The Academy Slave Instructor
Zeroa stared at the girl being harassed.
He had noticed her the moment she first tried to slip away, her small frame trembling like it might topple over with the slightest touch. The academy welcomed students at fifteen, but even the most celebrated prodigy—Violet—had only managed to enter one year early. Some who failed entrance exams returned the following year; others simply aged a bit more or less depending on their circumstances. Fifteen remained the average.
At an age when everyone was growing rapidly, two or three extra years made the difference between “looks a bit young” and “she looks like she might break if you even nudged her.” Her tiny face, enormous eyes that took up most of it, and hair the soft shade of mint-green only amplified her delicate, adorable charm. The twin-tails tied with soft ribbons only strengthened that girl-like image.
Zeroa couldn’t stay still. The girl’s eyes were filled with pure fear, and he couldn’t look away.
“You’re freshmen?”
Anyone speaking to first-years like that at the academy clearly wasn’t one himself.
The students harassing her stiffened, exchanging quick glances without a word. But their pretense didn’t last long.
The girl who had been bullying her finally turned, her expression twisting into something arrogant.
At the academy, the uniform was optional. It was only formal attire for graduation or public events. As long as a student wore any badge or coat, no one bothered them. In other words, wearing the uniform immediately revealed your family background.
Zeroa’s uniform was the most luxurious of the set he owned, so of course he never wore it. His other clothes were modest at best—well below middle-class standards. Noble families were disappearing, but people still enjoyed ranking by wealth or reputation. The fresh-faced girl in front of him wore showy, expensive clothing that screamed “wealthy commoner family.”
First-years often dressed flamboyantly; upperclassmen preferred comfort and practicality. The endless lectures and training made flashy outfits impractical—bodies moved too much, and expensive clothes tore after only a few days. Even the richest families couldn’t afford to replace them constantly. Pride was high at the beginning, but after the novelty faded, clothing became simpler and simpler.
Zeroa’s clothes were the comfortable training set he owned. With his limited budget, he couldn’t afford more than a handful, and the ones he rotated through had already seen better days.
The freshman had instantly figured out his background. Not a noble. Not even a prominent family. In fact, being a commoner at the prestigious Legandia Academy made him seem pitiful.
“Didn’t catch your name, but you can go your own way, right?”
Zeroa knew she wasn’t a freshman, but he had no intention of being respectful to someone beneath him.
“Why are you picking on her?”
Zeroa was no longer the timid boy he had been last year. He still doubted his own strength, but he wasn’t so weak that fear would make him turn away from injustice. Seeing the girl being tormented reminded him of his little sister Kara, and he couldn’t stay silent.
“You can’t understand words? Even if you’re noble?”
“Watch your mouth, upperclassman.”
“Upperclassman? Upperclassman~ That’s hilarious. You wanted to be treated as one? Well, this is what I think of that.”
The freshmen snickered, but Zeroa’s expression didn’t change. This kind of mockery was the equivalent of a million lessons for him. The freshmen were actually kind of cute.
Yet the girl being bullied shrank even smaller, believing the supposed savior had abandoned her.
Zeroa couldn’t bear it. He stepped forward and warned the freshmen.
“Whatever’s going on, you should stop.”
“Ooh— a hero has arrived! Mia, it’s so unfair~ The hero came to save you!”
The girl’s name was apparently Mia.
One of the freshmen slapped her shoulder and laughed loudly. Mia flinched, eyes wide, then lowered her head.
Zeroa’s brows furrowed as he prepared to intervene.
“Zeroa, what are you doing over there?”
Zeroa turned. Aslan and Rai stood together, both holding large envelopes full of snacks. Rai already had something in his mouth.
They had bought food outside while waiting for Zeroa.
The once-boastful freshmen suddenly looked pale. Of course. The kind of people who secretly bullied others were always weak in front of real strength.
A teacher and a thug. The sudden appearance of two people who were nothing short of poison to first-years was natural.
Even though they were freshmen, they had been at the academy long enough to recognize Rai’s face. A single glance at Rai was enough to make one think twice. And beside him stood someone even more terrifying—Rai’s monstrous eyes, the kind that could scare the devil himself, paired with a body that radiated raw intimidation just by standing still.
The freshmen trembled the moment they saw them.
One of the students, driven by desperation, bolted. The others hesitated for a second before following, running away together.
They were still tormenting Mia, but in their terror they forgot that the same students would simply catch up with them later.
Aslan, who had no idea what was happening, felt a pang in his chest when he saw the freshmen fleeing at the sight of him.
“What’s wrong?”
Rai, with a pie in his mouth, asked Zeroa. Zeroa gave him the only information he had: the freshmen had been picking on Mia.
Rai chewed the pie, eyes drifting toward the cowering Mia.
She avoided everyone’s gaze.
It was like taking the timid part of last year’s Zeroa and multiplying it by ten.
“Do you like pie?”
“Y-yes, y-yes, yesss—”
Before Mia could even finish answering, Rai pulled out a blueberry pie and popped it into her mouth.
He grabbed the back of her collar, lifted her like a sack, and tossed her over his shoulder, heading home.
“Is this kidnapping?”
