Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: 아카데미 최강의 매점아저씨-65화
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: While Away (6)
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I'd seen it on the internet when I was a kid. The rush from gambling is supposedly just a step below drugs.
I don't know if that's true, but one thing's for sure: getting a gambler to quit is damn near impossible—even after they've lost everything.
So I didn't press Lehel when she asked for time to think. Better to shed pounds gradually than crash-diet anyway. If my words had sunk in, she'd hold back a little.
The next day.
When I opened my eyes in the plush bed, Lehel was sitting on the sofa beside me. Her hair looked a bit frizzy, like she hadn't slept a wink, but she greeted me with her usual cheer.
"Ah, sleep well, Boss? Heading back to the academy today, right?"
"Yeah, gotta go. But you didn't sleep?"
"Haha, too much on my mind."
Yeah, right in the thick of it.
After checkout, I stepped outside and gazed at the barren sand canyon, waiting for Lehel to cast her spell.
"Alright, let's go."
But she didn't chant a thing—just started walking. Baffled, I hurried after her, and the obvious question slipped out.
"Not coming? Bartudis is blanketed in fog that messes with mana flow, so no teleporting. But it's not far."
"Where's Bartudis?"
"You didn't know? You followed Baldur's Nightmare yesterday, right?"
I had no clue who Baldur even was. Lehel scanned my face and gave a light laugh, like it all made sense.
"Baldur was the first Illusion Duke."
"Illusion Duke?"
"Yeah. Well, they weren't called dukes back then, but he was one hell of a guy."
"And now?"
"Dead, obviously. Baldur's Nightmare is what's left of him."
Lehel explained the bizarre happenings in the Bartudis region.
They called it Phantom Murder—people swallowed by illusions formed from past remnants, never to return.
"The previous Illusion Duke, Saya, built Pekda Magic Tower to manage the nightmares. She ended up dying in the Great War herself."
"So two Illusion Dukes? The unique magic gets passed down?"
"Yeah, several in between. But I don't know how. Definitely not bloodline like the Roshiars—there were long gaps too."
"Hmm..."
So the Illusion Duke's unique magic gets inherited somehow. Whatever.
Mareil's notes did mention demon statues popping up more in Bartudis. To hunt the bastards spreading them, I'd have to check out Pekda Magic Tower—nightmares or not.
"Still, academy first."
But I planned to swing by the canteen anyway. Proper demon statue digging would take ages, and I'd told Liv and Adella I'd be back quick. Plus, leave some gambling winnings behind.
"Oh, right. You're tight with Adella, huh? Bet you're curious about the other Grand Dukes. Nasty-tempered one still kicking in Penheim? The Gourmet Duke at Megrez Magic Tower..."
Lehel ignored me, kept walking, rattling off everything she knew about Penheim's five Grand Dukes.
I listened quietly, but nothing jumped out. If anything, the Snow Duke's unique magic freezing time once.
Hot as hell, itching to get home... that's when her steps halted dead.
"...And finally, the Reincarnation Duke."
"The Chairman?"
"Want an interesting tidbit about me?"
Lehel pressed a hand to her chest.
"My time's running backwards right now."
"I loved that movie too."
"Movie? No idea what you mean, but this isn't a joke—it's real."
She wore a pensive look, pondering where to begin. I chugged water from my canteen and plopped down.
"I use my unique magic to alternate between two lives, faking immortality. Simple terms: as old age nears death, time reverses, and I get younger."
"Then age forward again after?"
"Spot on. And each use accelerates this body's clock. Hey, Boss—how old do I look?"
I crossed my arms, sizing up Lehel.
White hair, but full and vibrant—not streaked gray—made her seem younger. Petite frame, smaller than Adella. Mid-twenties tops...
"Mid-twenties?"
"Aw, higher. Twenty-two."
"Third-year age, then?"
"Yep."
She twirled a lock casually.
"And like I said, backwards now. Get the implication?"
"Few unique magic casts left."
"Bingo! Sharp as ever!"
"What if it keeps reversing?"
"I'll bail the academy first. Gotta enter the Cradle."
"Cradle?"
"'Sacrea Dragon's Nest' ring a bell?"
"That's..."
One of the Empire's four hidden wonders. Secret vault packed with treasures hoarded before the fall. Where she wrapped one life and rebooted the next.
My eyes locked on her rosary. Supreme magic tool from dragon bone, right?
"Oh, secret's out? Just for you, Boss."
"..."
Now it clicked why she'd spill.
"Next life's when?"
"Twenty years minimum, maybe more. World'll be different when I emerge."
"Magic left?"
"Burned tons in the Great War—one for sure, two if lucky."
"..."
"So, about yesterday... sorry."
In other words, any need for unique magic, and poof—from the academy.
The deep furrow under her battered conical hat wasn't just harsh sun casting shadows.
"Quitting gambling... I'll try. But time's short—no guarantees."
"Fine by me."
I shrugged to ease her.
"Worst case, next life. I'll be older, but we fix it then."
"Boss..."
She beamed, touched, nodding like mad.
"One more day, then?"
"Wanna go broke?"
Back to Pharenchia we went.
"B-Big trouble, nya! My newlywed home...!!"
Adella's hysterics snapped Liv back. Her mind still reeled.
Boss? Married? No—dating? Roshiar's second daughter...?
Impossible. Canteen schlub and North Sea dynasty. Even star-crossed love had limits.
Nah, that ditzy mage's spouting nonsense solo. As Liv clung to denial, two iron hounds burst from the canteen corner.
Kiiing! Nang!
—What, you two? Skin and bones already?
Louis was back. Adella and shell-shocked Liv gawked at the gaping second-floor hole.
Liv's redirected silver had detonated in Louis's digs, shredding the place.
He'd blow a fuse. But first, Liv needed dating confirmation.
"Teacheeer~!"
"Hm? Out already? Wrapped up early."
Liv dodged glass shards to open the door. Louis clocked the wreckage and ceiling crater.
"Here. Those Sandalphonia mud cookies you wanted..."
Thud.
Black bag hit the floor. Louis's face made Liv backpedal on instinct.
"..."
He stepped in slow, froze before the debris pile.
Odd junk from upstairs: black iron sheets, rubber bands. Snack-crumb wood models, botched handmade cloth.
Most too trashed to ID.
"...What happened?"
Voice flat as death.
Adella jabbed at Liv.
"Teacher! Hear me out! This baroness called me worthless..."
"You two?"
"T-Teacher...?"
Even she sensed the ice. Still reached tentative.
"Oh, yeah. Nailed that unique magic you mentioned. Bit raw still..."
"Out."
"Huh?"
Adella gaped at his pointed door. Blue eyes quivering—Liv saw it.
"T-Tea..."
"Out."
No third warning. His lethal edge chased shell-shocked Adella out.
Liv alone now.
Louis bypassed her wordless to the counter, sparked a smoke. White haze walled them off.
Cutoff sign—also gaze cover. Liv scraped up courage.
"...Boss."
Anger expected, not this rage. She knew zilch of that rebuilt nook's hold on him—memories reborn.
"You and Adella..."
"Liv Baroness, out."
Her words sliced mid-sentence.
Chill voice carved her heart. Still, she pushed—lest the wound fester.
"Dating Adella?"
"Your business how, Baroness?"
Stabbed deep.
"And wrecking my canteen—your business how."
Hurt worse.
"Out."
Liv booted sans confession shot.
"Tonight's off."
Last hope—severed.
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