Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: You Shouldn't Have Done That
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(2)
4.
With the bell signaling the start of the lecture.
Professor Direk turned his body.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Direk Orminu, the instructor for 'Understanding and Detection of Mana Flow.'"
Following that brief introduction.
His dry gaze swept across the room.
"Some of you I recognize from the aptitude exam, others not so much, but rest easy. I don't play favorites with only the talented ones."
No sooner had he spoken.
Than sighs of relief rose here and there.
It was only natural. Among Arsen Academy's five faculties, the magic faculty had a reputation for extreme favoritism toward those with talent.
Professor Direk, however, was the opposite.
He didn't particularly like talented mages. The reason was simple: he himself possessed no such talent.
In short, it stemmed from an inferiority complex.
Thus, he was far more accustomed to biased hatred than favoritism. And this time, that hatred was set to pour out onto the clueless barbarian, Ullan.
"...That concludes the schedule for the first semester. Any questions?"
After wrapping up the explanation of the upcoming lectures. Professor Direk scanned the room. With no questions forthcoming, he spoke again.
"If not, I'll pose one myself."
The professor's abrupt question.
The students reacted with heightened tension.
But they had no need to tense up. The question wasn't aimed at them anyway.
"The purpose of this lecture is to understand and explore mana flow. So, what do you believe is the ultimate goal of such study?"
"......"
The classroom fell into heavy silence.
An expected response. It was a common trait among academy freshmen.
Tension from the unfamiliar environment, perhaps?
Freshmen tended not to speak unless certain of the answer.
"Disappointing. No one knows?"
With brows slightly furrowed.
Professor Direk set his plan in motion.
"No helping it, then. I'll have to ask the top admittee, student Ullan."
The instant he finished.
All eyes turned to Ullan.
"What are your thoughts? Why seek to understand and explore mana flow?"
Right after the question.
He smirked inwardly in triumph.
He didn't even need the answer; it was obvious. He'd surely say it was to locate magic beast cores.
'But that's a simplistic response.'
An obvious answer anyone could give without attending the academy. Thus, Professor Direk planned his retort.
「Not wrong, but disappointing. One more chance—give me something worthy of a top admittee, not the obvious.」
Then keep questioning until Ullan's shallow knowledge was laid bare.
In essence, to expose that the top admittee was no genius after all, utterly ignorant of magic. That was Professor Direk's aim.
'Come on, spit it out.'
That would spell your end.
Just as Professor Direk's lips twisted.
The reply came.
"Mana Spring, Arsen."
A steady, unshaken voice.
Like the spring breeze drifting through the courtyard, it softly filled the lecture hall.
"To precisely pinpoint the origin of the mana surging from its central depths."
Immediately after the answer landed.
Professor Direk furrowed his brow.
Not from Ullan, but a third party. And nearly a perfect response at that.
'...And who the hell is that?'
His plan to humiliate Ullan thwarted, his eyes flashed with fury.
The bold challenger was the black-haired girl beside Ullan, glaring daggers at Professor Direk.
Noa.
Right after her words.
The lecture hall's atmosphere chilled, as if doused in ice water.
As it should.
Not only had she answered for the targeted Ullan, she stared down the professor head-on.
As quiet silence lingered.
Noa observed Professor Direk's face.
'His intentions are plain as day.'
He held a grudge against Ullan.
Proof: from the moment he entered, he'd eyed Ullan with clear disdain.
Likely resented the fluke S-rank in the aptitude exam he oversaw.
'Wanted to put him on the spot.'
In the original game, Professor Direk was portrayed with towering pride and inferiority.
Envious of the talented, hateful of any who crossed him.
The poster child for pettiness.
Even the root of his midterms transformation—swallowed by mana into a monster—tied back to that complex.
'Planned to leave him be until midterms, but...'
Messing with Ullan changed everything.
Simple reason.
Noa had recommended this lecture to Ullan. Her minimum duty: shield him from fallout.
'When Direk turns monster later, we'll need Ullan's help anyway.'
So until then, full support for Ullan. Resolve hardened in Noa's blue eyes.
Then, a voice shattered the hush.
