A Professorship Deal Starting from a Position of Strength

"Having you grace our estate is an honor beyond words! Do come in, Chancellor!"

Count Eins Caldwell bowed at the waist again and again as he ushered the Chancellor inside.

The Academy's elite guard unit flanked the Chancellor on all sides, eyes sweeping the grounds for threats.

Arriving unannounced on another noble's land, and then spreading into battle formation in front of his very manor, was a breach of etiquette so naked it bordered on an act of war—yet not a single soul dared raise an objection. The Chancellor of Caesus Academy stood on equal footing with the Emperor of the Empire itself, and the five stars glittering on his nametag proved it beyond dispute.

And there I was, walking shoulder to shoulder with that very man.

"A house with real character. Wouldn't you agree, Baron Phedia?"

"This is my first time seeing it."

"Is that so? The Count lives practically next door, so I rather assumed you two would be on visiting terms."

"Ah! The Baron does, er, favor the outer fields for his walks, you see, so the chance to receive him rarely presents itself. Haha."

Sweat beaded down the Count's face in rivulets.

Power really was a wonderful thing. This was the man who only ever crawled out of his hole when he came to collect road tolls, wheedling and whining the whole time. I'd never once seen him this servile.

The Chancellor had apparently come all this way to the back end of nowhere because he had business with me.

― You don't seem to have mistaken me for someone else.

― Unless my eyes have finally failed me, you would be Baron Wicker Phedia. It seems I've found exactly the man I was looking for.

He'd answered with a booming laugh after we shook hands.

Since he claimed to have business with me, we might have simply talked at my own estate, but the news that the Chancellor had arrived in the county reached Count Caldwell's ears in the blink of an eye.

An opportunity to meet a great benefactor in life doesn't come around every day. The Count had promptly offered to host us both and invited us to his mansion.

"Chancellor, I trust the journey was comfortable? Our territory is famous throughout the Empire for its well-maintained roads, if I do say so myself. How did you find them?"

"Haha. The roads were fine. The fences, on the other hand, left something to be desired."

"Th-the fences, you say?"

The Count floundered at the unexpected remark.

"That's what I said. A fence isn't merely there to block a road, is it? When it should open, it ought to open. Your gatekeepers nearly kept me from meeting the Baron altogether."

"The fence…?"

I supplied an explanation for the Count, who was clearly lost.

"He means the captain of your guard. The man couldn't even recognize the emblem of Caesus Academy."

"He—how could that be!"

The Count flushed crimson and immediately barked an order at the butler standing nearby.

"Have the captain of the guard flogged and thrown out at once! What an insult to commit in the Chancellor's presence!"

"I shall see to it immediately, my lord."

His efficiency was remarkable. Before long, the sounds of a beating and someone's screams drifted over from behind the estate.

"I've had refreshments prepared. Nothing lavish, I fear, but do enjoy yourselves."

The Count led us to the drawing room. Once the Chancellor, the Count, and I had taken our seats around a cypress table, soldiers lined up along the walls.

"Chancellor, if it isn't too great an imposition, might I humbly inquire as to what brings you all the way to Caldwell's territory?"

The Count asked with every ounce of deference he could muster. The Chancellor took a leisurely sip of his tea.

"A strange question, that. I haven't come to your county, Count. I've come to the Baron's."

"Y-yes?"

"My business is with Baron Phedia here. He offered me a venue for our talks, and I saw no reason to refuse."

"With the Baron, you say. Excellent, excellent. As you can plainly see, the Baron and I are such close neighbors—our lands literally touching—that we're the best of friends. I'm certain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I can be of great help in moving these discussions along."

A hyena, through and through. The man had caught the scent of a lucrative deal and latched on in an instant.

But the sentence that came out of the Chancellor's mouth was not at all what the Count had been hoping for.

"Help, you say. Honestly, I doubt I'll need it. This is a matter I must ask of the Baron himself, you see."

"Of the… of the Baron himself, you say?"

The Count wore a baffled expression.

By contrast, I kept my face a blank mask. This was business talk, no question about it.

Of course, I had my suspicions about what it might be. But no merchant worth his salt shows his purse at the opening of negotiations.

"Then allow me to cast the first stone into the water, Baron Phedia. How many disciples have you raised to this point?"

The Chancellor asked me with the smile of an exceedingly agreeable man.

The keywords snapped into place at once. If not for the rumor Winston and the neighborhood kid had told me about that morning, I might have blinked like an idiot.

This was about the legend of the heroes' teacher.

Why had this simple piece of idle gossip refused to die as gossip—why had it been enough to send a man of the Chancellor's stature all the way out to this forgotten corner of the world?

Before answering, I needed to expand my thinking, and quickly. Some instinct told me this was no ordinary matter.

A teacher. An educator. The Chancellor was the representative and head of the Academy—and the Academy was an educational institution.

It was spring now. The season when a new academic year began. A new year brought new students.

Students from every nation on the continent. Their arrival inevitably tangled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the political webs between countries into ever more complicated knots.

And right now there was the matter of the heroes. The three heroes belonged to different nations. And this man believed me to be their teacher.

So—a political reason.

But Caesus Academy was a transcendent institution under the Goddess herself, belonging to no kingdom. The Chancellor, too, held a 5-star transcendent rank; he had no business getting entangled in political squabbles.

Now I was interested. Perhaps I'd gather a little more information.

