Professor (2)
‘So they all came running to try and snag me, huh? Extremeism even went so far as to send Libiel over as an exchange student?’
They were all ridiculous.
I clicked my tongue inwardly and kept walking.
Trailing behind me in a line were Libiel, Lorang, and Mihaden.
We were heading to the welcome dinner for new initiates.
The name ‘Leonir’ kept circling in my mind.
‘If it ever comes out—even belatedly—that Demiph is still alive, what then? According to Kirchheis family rules, parental rights are an authority even the family head can’t touch lightly.’
And the biggest issue.
Did Leonir know about Demiph’s fake funeral?
He hadn’t attended back then, so there was no way to be sure.
‘No idea. No way to find out, either.’
It was complicated in all sorts of ways.
But from my position, I had no choice but to accept it for now.
Even as the grandson of the family head, the gap between an orphan and the legitimate heir was like heaven and earth.
It would certainly help a great deal in investigating Ulfrik’s traces and studying his weaknesses.
But you must consider that this makes things far more dangerous. Garnas, that second son, is the type to slaughter his own kin without hesitation. He’s stayed quiet only because he hasn’t felt the need yet.
As Rohbark’s legitimate firstborn, Leonir had the orthodox claim but no heir and specialized in swordsmanship over magic.
Garnas, the second son, had a weaker position but had inherited Rohbark’s magical talent, and he had several talented second-generation descendants.
The balance of power between them was roughly even, so no major conflicts had erupted yet.
But if I became Leonir’s adopted son, the scales would tip dramatically.
‘It’d be like a magically talented heir suddenly appearing out of nowhere.’
It would plug Leonir’s biggest weakness in one go.
Naturally, Garnas’s side would sense the crisis.
Hierniorn was worried about that.
As I’ve said many times, Garnas is a man who’ll do anything for his own gain. You’ll be free of his influence within Eternalism’s domain, but outside, you must be extra cautious.
On the side, there were plenty of incidental gains from this.
Libiel’s annual scholarship from Absolutism, as the exchange student, was a prime example of extra income.
It would go into her pocket, of course, but getting her to share wouldn’t be hard.
“Sh-share it? My scholarship? Why…?”
“Don’t like it? Fine, whatever. But I’ve got this vague feeling some exchange student’s gonna make it hard for me to focus on training. What now?”
“You robber…?”
No pangs of conscience.
Libiel got plenty of tuition from Tornil anyway—she didn’t need the scholarship.
And it was money she got thanks to me, right?
Seems like robbery to me.
Remember, even elixirs can be bought with money, Hiern.
I was just about to say how fortunate and happy this body’s master is to be such a robber…
You’re not denying the robbery part, huh?
One must acknowledge what’s true, no?
Tch.
Speechless, I shoved open the door and entered the banquet hall.
This underground spot in the mansion had once been a training ground.
Now a massive table dominated the center, where Biat Panayul and a dozen or so faction members awaited us.
“Come on in. Sit here.”
The dean was beaming as always.
I sat without a second thought.
But the kids on either side of me flinched.
“Uh…?”
“Mm…”
Especially Mihaden and Lorang.
Their eyes shook like there was an earthquake, fixed on the table.
Wondering what was up, I saw the food—and yeah, it looked shocking.
The roast turkey’s way overdone, the pickled fish has a weird color, the bread’s underbaked and gooey… And what’s that made with eggs?
They’d clearly tried hard, but the results were a disaster.
Libiel whispered to me, hiding her dismay.
“Hey, how do we eat this?”
“Just shut up and eat. It’s rude otherwise.”
“Who said anything about not eating? I asked how.”
But she just awkwardly poked at the salad.
Even that, she smeared around the plate because the sauce was off.
Hierniorn, perched on the table, let out a deep sigh.
I’d heard Eternalism’s finances were dire, but I didn’t know even the head chef was this useless. Tsk tsk…
That explained it.
No head chef, so faction members cooked themselves—hence the mess.
Mihaden and Libiel, as direct kin, had only eaten fine cuisine; Lorang came from a top house too, so this was alien to them.
But I was different.
Peel off the burnt bits, scrape the good parts from the weird colors—that’s it.
The underbaked bread and mystery egg dish needed some thought, but still.
Nothing was outright inedible.
Five hundred years ago, I went days chewing raw potatoes for meals.
Here you go with the old tales again.
Hierniorn shook his head and climbed onto my shoulder.
Who knew the finances were this bad?
Eternalism may be fallen, but it’s still a Kirchheis faction. How can it be this poor?
They needed budget just to maintain Ulfrik’s Eternal Forest and this mansion.
Chewing tough turkey, I tilted my head; Hierniorn answered.
That’s precisely Eternalism’s weakness. Managing Ulfrik’s legacies costs a fortune yearly. With disciples dwindling, how could finances not suffer?
