Prepare for the Counterattack
“Urgh!”
I swung my staff. According to the class I’d secretly overheard, you swing it like this—crack. Luckily, the big lug’s bulky build meant he had to twist his whole body just to grab for his staff. I’m on the slim side, so it didn’t take me long to draw mine. Just a handspan’s difference. I was faster.
“Grk!”
The big guy’s body froze solid. Frost crept over his right arm, torso, and leg, stiffening him up before he toppled backward with a crash.
“Th-that bastard’s using magic?”
“What the hell’s going on? Who is that guy?”
“It’s the punishment instructor! We’re fucked!”
This bought me enough time to deal with the rest, even if they weren’t the sharpest tools. Their fatal mistake? They were naked from the waist down, pants around their ankles as they got serviced by commoner witches—one getting ridden, another getting a blowjob. Their staffs had come off with their pants. The witches scrambled to grab theirs first, but I was quicker still.
I whipped my staff sideways and smashed her pussy without a second thought. Behold the skills honed by FPS headshots. Wham—crunch!
The burst of magic not only clocked the witch mid-draw but sent the entire toilet stall flying.
“Kyaaah!”
“Uwaaak! What’s happening out there?!”
Smooth. Incredibly smooth—I was even surprising myself. Sure, these idiots were slow as molasses, but what amazed me more was how deftly I handled magic. And I wasn’t the only one shocked. A servant who couldn’t cast a spell suddenly wielding it like a seasoned mage? That hit them hard.
One witch safe in her stall should’ve countered, but she panicked, dropped her staff, and bolted out instead. Hands straight up over her head, she yelled desperately.
“I-I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”
This easy? Was I that intimidating?
These kids are still green.
They might outclass me in raw magic and knowledge, but I had way more experience with sudden crises. All those real-world army drills and surprise scenarios were etched into my body, saving my ass now. Or maybe it was my gaming aim.
“Don’t even think about grabbing your staffs—hands on your heads! You in the stalls, get out here now!”
When suppressing suspects, you raise your voice to crush their spirit. Keep them from trying anything shady. The flustered students couldn’t even mount a counterattack; they just threw their hands up in surrender.
“You too!”
I barked at the commoner witches eyeing me suspiciously—they were still gripping their staffs. Potential threats until proven otherwise.
“Drop every last staff on the floor and kick ’em to me.”
“Y-yes? Uh, yes, sir?”
“You want me to say it twice?”
No choice—they dropped them and kicked them over. The pantsless ones just hurled their whole pants my way.
“You little shits who can’t even grow pubes yet, whoring it up in the academy bathroom?”
“Fuck…”
“Who just swore? You?”
I shin-kicked the guy standing awkwardly in front, hands up. Thud.
“Aaak!”
“Before fixing your manners, I’m calling a disciplinary committee. Prostitution in the academy? Unacceptable.”
“Hold on, Instructor.”
From deep in the bathroom, a bob-haired male mage with hair to his shoulders spoke up. That smirking mouth suggested he had a silver tongue.
“Let’s not make this hard for everyone.”
“You with the foul mouth—step forward.”
“Uh, sure.”
Grumbling at my improvised nickname, the bob-haired mage pressed on.
“This’ll just get you in trouble, Instructor. You know who we are?”
“Dicks swinging in the wind, that’s who.”
“Hah, crude much? We’ve got Ios Savin backing us. Ring any bells?”
Using Ios as a shield? Even professors felt her influence.
“Piss off Ios and you’re done— what balls you must have to strut like this.”
Behind me? Sena and the headmistress. Wonder if they knew.
“How about a deal instead?”
The bob-haired mage kicked the shoulder of a commoner mage awkwardly squatting with hands up. Thud. Thud.
“Treat her like a client. We’ll throw in a month of free cumdump service from this bitch. Deal? That’s generous.”
“……”
“Not enough? Two months. Three. Five? …Fuck, even that not good?”
Tsk. Couldn’t help clicking my tongue.
“Trash like you exists in every world.”
The bob-haired mage tsked back, shoulders slumping as he ground his teeth.
“You’re hopeless. Time to make sure none of you pull this shit again. Ios Savin gets a special lesson as ringleader.”
“Fuck! We’ve stalled long enough—do something, Professor!”
Professor? No way this psycho was—
I spun toward the entrance, but this time, I was too slow. Bang— Professors lived up to the name. His power dwarfed the students’. By the time I registered the impact, I was already flying limp like a marionette with cut strings, slamming into the back wall.
Crash! Shatter!
Tiles crumbled down as I hit the floor, limp. My whole body screamed in pain. Honestly, a hit like that should’ve snapped bones.
“Yes!”
The bob-haired mage bounced excitedly toward the pale-faced professor, who stared at his staff hand, groaning in regret.
“Perfect! Next time, faster.”
“Ah… aaa… I’m insane… what have I done…”
“Quit moping! You wanna get caught by that guy? If this leaks, you’re done too!”
