."
Taste held up too. I alternated bites of cake and sips.
"When's your first lecture?"
"Next Wednesday."
"Not much time."
"Nope."
Friday today. Prep by Tuesday—four days.
"Decided on the topic?"
"Yeah, here."
Senior Ruina handed over the syllabus. Solid content, freshman-friendly. No issues.
"Looks good."
"I made it all."
She beamed, proud.
I skimmed more, then asked, "What'll I do in class?"
"Like when you were my TA before."
She outlined the basics briefly. One: lecture assist. Help with demos or whatever—simple.
"Nothing tough."
TA's role was support, after all.
Two: student wrangling. Freshmen would struggle adjusting. I'd help 'em out.
"Easy peasy."
"Yeah. You'll nail it."
Her eyes shone with trust. Now professor-TA, it felt even deeper.
"Anything else?"
"Nope. Can you do field trips?"
"Depends on scheduling."
Student first, other stuff like helping Evan could pop up.
"Cool. I'll ask when needed."
Professors usually bossed TAs around. Not her. Made sense—her personality didn't lean that way, and she wasn't the type to cling to hierarchy.
"Contract here."
She pulled out the employment papers. Always thorough.
"Ooh, generous pay."
"For my disciple. Want more?"
"Nah, fine."
She'd probably give ten times over if asked. But no need—I wasn't hurting for cash.
"Here."
I signed and handed it back. She nodded, extending her hand.
"Looking forward to it, Kyle Arden—my disciple."
"Yes, Professor Ruina."
She poked my lips with her finger. "No 'professor.' Call me senior. Always."
"Even in class?"
"Yup. Senior."
Obsessed with that title. Fine by me if she wanted it.
"Got it. Will do, Senior Ruina."
"Good boy."
Head pat, as always. Routine now.
"Prep the lecture?"
"All set."
We dove into next week's class prep. And so, my TA life at Tiranis Academy began.