55 – Becoming the Mad Professor of the Academy – Part 2
The light, casting uncertain shadows, flickered above the desk.
Under the vertically descending light, the magician’s face was shrouded in deep shadows. Yet, the eerie crimson pupils, seemingly emitting light on their own, and a faint smile hanging on the lips were distinctly visible.
Some viewed him with mockery, some with amusement, and others with bitter laughter.
The magician was quite tall. The forearm visible inside the flowing sleeves was pale and thin. There were no signs of training. Perhaps due to the lifeless skin tone, he appeared even more emaciated compared to his stature.
In response to the questioning gaze, the academy students’ attention gathered on this peculiar magician. Despite the piercing hundreds of eyes, he remained composed. Shrugging his shoulders, each motion of sweeping the desk with one hand seemed natural.
As if there was no one in front of him. Or, as if he cared little about such gazes. After the chilling silence ripened, the magician spoke his first words.
He did not introduce himself.
“I came here for strengthening against illusion magic… and supplementing practical experience. Those are my two goals.”
Instead, he spoke about the goals. Despite not using any amplifying magical device, the magician’s voice was heard as if it whispered directly into the ears.
“But to achieve these goals… I needed to convince you all. Why prepare against illusion magic? And, does the magician before you possess the skills worthy of such preparation?”
He spoke with formality, yet his tone was gentle and friendly, as if addressing a long-time friend. However, because of that.
“So, I presented you with a dream… but about 30% of you don’t seem pleased. That’s okay. Even if you didn’t notice it was an illusion, there’s no need to disappoint yourselves. With effort, we can improve together.”
Combined with some misplaced nuances and the offbeat demeanor, it created a strange sense of discomfort, as if forcing a mismatched piece into an unsuitable puzzle.
The Holy Maiden Tara stood up, determined. She glanced around. The students in the classroom all wore similar expressions. There was no doubt that everyone had dreamt the ‘happy dream.’
Is he claiming to be the one who unleashed the nightmare in the academy? Tara recalled the unsettling dream, her forehead furrowing in anger.
“So… you’re saying you’re the one who showed us that damn dream? To everyone in this lecture?”
“That’s right. It was a small event to spark your enthusiasm for learning. Oh, don’t worry about the empty seats in the classroom… They haven’t been trapped in a dream due to a malfunction of magic. They are under investigation for allegations of dark magic.”
“I’m not talking about that! Releasing demons at the academy, are you out of your mind?!”
“There seems to be a misunderstanding. That was an illusion spell.”
“Unbelievable. Trying to justify such blatant lies…! Concealing dark magic within the academy, do you intend to justify it with such clumsy excuses?”
Murmurs rose among the students in response to the saint’s condemnation. However, the magician, as if relieved, sighed with a hint of satisfaction, then reached out into the air as if expecting to receive something.
Rippling through the air, a ponytailed woman in formal attire appeared and handed a thick document to the magician before stepping back. Using telekinesis, the magician sent it towards the saint.
Order for the Black Magic Exposure Operation bearing the seal of Prince Elid, the Second Prince.
A thesis on the production process of soulless magical swords by Violet Iris, the High Sorceress of the Purple Tower.
In the judgment of Saint Tara, she couldn’t discern the truth or falsehood of these documents. One thing was clear: the authorization of the Second Prince. The formidable authority of the royal family protected the magician.
“Is the explanation sufficient?”
“Even if everything is deemed legal. Even if you somehow managed it through unknown means! The fact remains that you played with the hearts of students. Because of what you’ve shown, I had the worst morning!”
“I distinctly designed the magic to evoke the most desired moment… I apologize sincerely. Could you perhaps tell me what you experienced?”
“!!”
The students’ gaze turned towards the saint. She hesitated, trembling.
“There’s… no way I can say that…!”
“I see.”
The magician nodded as if understanding. The speechless saint fidgeted, biting her lower lip in frustration before finally taking her seat. Niole, unsure of what to do, patted her shoulder.
Bennett pondered. The saint, like himself, must have dreamt of her ‘most earnest wish’ and been hurt by the disparity between the happy dream and the harsh reality. The scapegoat was clear. However…
The magician’s subtle machinations silenced the saint.
Most students, unaware of the illusion, seemed to have enjoyed it as a delightful dream. They must have been perplexed. To publicly condemn a wizard for insulting oneself, they would need to convincingly recount what they experienced in their dreams.
Simply stating, “I felt bad,” wouldn’t gain much traction because it lacked strength.
But they couldn’t speak. In Vennet’s case, the dream from last night held his most fatal secrets and vulnerabilities. Similarly, for the saint, if she were in such a situation, she couldn’t speak either.
It was like laying bare one’s heart to the world.
Attempts to pressure using the saint’s position were also close to impossible. The saint’s reputation was already tarnished due to her unique adventures, and with the second prince lurking behind the wizard, it became even more challenging. Moreover, the matter of the magic sword had been refuted in the name of the indigo tower.
The wizard surveyed the auditorium as if looking for someone to argue with.
As it quieted down, the wizard casually spoke.
“Fantasy magic, as you’ve just experienced, can be deadly at times. As you explore various illusions with me, you will inevitably seek ways to build a stable mental barrier… Have you all understood? Excellent.”
Thud. Thud.
The wizard walked to the center of the platform. Then, from his sleeves, he pulled out glass bottles containing various potions and spilled them on the floor. He was preparing to cast a spell.
Vennet gripped the hilt of his sword and drew it. He was a professor, and he was a student. Professors teach students without causing harm… that was the natural assumption, but the wizard’s actions were too suspicious to believe in such common sense.
