It Was All to Build Momentum. (2)
Exhilarating.
It had been a long while since a morning felt this refreshing. The two weeks of rest deserved some of the credit, but I wanted to give bonus points to the fact that I was finally working out the knots of resentment that had been sitting in my chest.
Simply put:
I was going to crush the students who had humiliated me.
That was all there was to it. Payback for the frustration that had been piling up since well before the midterm exams.
For a moment, I wondered if I might have a slightly sadistic streak in me.
No, wait.
Come to think of it, this body had belonged to a murderer from the start. Of course it was sadistic — the possession itself was to blame. So if my thoughts kept drifting down this path, it wasn't my fault at all. It had to be Niger's.
Or so I decided.
And as if he'd read the sentiment right off me, Niger's voice rang out.
"...I wish you'd let me hear your inner thoughts as well. Do you have any idea how much worse it feels to sense nothing but unpleasant emotions?"
"Haha, that's a matter of mood, brother."
Take it up with my mood. It's unpleasant either way, so what do you want me to do about it?
"Don't mock me."
"Yes, brother. I shall endeavor not to."
"I'd advise you to restrain yourself. Keep this up, and you may find yourself waking at a murder scene."
Niger's voice had gone a touch colder. The words came out flat and even, but there was nothing remotely ordinary about their content.
"Ah — yes, sir."
The answer came out of me immediately, though honestly, Niger didn't really seem the type to follow through. So I just laughed it off and started getting ready for work.
The view from my office never changed.
"Professor Niger, you're looking rather bright this morning."
There was Elia, sidling up close to me with a sway in her step. Niger's personality being what it was, his office would have been sparse and barren — but thanks to her, a warm, cozy current of air always seemed to drift through it.
"Mm, yes. Lately the lectures have been quite enjoyable, you see."
"Ahh~ I heard the rumors. A swordsmanship student who's also taking your Divinity course came begging me to save them. Pfft."
"...?"
Which one was it?
Who dared badmouth me to Elia of all people?
The question slipped out of me before I could stop it.
"Which student, may I ask?"
"Ahaha... I'm on your side, Professor, but if I told you, they'd probably curse me for the rest of their life. So I'll keep my mouth shut."
Elia gave me a troubled little smile. Judging by my expression, she must have guessed exactly what future awaited the student if she named them.
Well...
If they were suffering that much, maybe I could ease up on them a little. They were all good, kind-hearted students, after all.
The lectures continued.
"P-Professor... I'm really, really going to die—uurk..."
"Sister, you will not die. And do not speak so carelessly of dying in the presence of a priest."
"Ahh... please, spare me..."
The head of the student receiving my instruction drooped all the way down. Their eyes fluttered shut, their body went slack — they'd lost consciousness.
Hm.
That made one more.
I cast a recovery spell, but they must have been thoroughly spent; they simply went on sleeping, breathing shallowly.
That left exactly one student standing today.
I turned my head toward that student — Bellatrix, to be precise — and smiled.
"Sister Bellatrix, apologies for the long wait. The other brothers and sisters were simply so full of passion that it took some time."
"...Professor, I'd rather you just killed me quickly."
"Haha, what a joker you are. When did I ever say I was going to kill you?"
"That laugh right there means exactly that."
"Surely you jest."
How could I possibly kill my own student? I was no murderer — I could hardly commit such an act against a pupil I intended to keep teaching, over and over, for a long time to come.
But when I gave her another gentle smile, Bellatrix took a step back.
"I sincerely regret my mistakes, so couldn't you just... let it go?"
She looked at me as though I were something foul, pleading over and over for mercy.
"You have done nothing wrong, Sister. It was my own failing — my inability to properly convey the teachings of Elohim."
I had taught them with the purest of intentions; the fault lay with me alone, for failing to fathom my students' hearts.
Of course, even though it was supposedly my fault, I had no intention whatsoever of correcting it.
Having already knocked out that whole crowd of students, I let my overflowing divinity spread once more.
The color drained from Bellatrix's face, leaving it bone-white.
"Ah — would you please just take it easy—"
"And your failure to show a professor proper respect — I suppose that's my fault as well, isn't it?"
"Re...spect!"
Way too late to be tacking 'respect' onto the end of that.