"And who might you be?"
Professor Direk's voice.
Laced with displeasure.
"I asked the Ullan student beside you, not you."
"Ah, sorry. It was so basic anyone could've answered, I just blurted it out..."
Noa flashed an awkward smile.
Infuriatingly cheeky. Professor Direk's frown deepened, naturally.
'My question was basic?'
Basic enough for anyone?
A brief scoff escaped. Absurdity pure. Soon, rage flickered in his eyes.
'True, some kids like that pop up.'
Often among freshmen.
Desperate to flaunt scraps of knowledge, arrogant bids for attention.
'Wait... she looks familiar.'
Where from? Professor Direk dredged his memory. Then it clicked.
'Right, Noa Darshen.'
During his visit to Count Dermore's estate.
Head butler Alond had mentioned her: the black-haired girl entering academy with Ullan.
'Ah, it fits now.'
Same tribe as Ullan.
Smarter Noa stepping in to shield her tribesman.
His near-certain hunch complete.
Professor Direk's eyes sharpened viciously.
'Before grilling Ullan...'
First, gut that girl's foundations.
With a hunter's predatory gleam, he nodded faintly.
"Ah, my error. You're right. Basic enough for anyone."
After conceding Noa's point.
He cut straight to it, unhesitating.
"Then, shall we up the ante with mage-only questions? Fine by you?"
"Yes, go ahead."
Noa accepted eagerly.
What she wanted.
Thus began their exchange.
Starting with mana flow basics and theory, but escalating in difficulty over time.
Questions impossible without prior mana flow lectures. Yet Noa breezed through.
All correct.
By now, Professor Direk grasped it.
Something off.
'But...'
Couldn't stop now.
Retreating meant defeat. Lips bitten tight, he forced the words.
"Truly remarkable. A freshman grasping mana flow this deeply."
"You overpraise."
Noa smiled in reply.
Stifling the spit-take urge, he lobbed his ace.
"One final question, then."
Unsolvable without lifelong mana flow devotion or raw genius.
"This classroom holds four mana sources total. Can you trace their flows' origins?"
Direct mana flow reading.
Impossible sans visual mana observation talent.
'Some can, mind.'
Direk, lifetime researcher; Dean Deplin Chernio, grand mage; prodigy Dilia Arpen.
Anyway, game's end for her.
Professor Direk was certain. But five seconds post-question, certainty crumbled.
"Back door, adjacent window, ceiling center, podium top, and beneath your left sole, Professor."
"......!?"
His smug mask shattered.
Professor Direk eyed his left foot.
Focusing: faint mana flow, source. Fifth one he'd missed.
Horror dawned in his gaze.
Expected. Such prowess at her age? Talent alone explained it.
Realization hit.
Grind!
Lips clenched bloody tight. Inferiority surged forth.
"Impressive. Utterly so."
Voice strained, emotions reined.
He glared murderously at Noa.
"But it raises questions."
"Pardon? Questions?"
"You scarce need my lectures. Here to flaunt talent and smarts? Then get out ri—"
He meant to say.
Noa beat him.
"I have much left to learn."
"What? Lacking?"
"Yes. Hence the enrollment for deeper insight. You're far superior, Professor. Right?"
Noa beamed inquiringly.
Caught in it, Professor Direk inwardly reeled.
'...Played.'
Blood ran cold.
Fitting.
Deny, and admit inferiority to her.
Affirm, and brace for fallout.
Dilemma brief.
Pride fused with complex reared up.
"Hm! Ahem! Naturally."
Professor Direk coughed theatrically, nodding.
Masking fluster with bluster.
"Very well. Deep teachings as desired."
"Great, can't wait."
Noa grinned victoriously.
Goal achieved.
Storm passed.
Familiar bell tolled.
Lecture's end. Professor Direk addressed the class.
"Class dismissed. Next time on schedule—bring texts properly. That's all."
Words done, he bolted. Direk gone, every eye locked on Noa.
Unease, irritation, suspicion, envy.
Negative gazes galore.
Whispers swelled.
"Lucky knowing it all."
"Had to grandstand that hard?"