“A thousand doors, a thousand stairs, a maze with no place for eyes or hearts. ‘Tambunseunggye.'”
His premonition was correct.
As the incantation continued, colorful substances oozed and crawled from the puddle of spilled potion, then suddenly exploded.
Space was being overlaid. Students looked around in astonishment. The auditorium building had transformed into the bizarre appearance of a different world.
Ceiling, floor, walls—all covered with countless doors. Under desks, inside textbooks, even on someone’s whiteboard—.
“…Are those doors attached to the ship?”
“Where are you looking!”
Doors numbering over a hundred appeared indiscriminately within the area.
A festival of doors. However, the original entrances and exits of the building were nowhere to be found. Curious or impatient students opened doors wherever they could find them.
-aaah!
“aaah!!”
The door led to unexpected places, and there were traps, such as monsters popping out from inside. From the students’ perspective, it was like being suddenly thrown into a dungeon. Watching the bewildered students, the wizard spoke quietly.
“If you find the exit and leave, the class will be over.”
The wizard of the enemy tower, Selvier, shouted back.
“What, what are you trying to do?! From the first class! And what’s with that strange way of speaking!”
“You don’t have time. And my role is to create time. Didn’t you wish for hardships and challenges?”
“Ugh… Somehow at that time, it just… ignited…”
Without realizing it, Venet glared at Selvier. There was nothing special about the conversation itself, but the wizard of the enemy tower had an expression of conscience-stricken, as if he had stepped on a large trap that everyone was unwittingly caught in.
The students understood the rules. That wizard hoped they would conquer this maze. In the sudden crisis, they each responded in their own ways.
“Let’s gather our strength and break through together!”
“If we kill the spellcaster, the magic will be released, so attacking the professor is the right answer!”
“The door might be a trap. Instead of the door, let’s break through the wall…”
Venet looked at the chaotic space and quietly organized his thoughts. He didn’t know exactly what the wizard’s goal was. However, considering that behavior, the attitude of not even revealing his name, and the swordsmanship mentioned by Alexson… creating a labyrinth out of the classroom.
From Noble mtl dot com
Without a doubt, the one on the edge was a lunatic.
—–
I watched the students enthusiastically wandering through the illusionary magic while hiding my appearance, smiling contentedly. I was relieved that they seemed to enjoy it.
The misunderstanding with the saint was also resolved. I thought it might take a little longer, but fortunately, the delivery of the thesis and the orders arrived just in time, and the evidence submission was successful.
Did I use the illusionary magic stylishly? (Yes)
Did the students become cautious of illusionary magic? (Yes)
Are you rolling while supplementing your real-life experience? (O)
The day is approaching when students will gather, saying, “I want to learn fantasy magic.”
There was only a checkmark on the checklist. If there was any flaw, it seemed that the holy maiden didn’t like the happy dream I showed her. Because I compressed the capacity a bit when weaving magic, I didn’t install the recording function.
So, I don’t know what dreams the students had. Where did I make a mistake? Maybe I should go and ask the holy maiden separately.
Hmm. I was a bit lacking in consideration. If something like shorts or a shouta appeared in the dream, it wouldn’t be embarrassing to speak in front of others.
Regrets can be turned into nourishment for tomorrow. Let’s grow. I asked Pingvallez next to me for an objective evaluation.
“Pingvallez, how was today’s class?”
“It was crazy.”
“Where?”
“Did you speak as usual?”
No, but. It was my first class in life, so I was nervous and embarrassed. If I hadn’t grabbed the concept and rambled on, I might have stumbled more.
And what’s this? Aren’t there always some strange professors in the academy?
Moreover, when I think about it, it wasn’t that suspicious. Didn’t they arrest a bunch of dark wizards? Then he must be a good guy.
“Umm…”
But I decided to listen to the advice. Maybe I gave too much strength and ended up acting too hard. Next class, I’ll approach it in my true form, in a friendly manner.
Class thoughts are over.
Now it’s time to think about the most important thing, ‘Exploration of Another World.’ There were only three people who applied for the course. Since it was open for enrollment anytime, more people might come in the future.
For now, three people.
I’ve prepared the scenario. A thrilling and basic Call of Cthulhu. There was a feeling that in the last two sessions, there was no introduction to the session, and I unfolded it as it went. But this time, I planned to properly structure it with enough time.
First, the introduction.
“Pingballeya, I have a favor to ask.”
“As long as it’s above the waist.”
“Well, you see, we’re sending applicants to another world. I’m having trouble figuring out where to start explaining. Can you go there first and come back to give me the details?”
“A reconnaissance mission?”
“If you want to be specific, it’s more like a sightseeing mission. Nothing dangerous, just take a spin and… write a report for the latecomers.”
“Alright. I’ll expect compensation.”
—–
Pingballeya, who briefly visited the simulation, looked extremely tired. After playing a round of tag with sociable prisoners and shooting a hard-boiled movie, it seemed quite challenging.
“You’re sending students here?”
“Yeah.”
Pingballeya Yuli Lancer expressed disapproval with her eyes. There seemed to be a lot to say, but she just sighed once and let it go. Then, as if suddenly remembering something:
“Oh, the participants asked. Is there an Apex Mage in there?”
“They didn’t apply.”
“Summoned and slipped away on their own…?”
Clutching a fist, her expression seemed to convey a sense of injustice.
On the other hand, I was cheerful. Thanks to briefly putting Pingballeya into the simulation, I could finally remember my friend’s name.
Should I surprise her by calling, “Yuli”? But the nickname Pingballeya stuck, and it felt strangely ticklish and embarrassing in a corner of my heart. So, I let it be. Pingballeya was perfect for Pingballeya.
It was long. The tenth hour of the third session.