Yes, it was all my fault. The students whispering that I was some devil of a professor, my clone illusions getting copied during the midterms, Bellatrix speaking down to me — every last bit of it was my fault, and so I would graciously set it all right.
Kuuuum—
My will rose, and the divinity came settling down like a shroud.
And there was still a full hour of lecture time remaining.
Professor Elia's office.
Inside it sat two people who had no business getting along. Though, unlike usual, the relationship between oppressor and oppressed was rather clearly defined today.
The old nickname — Lady Claudius, the one reserved purely for teasing her — had long since vanished from use.
"Professor Elia, I come with a desperate request."
"Yes? Out of nowhere like this?"
"I've become genuinely convinced I'm going to die if this keeps up, so I came to you. Could you... rein in that lunatic of a professor? Please?"
My face probably wore a suitably pitiful expression as I said it. And why wouldn't it? I was every bit as desperate as I looked.
I'd passed out three times today alone.
The real problem wasn't the fainting, though. The problem was that fainting was actually a relief — and then, the moment I thought so, a warm current of divinity would seep into my body and force me back onto my feet. And my fogged-up mind would be right as rain after just a divinity spell or two.
That grueling training, disguised as a lecture, went on and on — until class ended, or until my body simply refused to rise again. If it had all been for nothing, the students would have filed a furious protest. No, the problem was that every single student enrolled in Divinity studies was improving by leaps and bounds.
Everyone, not wanting to die, threw up barriers with their eyes bulging in desperation. They cast reinforcement spells on themselves, healed themselves, moved with blinding speed — all to dodge even one more strike.
Anyone who didn't know what was going on would have watched in pure admiration.
However.
To the students and I — the only ones who knew this entire ordeal had sprung from the petty grudge of one spiteful, unhinged professor — it was nothing short of hell.
And Professor Elia knew it too, which was no doubt why she wore that troubled little smile even now.
So I pressed my case once more.
"Help me out, and I'll stop with the... ribbing. All of it."
"Ahaha... that's a very kind and yet very pitiful thing to say..."
Professor Elia nodded along, watching me.
"Help me out... you will?"
"Yes, I'll help. Even if you're not my assigned student, ignoring someone who comes to me this desperate would be a betrayal of what it means to be a professor."
What was this.
Was she an angel?
Had I really spent all this time playing pranks on someone this genuinely good, just for the fun of needling her?
Here was a person who, the instant I asked for help, smiled and said she'd give it. Thinking about it now, I honestly couldn't understand why someone like her had fallen for that lunatic of a professor.
Elia seemed like the far greater loss, frankly...
Ah, wait — that's right, wasn't he the type to only look at looks?
Figures.
I turned those bitter musings over in my head for a moment, then looked back at her. Still facing me with that same gentle smile, she waited, so I spoke.
"Would it help if I... worshipped you or something?"
"...Please don't. That would be awkward."
Hm.
I could have done it, if she'd wanted.
I set the thought aside and got straight to the point. It wasn't exactly polite, but I was in a rather urgent state, after all.
"I did just ask you for help, so it feels a bit rushed to demand a solution too, but — is there any way to stop the professor?"
"Hmm. Well, the way Professor Niger has been... overdoing his lectures lately — that's surely because of what he saw at the midterms, don't you think?"
"That was my own thinking, yes."
It was near-certain, really. When the professor was being this transparent about it, the likeliest culprit was those illusions from the midterm — and my magic.
Frankly, no other explanation even came to mind.
"Probably his feelings were hurt, you know?"
"It doesn't suit him at all, but that's exactly what it looks like."
It was absurd, somehow — that a man with that face and that physique was tormenting students out of wounded feelings.
But just as that thought settled, Professor Elia handed me a solution without a moment's hesitation.
"If it's a wounded heart that's driving him, then all we need to do is mend the heart, don't you think?"
"...And how exactly would we do that?"
If the hurt feelings were the problem, then soothing them would solve everything. Easy for her to say — I couldn't come up with a single way to pull it off.
And then Professor Elia answered even that question without missing a beat.
"Well, Professor Niger's birthday is coming up soon. Shall we prepare a gift for him together?"
"You even knew when the professor's birthday was?"
"Of course. It's only natural that I would. Though I'm sure it's not his real birthday."
Hmm.
As expected.
Asking Professor Elia for help had been the right answer all along.