"There may have been a few, I suppose. I have no memory of formally taking any of them on as disciples."

"How intriguing! Oh, don't misunderstand—I asked with no ulterior motive. It occurred to me that a man who taught the heroes who saved the continent might be persuaded to take on a few more students. What say you?"

"Pffah!"

The Count, who'd been mid-sip, sprayed his tea across the table. He hastily dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief.

"F-forgive me. That rumor—it was true?! Good heavens, good heavens… I thought it was nothing but nonsense the Baron had spread about himself…"

So everyone knew about it except me?

"Disciples, you say?"

"A professorship at the Academy."

The Chancellor slid a sheet of parchment across the table with a smile.

"This is the compensation. I'd like to ask for a three-year contract from you, Baron."

It was a staggering sum. A single year's salary would have built a grand estate of the highest caliber and left change to spare.

"Gwah."

The Count's jaw dropped when he glimpsed the figure. But.

I snorted.

I already had more than enough money to last me a lifetime.

My nametag and my status placed all manner of restrictions on me.

Wealth I had no way of spending was no better than garbage. Add ten more zeroes to the end of a number and it gains no charm whatsoever.

Still, this offer made an excellent barometer for reading the situation.

It told me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exactly how much value the Chancellor placed on the title of the heroes' teacher.

'Wiki.'

The moment I murmured it in my head, a search window appeared.

'Bert Mustang.'

A 5-star transcendent figure was still beyond my clearance.

But this one should work.

'Caesus Academy.'

Entries spilled out in a long stream.

I scrolled rapidly, hunting for the information I needed. Somewhere in these entries had to lie the reason the Chancellor was behaving this way.

One point leapt out at me.

If politics were involved, I had a feeling this was where they'd be hiding.

I leaned back against my chair and let my eyes fall half-lidded. Catching a look at my haughty bearing, the Count flinched and shrank into himself.

"That falls short of a price worth my life."

The smile drained from the Chancellor's eyes.

"With the subjugation of the Demon King winding down, I take it the Academy has decided to start watching which way the nations stronger than the Goddess blow? How the mighty reputation of Caesus Academy has fallen."

"Mind your tongue, Baron."

"Then let's talk plainly, Chancellor. Among the students I'd be taking on—does the Empire's Second Princess happen to be one of them?"

While the Count hadn't managed to follow the conversation at all, the Chancellor looked like a man thoroughly seen through, and he shook his head with a smile of surrender.

"A formidable one indeed. The heroes' teacher, after all. Well, since it's come to this, let's toss these petty pretenses into the trash where they belong. I can't stand that sort of thing myself."

The Chancellor tilted his chin toward the Count.

"Bring us wine. Grapes, nothing short of a Superioré!"

"Gahk! Such a premium vintage—! A-at once, as fast as humanly possible!"

The Count scurried out of the room. The Chancellor scowled, then undid a few buttons of his formal uniform.

"Baron Phedia—if you already know that much, I won't bother hiding it. The Demon King subjugation isn't winding down. It's already over. And the Empire has swelled its national power to greater heights than ever before."

"Caesus Academy is a transcendent institution, you say? That was true when the continent needed heroes. The rest of the time, you're just an ordinary school—which means you have no choice but to mind the gazes of the other nations."

"But here's the problem. The Second Princess entering this year? She's trash-grade. Utterly trash-grade. On a level we can't so much as touch. Her entrance exam results will land her in the Earth House without a shadow of a doubt. And then? She graduates trash-grade, that's what!"

"You think the Imperial Emperor won't tear the place apart when his daughter gets branded a simpleton? I've never once seen that lunatic show restraint. He'll march his army straight into the Academy."

"And no one will be there to take the blame. The Earth House professorship is vacant. That insufferable Goddess hasn't appointed a Chair Professor in five whole years—five years, if you please. So whose lap does the responsibility land in? Mine, obviously."

"Now. Do you follow?"

In short, he was hunting for a scapegoat.

And in this situation, I was the perfect sacrificial lamb.

The rumor of my being the heroes' teacher gave him a plausible pretext to hire me, and if I failed, he could simply trot out my Slave Merchant job and hand me over to the Emperor as tribute. And since I was an outsider, the Academy would walk away scot-free from any question of responsibility.

"Tsk. My apologies, truly. I haven't been in my right mind lately myself. That Demon King brat—of all the countless nations on this continent, why did he have to raze a few of them before kicking the bucket? Do you have any idea what it means for the Academy to factor in the political situations of every single one of those countries? It's absurd, I tell you."

He just wants his drink, and quickly. The Chancellor heaved a sigh and pressed a hand to his forehead.

He was more candid than I'd expected. My experience told me that regardless of his character, this was the kind of man you could trust in business.

The Chancellor was fully convinced that our deal had already collapsed.

Which meant that right now, I could open negotiations from the strongest possible position.

I spoke.

"The professorship for a dormitory can only be held by a Chair Professor, can't it."

"You know your stuff. The most honorable occupation on the continent, and there are just four of them in our entire Academy. Even I, the Chancellor, can't handle one carelessly. At the end of the day, it's a '4-Star job,' after all."

The Chancellor glanced back at me.

"…Would you consider taking the post as Chair Professor?"

I let the corner of my mouth curl, just slightly, before answering.

"Why don't you sweeten the terms a little more."