“Toby! Shut your damn mouth! This isn’t some random prof—it’s the punishment instructor!”
Unlike the clueless students, the professor knew exactly how screwed he was. Clutching his head, he forgot all dignity, squatting to claw at his scalp.
“Fuck… fuck…! Should’ve bolted! Why’d I touch the instructor…!”
“Wh-what’s wrong, Professor?”
“Professor, Ios’ll protect you. No need to freak.”
“Just kill him and erase the evidence. Like before.”
“You braindead idiots! I told you a million times not to drag me down—why get caught again?!”
Now sobbing outright, the professor cupped his face, voice trembling. His eyes, peeking through fingers, burned with pre-death terror.
“The headmistress’ll find out… She personally backed that instructor. We’re fucked…”
“L-like before—erase evidence. She doesn’t care much about the academy.”
“How many died here already? She never punished anyone hard.”
“You morons… It’s the headmistress’s pick. And killing? Think she won’t notice? He’s a servant! Goddamn servant!”
The dim students tilted heads; frustrated, he bellowed, veins bulging.
“Fucking hell, you idiots don’t learn in class! Servants share mana with their master! Kill one, the master knows!”
“Wh-who’s his master?”
“He even have one?”
“Ice Witch!”
The air froze solid. Witches clutched heads, staggering; guys paled, glancing nervously. Bob-hair gnawed his nails, then whipped around in horror.
“Fuck! That guy we saw every morning is Sena’s servant? Fuck fuck fuck!”
“Wh-why’s Sena’s servant mopping like a maid?”
“Didn’t she only have the witch-killer and old doll? When’d she summon this one?”
“Summon failure three months back—that him?”
“Why keep a failed summon?!”
I chuckled at their panic, subtly circulating mana through my body to boost recovery. They were too busy freaking to notice.
“Wh-what now? Heal and release?”
“Idiot! Release and he rats us to headmistress?”
“Then what? Can’t kill, can’t release. Convince him? Torture?”
“Yeah, right. He’s good with magic. One slip, he counters.”
Heads scratched, then bob-hair strode up, staff aimed at me.
“T-Toby! Can’t kill!”
“I know. But what else? Better dead.”
“Sena’ll know!”
“Not who.”
Bob-hair trembled his staff-tip, then yanked a commoner witch by the hair.
“Kyaak! Ow!”
“Get up, bitch!”
He shoved his staff in her hands, forcing it at me.
“W-wait—my magic trace? Use her instead.”
“Oh… ooh! Genius!”
The professor clapped, standing.
“Perfect. Pin it on her. We bail, play dumb.”
“P-Professor… I-I can’t…”
“Just kill him, fuck! Wanna see your folks ruined?”
“Please… sob… I can’t…”
“Fuck, words don’t work.”
Smack! A heavy slap echoed. Bob-hair was desperate too. Yanking her hair again, he snarled in her bleeding, trembling ear.
“Kill him. Evidence vanishes. We’ll cover.”
“Sob… hng…”
“Kill him already!”
I’d recovered enough. Jaw workable, I sneered.
“Nice try, moron.”
“Th-this fucker’s healing! Kill him, please!”
“Clara. Smash that.”
Every student and professor whipped around. At the entrance stood Clara, holding my dropped magic stone blankly.
“This?”
“Yeah. Smash it.”
The sharp-eyed professor clocked it instantly, shrieking.
“Th-that’s a summoning stone! Grab him!”
Too late. Clara hurled it down—crack—a magic circle etched the floor. Garish blue runes, unreadable, summoned a figure.
Knight’s armor. Hulking build. Blue flames flickering in eye-slits. Sena’s bodyguard knight, Grand.
Spot-on assessment. Wasting no second, Grand charged, uppercutting the professor’s jaw.
Crack!
Straight punch whipped the prof’s head around. Blood and teeth sprayed—three or four gone.
“W-witch killer!”
They scrambled, but Grand was leagues above me. He gut-kicked a nearby witch, smashing her into a stall. Guys got knee-shattered, then soccer-kicked writhing on floor till teeth flew. Even prostrating? Hair-grabbed, face-slammed into sink—shattered.
“Uwaaak! G-give me my staff!”
Bob-hair lunged desperately, but the commoner witch clung, blocking punches, kicks, pinches. Finally, he battered her arm to wrench it free, aiming at Grand—
Clack!
Grand swatted it like a fly. Grabbed his head. Downward yank, knee to face. Splurch!
Nose crushed, cheekbone caved. Teeth shattered, spilling with blood.
“Hrraaagh… uwaaah!”
Face pulped like ground meat, bob-hair went quiet with a slap from Grand.
No sword drawn. Situation cleared in seconds. Grand extended a gauntlet.
“Can’t handle trash like this and call yourself Sena’s servant? Follow me from now on. Learn the blade.”
“Magic and swordplay? My body won’t last.”