"Tch, barbarians gonna barbarian."
"No manners drilled in."
Overt loathing, jealousy.
Noa's frame shuddered.
Lip bit lightly, she nestled into Ullan's shoulder.
"Noa?"
"...Sorry. Just a moment like this."
Tiny hand clutched his arm.
Faint quiver transmitted. Ullan queried, puzzled.
"What's wrong? Hurt?"
"No. Just... not used to stares."
Trembling voice laced with inexplicable dread. Why fear gazes so? Unknown. But clear:
Noa like this.
From students' eyes.
'Eliminate the source, then.'
Decided.
Ullan's eyes turned savage. Battlefield veteran's glare, decades honed.
No mere students withstand.
"......!?"
Skin crawled.
Thus.
Noa-glarers blanched, stampeding out.
All gone.
Noa recovered.
"Whew, thanks. Fine now."
"Sure?"
"See? Good as new."
Noa pointed smiling to arm.
Tremors ceased fully. Cure worked.
Ullan shook head.
"Not that."
"Hm? What then?"
"Grateful for the help, but drawing prof's ire onto you..."
"Nah, fine. Used to hate."
Noa beamed.
Sad-tinged smile. Yet shrugged casually.
"Anyway, promise, right? Help if you're in a bind."
True.
En route to Mana Spring field trip, lugging her burdens.
Memory stirred, Ullan bowed.
"Was a big help. Thanks."
"Psh, nothing."
She replied beaming.
Sudden racket.
Grrroooowl!
Ullan's gut demanding fuel.
"Lunchtime perfect. Eat before next class?"
"Sure."
En route to cafeteria.
Noa queried offhand.
"Oh, next lecture?"
"Practical Hunt."
Stella's practical hunt.
Venue: East Forest, oddly.
5.
East of freshman dorm, Spring Pavilion.
Sprawls vast forest.
Jungle miniature, believable. For hunts, tracking, mock wars.
Post-lunch.
Ullan reached East Forest.
Lecture imminent, prof absent.
"Prof late?"
"Cancel maybe?"
"Day one? Nah."
"Just delayed."
Students speculated.
Ullan unmoved.
Practical hunt's Stella: present far pre-bell.
Exactly: atop massive tree.
Lounging, student-watching.
'What there?'
Presence nullified clean.
Ullan baffled.
Sudden eye-lock with Stella.
"......!"
Stella startled.
Grinned, finger-to-nose: hush.
'Intent unknown, but...'
Reasons aplenty.
Ignored.
She'd surface timely. As scanning surrounds, ear tingled.
"Ullan."
Soft echo.
Ullan turned wordless.
Silver-haired wide-hat girl. Spotted him, faint smile.
Dilia Arpen.
Ullan startled.
Straightforward: mage in hunt class? Unexpected.
Sole robed mage amid peers: her.
"You, why..."
Hunt signup?
Stepped query.
Then.
Sasssh!
Dilia retreated swift.
Eh? Ullan neared.
Same.
"Why flee?"
Ullan cocked head.
Reply prompt.
"...Yesterday, that thing, happened."
"Thing?"
"Still embarrassed."
Pale cheeks pinked faintly. Aware, hat-veiled face.
Ullan perplexed.
Nothing embarrassing in prior chat.
'Missed something?'
Rummaging recall.
Crunch!
Leaf-rustle, bits fell overhead.
Presence-veiled Stella dropped groundward.
"Phew, all here now."
"......!?"
No-warning arrival?
Students jumped.
"P-Professor?"
"There the whole time?!"
"Yup, drunk heavy yesterday."
Stella yawned vast.
Students dazed.
Drunk-to-tree link? Nil.
"Waited see if any sensed me. Nope."
Awkward class laughs.
Obvious.
Stella Natalia. Eastern jungle legend hunter.
Solo 7-star slay: mythic still.
Students detect that? Laughable.
Joke taken.
But.
Stella sly-smiled.
"One exception."
Golden eyes pinned Ullan.
Students gawked about. Who? Unfindable. Ullan stoic.
"Alright, lecture time?"
Mood reset.
Stella beamed.