“This is a student consultation with your teacher’s discretion. The kidnapping part is your choice of face.”
“You suddenly charge in like that.”
“Consultation? I didn’t ask if you wanted to come. It’s basically kidnapping.”
Plus, with a pie stuffed in her mouth and dangling over his shoulder, it looked criminal depending on how you saw it.
Zeroa smiled reassuringly at Mia, who was still wide-eyed and confused.
* * *
“I can’t forgive this. What’s your name?”
Philia stood up from her seat and asked for the ringleaders’ names after hearing Mia’s entire story.
“Let’s go.”
Aslan agreed and rose as well.
The empire valued honor above all, especially personal honor. Petty acts would never be tolerated.
“What are you going to do? Beat them up a few times and the situation will improve? They’ll just bully her even more secretly.”
Even while discussing serious matters, Rai was lounging comfortably, picking up snacks and eating. Mia’s face darkened as she imagined what would happen next.
“Don’t worry. Once the cause is gone, so is the result.”
Philia smiled coldly.
It could mean expulsion from the academy or even erasing them from the world entirely. Mia looked at her with fear in her eyes.
“I didn’t think that far, but I agree with you, Philia. Those kinds of people need their minds fixed.”
Aslan punched his fist into his palm.
Rai laughed. “Two people who were kicked out of their family say that? People with no family prestige can’t do anything with their fists.”
“I didn’t get kicked out. I left on my own.”
Philia’s face twisted in disgust, but Aslan stood tall and insisted it was his choice.
Whether he liked it or not, the two of them going would achieve nothing more than intimidation. Informing the academy wouldn’t help either—the bullying would simply become more subtle, and Mia would be branded as the weak one. She might receive pity and care, but in an academy that prized personal strength, that label was terrible.
Mia. Full name: Mia Istvan.
Daughter of Baron Istvan, a first-year who had just entered the academy.
She was noble, but her family wasn’t particularly powerful, so in this era where status was fading, she was in a worse position than even wealthy commoner families.
Despite being less skilled than the other freshmen, Mia had passed thanks to her exceptional talent.
She had been overjoyed to pass the academy she had failed to enter, but the fact that talent—not skill—had gotten her in stuck in her ankle.
The other freshmen had even accused her of cheating because of her lack of real ability.
The people who had spread that rumor were the freshmen who had been tormenting her.
With the decline of status, arrogant wealthy commoner families had appeared. They harbored inferiority toward nobles, so they despised anyone who simply received noble treatment without earning it. Children raised by families that hated nobles for no reason adopted the same attitude.
Ironically, they couldn’t even look the powerful nobles in the eye, but Istvan was the perfect target for their hatred.
Whether it was fate or coincidence, in the marching practice of the first semester, Mia was placed in the same group as them.
This was the conversation Zeroa had overheard:
“Get out of the group. You’re dragging all of us down because of you.”
These words, meant to belittle her ability while mocking her family and accusing her of being the reason for everything, broke Mia down further and further.
“My nickname is Tank…”
As she kept talking, Mia calmed down and stared sadly at the floor.
When everyone focused on her, Aslan muttered,
“You’re not tank-sized.”
His quiet voice reached everyone.
Their gazes turned to Mia, who was startled by the attention and quickly covered her chest.
Even by Aslan’s standards, she wasn’t tank-sized. Her chest was small because of her tiny frame.
But even if it was true, some things should never be said out loud.
“You’re amazing. One day you’ll be caught by some pervert. You didn’t get chased for nothing.”
“No, I wasn’t saying tha—”
Rai raised his thumb and praised her. Aslan panicked and tried to backtrack, but once the words were out, they couldn’t be taken back.
Even those who hadn’t meant to say them—Philia, Abigail, and even Zeroa—looked at him with contempt or shock.
Mia, seeing Aslan’s head lower in apology, felt embarrassed. Aslan immediately bowed.
“Sorry. It was a slip of the tongue. It’s not small. It’s actually perfect for one hand—”
“Don’t say any more,” Rai cut in before Aslan could finish, watching Mia’s face crumple like she might cry.
In the heavy silence, Rai casually pulled out another snack and asked,
“So what’s a tank?”
“… … Mana Tank.”
Mia’s talent was mana.
Her mana reserves far exceeded those of other people. As an adult who had only just reached full power, she possessed more mana than even frontline pure mages.
The problem was she couldn’t control it.
The others tilted their heads, thinking this was the first time they had heard of mana control problems. Rai watched Mia with genuine interest.
Mia had experienced both reactions.
People who praised her talent, people who didn’t understand, and eventually everyone who left felt disappointment. No one could control her, so they all left, and Mia slowly lost confidence.
At the academy, she had hoped for a solution. The responsible teacher had simply declined to help, saying her case was too unusual.
Mia stared at the floor with a gloomy expression.
Then she looked up, startled, when Rai’s face entered her field of vision while crawling on the ground.
Whether she was startled or not, Rai smiled brightly and said,
“Want me to fix that?”
“Really?”
She had heard the common phrase “let’s think about it together,” but never someone offering to solve her problem so confidently.
Rai’s playful face didn’t inspire trust, but Mia had nothing left to lose.