The Kirchheis family doesn’t cover that? They revere Ulfrik as a Holy Hero, don’t they?
Rich houses’ vaults are the hardest to breach. Remember the Discipline Captain chasing us for one artifact?
I needed to think of something.
My body was in prime growth; meals had to be proper, at least.
Worst case, hire a chef with Libiel’s scholarship.
“…Why’re you staring like that? Your eyes look suspicious.”
Sensing the threat to her wallet, Libiel scowled and scooted away.
Too perceptive for a brat.
Then Biat spoke, looking at us.
“How’s the food?”
“Yes, Dean.”
“It’s delicious! So fresh and healthy!”
Libiel’s exaggerated praise made Panayul chuckle.
“You’re bad at lying. We cooked it ourselves, so it’s amateurish. Embarrassing, but think of it as a lesson. Learn to find value in imperfection—even if it’s forced.”
A lesson, huh.
Her words brought the five kids poking at their food into focus.
Initiates who’d inherit Eternalism’s ‘unique factor.’
Poor things walking a thorny path. It’s long proven that the Factor of Eternity is the hardest to pass on.
The unique factor was the source of each faction’s special power.
Factions preserved theirs to endure, passing it via unique curricula.
Eternalism’s factor manipulated time’s flow—terrifyingly potent, top-tier among all.
The problem: inheriting it was brutally hard.
Probably ten times harder than other factions.
Ten times? That all?
That’s the minimum estimate. Think it’s easy just because it’s time manipulation?
True enough.
The Factor of Eternity is tough even for the smartest initiates…
Hierniorn paused.
He eyed the disciples, shaking his head.
His assessment was harsh.
Every one’s eyes are rotten. They all want out of this thorny path. Not a shred of motivation. Tsk tsk…
I gave a wry smile.
Chewing it over, it was natural they lacked drive.
Eternalism was the weakest faction.
Talented kids? No—least talented doing the hardest training. Worst setup.
No results, no motivation inevitable.
They’re withering away, literally.
Well, with you joining, things’ll change a lot. Main family support’ll pour in, and with your skill, you’ll awaken the Factor quick—no need for all six years.
…
You know disciples who gain the unique factor become ‘researchers,’ not ‘trainees.’ Then you’re free, years irrelevant.
Hierniorn chattered excitedly, but I quietly scratched my forehead.
Truth be told, I had little interest in the faction’s plight.
I’d joined to probe Ulfrik’s legacy, after all.
And above all—
Hiern, the Factor of Eternity doesn’t seem that special to me.
What…? What do you mean? It’s time manipulation—how’s that not special?
If it let you hasten, stop, or rewind time, sure, I’d be tempted. But it doesn’t, does it?
Awakening the Factor of Eternity just slowed time’s flow—a bit.
Considering the effort, the efficiency was nil.
Not appealing for someone with a long road ahead.
Then what? You gonna rot your eyes like them and waste six years killing time?
Of course not. I’m not wasting time.
Then what’s your plan?
‘The Kirchheis Seven Riddles.’
I answered simply; the phoenix furrowed his brow.
What did you say…? What riddle?
One of the inscrutable problems passed down in this house. Solve it, and I skip straight to elder level like Elman—no researcher status needed.
Hierniorn’s eyes changed in an instant.
The sulky bird suddenly leaped up and pecked my crown with his beak.
You madman! Don’t! You gonna waste your second life on useless nonsense? That’s the real time sink!
…
Hey! Drop that arrogant glare! No! This body told you it’s impossible!
Only Ulfrik, five hundred years ago, had solved a Seven Riddle.
Hierniorn’s freakout proved how tough it was.
But the achievement was monumental—perfect footing for free rein here.
Hiern, I have to get as strong as Ulfrik anyway. Gotta conquer his feats too, right?
If only your mouth didn’t make it so hateable…
Meanwhile, Dean Panayul introduced the five disciples one by one.
All collaterals or outsiders, eyes showing curiosity, wariness, indifference, subtle hostility, faint goodwill.
First trainee to choose Eternalism willingly—they’re curious about me.
No need to mind them now.
I exchanged cursory glances and focused on picking edible bread.
Then the banquet hall doors opened again.
A man in pristine white robes trudged in.
“Sorry I’m late, Dean.”
Odd drawl at sentence ends.
Smiling, but eyes sharp.
The dean beamed and introduced him.
“Schud Rapens. Your homeroom professor for Eternalism basics.”
Oh! This body knows that name. One of the few Eternalism mages who gained fame…
Hierniorn’s voice trailed off ominously as he rummaged memories.
Silence, then—
Famous for grueling drills like meals. Basics-obsessed personality. You lot might be in trouble.
…Damn it all.