Chapter 45
Chapter 45
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Becoming the Academy's Genius Professor
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Personal goal: Lure academy students to raise overall awareness of illusion magic / get them to join the Violet Magic Tower / make them buy tons of Violet Magic Tower merchandise.
Tasks: Bulk up the students using simulations.
Secret mission: Root out the black mages hiding within the academy.
Important duty: Regularly introduce female students to Pingbalrez.
"...I don't remember writing that last line. Pingbalrez, was that you?"
"It was, sir."
I erased the last line about duties and whatnot.
All administrative processing is boring and grueling. It makes both the person handling it and the one receiving it writhe in agony. The academy's professor onboarding procedures were no different.
"So, you're saying the guy we hired to lecture on countermeasures against illusion magic..."
"Shouldn't we give him broader authority? He's a pick from the Second Prince, after all."
"Handing unchecked duties to an unverified individual is a bit much, don't you think? At the very least, we should confirm his character and abilities first—"
"Pingbalrez, wanna play word chain?"
"Sure. Mithril."
Professors, administrative staff, the vice principal, student representatives—the place was crawling with people raising their voices over my placement. I killed time in the chaos by playing word chain with Pingbalrez.
The root of all this mess was that the Second Prince, who had abused his authority to shove me into the academy, hadn't properly smoothed things over. If you're gonna plant someone, at least put them in a high position—don't just yeet them in and call it a day.
And it wasn't just that. He'd gone and spilled this insane line about how "he can wield hyper-realistic illusion magic, so he can supplement the students' lack of practical combat experience."
The irony was that the guy himself believed it was dimensional magic. A prince who mistook illusion magic for dimensional magic was now disguising it as illusion magic.
And that was how this clusterfuck erupted.
A massive free-for-all debate on what duties to dump on this random wizard who popped up out of nowhere. Plus word chain with Pingbalrez.
"Distorted Lament."
"Sword of Sighs."
"Is that a real artifact?"
"Is that a real spell?"
Our wholesome back-and-forth, each side doubting the other's expertise, hit 1-1 and dragged into a third round.
After an hour and a half of bickering, the academy folks finally concluded they needed to see my abilities first. A round-faced clerk in glasses stood up, approached me, and asked,
"Your circle level?"
"Third circle."
"You can't even manifest a familiar, and you think you have what it takes to teach our students?"
"Are you questioning His Highness the Second Prince's judgment?"
"...!! N-No, that's not it. I'm merely doing my utmost to serve the Empire..."
The clerk deflated like a punctured balloon and shrank back. Having routed the first challenger, the next up was a sleazy-looking wizard who grilled me.
"Alejandro Menubarane. Silver-rank mage of the Golden Magic Tower, in charge of training ground maintenance and Fundamentals of Elemental Theory here at the academy. No intent to belittle you, lad, but I've achieved familiar manifestation."
He meant he was belittling me.
"Hm."
"Even among the students, plenty have reached third circle. This is the academy, the bedrock of the Empire's power, after all. Your skills might suffice out in the wild, but they fall short for a professorship here. For the sake of the children's education, wouldn't it be best if you stepped down voluntarily?"
"Um, excuse me, who are you even talking to, Professor Alejandro...?!"
"What do you mean...? Huh?"
He'd been muttering all sorts of concerns at a crabapple tree I'd layered with a silver-rank illusion disguised as a woman. A voice from the side snapped him out of it. His face turned tomato-red from the surging embarrassment as he chewed on his handkerchief and retreated.
He had decent mental barriers, but disguising it as girl intel let it slip right in. That sleazy mug screamed "ladies' man," and sure enough.
Finally, a one-eyed Viking stepped forward, hefting a massive two-handed axe in one grip.
"Nice to meetcha, anchovy! Name's Alekson, in charge of Everything About Close Combat! Supplementing real combat experience with illusion magic, eh? Sounds good—if you can actually simulate realistic fights, anchovy!"
"Hm."
"A scrawny thing like you with no real battle experience—how're you gonna pull that off? Come on out and take my axe! Drop me, and I'll acknowledge ya!"
"How about verbal sparring instead?"
With that, I quietly opened the large bag tucked under my arm. It was gear for building the academy's simulation room—including all the combat data I'd diligently fed into the AI so far.
Way back, around the time I'd gotten pummeled by that cleaning golem.
From then on, I'd been inputting combat data into the AI, spinning endless battles in accelerated time as long as my mana held out. Far from perfect—there's no end to the path of nothingness.
But it should be enough to lean on.
"Think you can win with just words?"
"Give it a shot."
"Fine. I'll step to the right diagonal with my axe raised first—"
I input the one-eyed Viking's combat data and waited. The AI spat out the next move; I voiced it verbatim. Rinse and repeat.
A moment later.
"Wahhh..."
The one-eyed Viking clutched his axe, sobbing pitifully. Even after twisting desperately three times to counter, he'd been utterly dismantled. The one-eyed prof, defeated in verbal sparring by a mage, later reflected:
There was no emotion in that mage's sword—just cold calculation on the optimal way to kill, like something only a batshit-insane murder ghost could pull off.
If it'd been a straight-up 1v1 duel, I'd have bet on losing. Academy professors weren't your average walking human weapons who made killing their profession? Even Silver-rank boy could hurl something like Earth Spike and leave you critically wounded from a graze.
