Chapter 103: Teacher
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 103: Teacher
As the winds of the world began to blow once more, the aged look in Professor Prang’s eyes turned utterly cold. A terrifying aura, one that seemed far beyond the reach of an old man, surged from his withered frame.
Above his head, an ancient crown coalesced from a faint glimmer. It rose swiftly, like the primordial essence that ascended at the dawn of the world’s creation.
At the center of the hemispherical barrier, an illusory throne seemed to have been forged long ago. The moment the crown merged with the throne, a phantom figure seated itself upon it, casting a cold, indifferent gaze down upon all creation.
In an instant, the world in Professor Prang’s eyes changed completely.
With the authority of the Second Layer Grand Ritual fully unlocked, everything within the bounds of St. Maria Academy became crystal clear to him. The trees, the weeds, the insects, and the silent school buildings shrouded in shadow—every minute change of every single thing could not escape his notice. Everything surfaced in his mind; everything, in this moment, felt as though it were held in the palm of his hand, ready to be manipulated at his whim.
"Whew..."
This exquisite sensation of absolute control allowed Professor Prang, whose body had long since begun to decay, to feel a renewed surge of vitality.
It was as if he had returned to his younger self.
Unfortunately, the girl that younger self had met... was no longer here!
Professor Prang raised his hand. The twelve black towers let out a thunderous roar as infinite mana was funneled through the Grand Ritual and poured into his briefly revitalized body.
A faint light flickered in his aged eyes.
Then, perfectly segmented hexagonal structures descended from the heavens and rose from the earth. They stacked layer upon layer, like a massive millstone capable of crushing any tangible object, grinding down toward the Saintess with her white wings.
"Wooo—"
Amidst the Purification Saintess’s sorrowful wailing, a sharp roar suddenly tore through—as if some entity were using her body to show its rage and madness toward the lowly vermin before it.
The Purification Saintess raised her hand, clenched her fist, and smashed!
There was no technique, no refined move. For a Saintess, the action was excessively crude, more akin to a common shrew in a street brawl.
Yet, when that petite fist struck, the stacked layers of structures shook violently.
Those perfectly interlocking hexagons actually bent under the weight of an unspeakable, horrific force. The surrounding space began to vibrate and warp, emitting a grating, ear-splitting screech like metal being torn apart.
"Even after becoming a Saintess revered by thousands, your way of fighting is still so simple and crude."
Professor Prang let out a bitter smile.
It was just like back then, when he was forced to clean up the messes she left behind after her brawls.
"In that case..."
Professor Prang spread his arms wide.
Behind him, golden lines extended and intersected, constructing profound and complex patterns.
Instant-Trigger Magic Arrays.
These arrays, which should have been engraved upon gold and gemstones using mercury and beast blood, were constructed in the void by Professor Prang with unimaginable magical prowess. Colossal mana gathered within them, gradually brewing into a storm and a sea of fire that represented pure destruction!
With a frigid expression, Professor Prang issued his decree.
"Go."
Supported by infinite mana, countless massive and terrifying spells were fired without pause, forming a saturation magic strike that illuminated the entire night sky.
Compared to the magical bombardment launched by the hundred students earlier, the arrays Professor Prang had constructed alone were the difference between a light drizzle and a storm-driven tsunami!
This was the terror of a Truth-Tier Grand Magister at his peak. As long as they had sufficient mana, a single person was equivalent to an entire magical legion!
The Purification Saintess naturally didn't dare to tank this head-on with her bare hands. Swallowing this "candy" would result in nothing less than her being torn apart from the inside out.
The wings behind her spread wide and then folded inward, perfectly shielding her figure. Pure white light expanded like a Sanctuary, rejecting the entry of any impure thing.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
It was as if ten suns had risen at once, the brilliant light painting the night sky as bright as day.
Even if it was a Sanctuary constructed by divine authority, a deity could not truly descend. Before this sheer, massive power, the Sanctuary struggled to hold. Visible cracks began to spiderweb across it, and then... it was completely pierced through!
Infinite heat and light poured into the Sanctuary, lunging at the delicate figure sheltered within the white wings, as if intent on burning her to ash.
Professor Prang raised a hand to hold down his hat, preventing it from being blown away by the searing heatwaves and gale-force winds.
He squinted, staring intently at the scene that was difficult to perceive through the blazing light and the spatial distortion caused by the violent explosions.
That attack just now had exhausted everything he had learned in his life. It had instantly consumed nearly thirty percent of the mana the Academy drew from the earth veins. Forget a Crown Bearer—even that undead gravekeeper from the Church should have been turned to ash after taking that hit directly.
But for some reason, the trace of unease in Professor Prang’s heart did not fade.
If anything, it grew stronger.
It felt as though something even more terrifying was about to happen.
At his level, every premonition had a source, so he did not dare to relax.
The magic arrays behind him lit up once more, ready for a second round of bombardment.
Suddenly, his vision blurred for a split second.
Professor Prang’s heart tightened.
The magic arrays were ready to fire... but he suddenly froze.
It was as if the very thought of triggering the arrays had been wiped from his mind.
In that brief moment of mental stasis, the space in front of Professor Prang was suddenly torn open.
The Purification Saintess stepped out from the rift.
It was clear that the previous strike had taken its toll. Her pure white wings were shattered, leaving only half a pitiful wing trembling slightly. Her hands were charred black, their fairness gone, and her perfect, pretty face was now covered in cracks like broken porcelain.
But when she appeared, the entire world seemed to dim.
Even the brilliant light from the explosions seemed insignificant now.
Because in her hand, she seemed to hold the most radiant light in the world.
It was a sword.
A sword that had neither exquisite engravings nor dazzling gemstone decorations. It looked extremely ordinary, like a half-finished blade.
Yet, the moment that sword appeared, nothing between heaven and earth was more conspicuous.
"Holy shit, a Holy Sword?" a certain bear beneath the Academy cried out in shock.
But no one heard him, and no one cared.
Under the gaze of many, the Purification Saintess raised the Holy Sword and thrust it toward Professor Prang’s heart.
At that moment, everyone’s breath seemed to stop.
Infinite hexagonal structures stacked layer upon layer, unfolding instantly in front of Professor Prang in an attempt to force her back.
But before the light of the Holy Sword, everything was utterly purified. The layers of structures controlled by the Grand Ritual collapsed back into pure mana without achieving any effect.
Puchi.
The sound of tearing flesh rang out, and blood splattered.
Professor Prang stared blankly down at his chest.
The Holy Sword had plunged into his body, and infinite light surged in, bringing a burning sensation like fire.
He coughed up blood; even his mouth and nose seemed to glow with light.
He should have been dead.
Being stabbed in a vital spot by the Holy Sword, even with the protection of the Grand Ritual, he should have died.
But he wasn't dead, because the Holy Sword had pierced... his right chest.
He looked up in astonishment.
The Purification Saintess’s hollow left eye seemed to regain a flicker of life.
And then, amidst that wailing that still blew like a sinister wind, a sorrowful, soft cry mixed in.
"Tea—cher."