Crashing the Academy Interview
The early dawn light was just beginning to crest the horizon as I woke up far earlier than usual. I tidied my messy bedhead with a quick cleaning spell.
“Ahhyo~...”
I threw on some clothes haphazardly, dragged my heavy body out of bed, and hopped straight out the window onto the street outside the inn.
The reason I'd gotten up so ridiculously early was simple. The academy had insisted on seeing me in person, no matter what.
Just the recommendation letters should've been enough—why drag me in for an interview...?
Yawning my way toward the academy, I rubbed my half-open eyes.
What do they usually even ask in these things?
I tried to brainstorm some likely questions. Academy... guest lecturer...
“Eh, I'll just wing it and do fine.”
Using my brain this early in the morning was a pain. I shut off my thoughts and stepped out onto the main avenue.
—Whummm.
I glanced around to check for onlookers, then pushed the air beneath my feet away.
My body slowly lifted into the air.
I soared higher than the inn's roof, scanning the area.
Luckily, the academy was right in the capital's heart—not far from my inn at all.
Expensive inns do have their perks.
“Still such a hassle...”
Even knowing I had to do it, laziness kept creeping in. Sighing and yawning nonstop, I dove toward the academy below.
****
The academy's staff interview room was rarely used in normal circumstances. After all, anyone worthy of a position at the Solraum Imperial Academy was a monster through and through—retired war heroes or wizened mages who'd devoted decades to research in the Magic Tower.
Forcing an interview on such figures would be outright rude from a noble's perspective, so it was basically a dead space. More like a lounge for quiet tea chats.
But today...
“Hoho. Why the long faces, everyone?”
Academy Chancellor Oswald von Dain, seated in the central chair, let out a hearty laugh.
“...We should still scrutinize the recommendation letters thoroughly, shouldn't we?”
Beside him sat Dean of Academic Affairs Kaira and Belias, representing the Golden Light Magic Tower.
Tch...
The Mage of Welcome, Kaira—her epithet notwithstanding—was a staunch stickler for rules. Her finger tapping the interviewee's file on the desk betrayed clear irritation.
For a guest lecturer at the academy, the resume was laughably thin. Fallen noble house, zero academic record.
Of course, she knew who the two recommenders were. An Elmaster hailed as the finest mage in nearly two centuries. And the North's mage who'd recently rocked the academic world.
But a brilliant mentor didn't guarantee a skilled student.
Parachute drop, plain and simple.
It screamed connections over competence.
“What do you think of this interview, Lord Belias?”
Oswald stroked his beard, shooting Belias a curious glance.
“Well, I suppose we'll know once we see with our own eyes.”
Even as he spoke, resentment burned in Belias's eyes.
He was the Golden Light Magic Tower's power player and the imperial mage. The tower master's seat should've been his—were it not for that freak Elmaster.
Who does she think she is...?
He recalled analyzing the North's levitating cart in the tower's conference room. How the tower master had humiliated him, with the Elmaster pointing out his every mistake in front of green juniors.
She knew it herself, but his grudge arrowed toward the nameless Northern mage. Easier to hate an unknown than an untouchable Elmaster.
The cart was just a fluke. Belias clung to that.
As Belias ground his teeth in secret, Oswald shot glances at both sides and pushed up his glasses with a finger.
“Hoho...”
He let out a hollow chuckle.
With the mood like this before the interviewee even arrived... This interview wouldn't be smooth. He'd have to draft those letters to the Golden Light Tower and the North carefully.
Thinking that, he sat quietly, awaiting the young mage named Ruen.
That was when urgent footsteps—thud thud—echoed outside the door.
Hearing them, the three imagined Ruen: Kaira pictured a cocky young man, Belias a hunched dwarf.
Wonder what she'll really be like.
But as the door creaked open, in walked a familiar face.
“P-Please be careful!!”
An academy staffer burst in, pointing at the window and shouting.
“What in the—BOOM!!”
Oswald's words drowned in a shattering crash.
All three whipped toward the sound.
The spot the staffer indicated was rubble. Not just the window—the entire outer wall.
“Ugh, seriously...”
As the dusty cloud cleared, a silver-haired little girl appeared.
Maybe ten years old, tops.
She dusted off her robe's knees with the back of her hand.
Her gaze then locked on the three interviewers.
“This the staff interview room, right?”
As she spoke, her other hand caressed the air.
A fierce mana surge followed, aimed at the broken wall.
It enveloped the debris, pieces snapping back to their spots.
The outer wall reformed, pristine as before.
Unmistakable magic.
Casually reining in the mana flow, the girl stomped her foot in frustration.
“No fair... I showed them this letter and the guards still wouldn't believe me...”
In her right hand: Oswald's personal interview invitation.
Tiny girl clutching the invite. Divine magic just shown.
The meaning was clear.
This child was today's interviewee: Ruen.
“...Um, hello?”
Cold silence blanketed the room.
Kaira, who'd scorned her as a 'parachute,' and Belias, seething with hate—both gaped, frozen.
All three were mages.
Wall repair spells were common. But Ruen's was different.
In seconds, dozens of shards returned on perfect trajectories. Not a speck of dust left—the wall gleamed cleaner than before.
Chancellor Oswald recovered first.
He adjusted his monocle. His smile deepened noticeably.
“Hoho... As expected of a disciple of your esteemed master. Choosing the wall over the door—was that to point out a security flaw?”
“Huh? No, the guards wouldn't budge no matter what I said, so I flew in to avoid being late.”
Ruen stretched casually and answered offhand.
But that nonchalance stabbed Belias like a dagger.
She looked barely ten, yet her file said under thirty. That 'flew in.' The levitating cart footage he'd reviewed thousands of times.
He didn't want to believe it, but the mana flow matched—the spell that floated the cart.
Magic even he couldn't comprehend.
Me? Losing to that brat?
Belias's trembling hand crumpled the file before him.
Ignoring him, Ruen plopped into the empty front seat.
“I didn't make you wait, right?”
“Of course not. Right on time.”
Kaira's eyebrow twitched at Ruen's smug grin.
She'd lived for this academy faculty role. Endless effort led to dean of academic affairs.
Ruen's attitude grated like pure arrogance.
“Miss Ruen Eterno. Your magical precision is beyond doubt. But a guest lecturer isn't just about personal prowess.”
“Hoho...”
Oswald frowned at the overt jab.
Undeterred, Kaira pressed on.
“Can you logically explain the operating principle of that repair incantation you used?”
She was certain.
Prodigies like that relied on intuition. Theory-poor geniuses flunked as educators.
But Ruen didn't answer—instead levitating the quill from the desk.
“It's simple. Reverse-calculate the fragments' mass and acceleration, sync mana to the coordinates.”
Ruen grabbed the quill, scribbling her spell's formula in the air.
The North mage's use of natural mana was public knowledge. Her sole standout trait.
Yet her disciple casually wove eye-watering equations midair.
“Easy, right?”
Kaira and Belias fell silent at the question.
They had to acknowledge the skill—but couldn't fully grasp the formulas before them.
“Heh heh heh...”
Chancellor Oswald now propped his chin, chuckling madly.
“Beautiful equations. Planning to overhaul our entire magic curriculum?”
Ruen rolled her eyes at the question.
After a beat, she replied.
“Nah. Just half-ass the classes, collect the pay, and dump it into North development funds.”
To Ruen, this gig was just a means to meet the original characters.
The absurd answer plunged the room into silence once more.