But give me a bit of prep time and first strike? Easy peasy.
Thanks to their full-on complacency from my lack of familiar, I got a free pass on proving my chops. With the faculty's approval, I proudly became a professor in my field.
Handled the paperwork, got assigned professor dorms and a private office, and before I knew it, time flew as I tackled the busywork. Now, with just a week till opening day, all that's left is prepping the lectures I'd put off to the end.
Thanks to the Second Prince's (forced) briefing, I had the academy structure down pat. Subjects split into mandatory and electives—gotta take all the mandatories, pick electives at your leisure.
Unlike modern universities, grades didn't matter for graduation. You could wallpaper with Fs and still "complete" the academy. Nobody did 'cause it'd be embarrassing as hell.
I'd teach the mandatory Countering Illusion Magic,
and for electives, they basically said teach whatever the hell I wanted.
Some profs taught stuff like How to Tear a Wyvern Apart Barehanded to scare off enrollees. Not sure if they were slacking or genuinely trying to teach but got ignored.
"What should I teach...?"
"Wondering what to teach so the kids avoid signing up?"
"Nah, no plans to slack. Might as well make it mutually beneficial now that I'm here. Got so much to share with this brutal medieval academy that I'm actually stumped."
"Like what?"
"How to Fake Being a Cool Medieval Knight, Eleven Ways to Steal a Man's Heart, that kinda thing."
"...?"
Pingbalrez's blank expression shifted subtly. Then, at some point, her crazy mage murder mode flipped on, and she floored the accelerator right into me.
"You into guys? Yeah, figured."
"No. Watch your mouth, Rezzy."
"Then what's Eleven Ways to Steal a Man's Heart? Explain yourself."
"Theoretically, men know men's hearts best. So they know the best ways to steal 'em too."
I was confident. In a cliché-free world like this, every flirt was a killing blow. I'd taken down the Northern Grand Duke and a bunch of other guys that way—oh, and the Second Prince as a bonus.
Joking aside, I was sure it'd be effective if taught. The image of noble ladies charging with toast in their mouths already had my heart racing.
"Crazy gay mage, sir. At least pretend to mull over the black mage hunt."
"Rezzy, I've got that covered."
A big event to inject dreams and hope into the drab academy life. Throw in some real sting variations, and I'd snag two birds with one stone.
"Why do you think a black mage became a black mage?"
"Tragic past, craving power, beef with the goddess cult—usual suspects."
"Right, ultimately they turned to black magic 'cause they lacked the strength to achieve their goals. Check this out."
I pulled out a longsword I'd given a light magical once-over and handed it to Pingbalrez. She took it, inspecting it closely.
"Fifteen silver pieces, tops."
"Hey, I bought that for one gold coin...?"
"Idiot."
"...Awaken, demon sword!"
As I chanted the activation, the gem in the pommel split open, revealing an eyeball. It darted around wildly before fixing on Pingbalrez and narrowing its pupil.
"Hmph!"
Pikang—!
Pingbalrez's right straight shot out. A perfect weight-loaded hook punch cleaved the longsword clean in half. The demon sword... was dead.
Pingbalrez reloaded her next fist and glared at me.
"What?"
I started explaining before that fist could launch at me. A shame about the gold-coin sword getting bisected, but keeping my head attached came first.
"It's an illusion. Illusion. A toy sword made with illusion magic."
"True, no evil aura or anything."
"Flood the place with convincing fakes like this to bait the black mages. I'll be the fisherman who reels 'em in."
"Think you can fool 'em with a sword that does jack shit?"
"You don't get it—it's all about storytelling..."
Yeah, storytelling was key. Set up a badass scenario that screams "believe me," and even a toy sword becomes a legit demon blade with insane sealed power. I'd scatter these all over the academy with various hidden-piece hooks.
If it landed in non-black-mage hands, it'd go, "Moved by your pure heart, I choose death," and self-purify nicely.
I crossed my legs and held out my hand. Pingbalrez stared blankly and said,
"What."
"Bite it. Two gold coins."
"Fifteen silvers, I said."
"Excluding the scam I fell for. Just the reagent materials."
"... "
Pingbalrez averted her gaze. What, two gold's pocket change—you dig and it'd pop out. Peanuts compared to Magic Tower funding.
"Th-The tower gets a lot... Sigh, the Defense Bureau pays peanuts."
"Debt incurred, then. Get down."
"Yes, sir."
Pingbalrez dropped into plank position on the spot. I plopped my butt on her solid back, crossed my legs, and lightly gripped her ponytail like a handle. This was our latest pastime. Boredom, mostly.
Missing the Magic Tower Master's face made the loneliness worse. Was she eating well? Washing properly? Still low-kicking her tower buddies full of vim and vigor? Did she think of me now and then?
As I wistfully sketched her face in the sky beyond the window, the office door burst open.
A familiar redhead bounced in.
"I'm new student Selbia. Heard there was someone from the tower, so I came to say hi... Mommy?!"
"Oh, nice to—"
"Wh-Why are you two here, no wait, you look busy, I'll come back later!"
The Crimson Magic Tower mage slammed the door and bolted.
I fell silent, then muttered cautiously,
"...Think we've got a bad misunderstanding?"
"Yes, young master."
"Sigh..."
It was spring.