Chapter 73: End of Semester (3)

Chapter 73: End of Semester (3)

Sylvia began casting her spell. Her magic circle formed slowly, drawing the eager attention of the entire class. As a leading candidate for the next Archmage, the students were keen to see what kind of magic Sylvia of Iliade would create.

From the start, her spell demonstrated a mana volume that far surpassed that of most professors. She skillfully wove her spell with immense mana.

“Huh?”

However, as Epherene observed closely, doubts began to surface. She could see it clearly—Sylvia’s magic circle was flawed.

Swooosh—!

A fierce wind whipped through the field, distorting the space around them. The ground was scoured, and Epherene’s robe billowed in the gusts. Deculein observed Sylvia in silence. Her spell continued to amplify but failed to produce any tangible effect.

Sizzle-crackle...

The concentrated mana scorched the ground, surging and contracting with intense energy. Sensing the imminent threat of an explosion, Deculein intervened, severing the magic circuit.

The spell was safely dismantled, and the field fell silent. The Debutants whispered among themselves, surprised by Sylvia’s failure.

“I failed.”

Sylvia, whose spell had been dismantled, remained unfazed. She looked up at Deculein and hesitantly said, “I still have a lot to learn.”

However, Deculein’s gaze was cold as he shook his head, clearly disapproving.

“Professor, this is unfair,” Sylvia said, biting her lip.

“What is?” Deculein inquired

“You told me I have nothing to learn because of my skill, while the less competent receive more instruction,” Sylvia argued.

Some Debutants shifted uncomfortably at her words.

“It doesn’t make sense. Those who excel should receive more attention and guidance.”

Sylvia believed she was the most deserving of his teachings. Meeting her Muse had been a stroke of luck. She had faith she would flourish even more under his guidance. There was nothing of value to learn from a place like the Floating Island.

“No, it’s not unfair,” Deculein said, looking at Sylvia.

“It’s not fair,” Sylvia insisted, holding his gaze without flinching.

"The unfairness is in your talent."

"The unfairness lies in your talent," Deculein declared. The atmosphere grew tense. "Is a genius's struggle truly greater than that of an ordinary person?"

Kim Woo-Jin once listened to a genius lament their struggles. This genius, who had more talent and had studied abroad on scholarships, complained that their art wasn’t coming together and that the standards set for them were too high.

“That’s incorrect. Those who do not require teaching cannot comprehend the struggles of those who depend on it to grow.”

He had never concerned himself with the hardships and slumps that geniuses might endure. Those who shed tears of blood due to lack of talent despised whining geniuses. Deculein likely felt the same.

“Sylvia, this is not an academy. Your complaints will find no audience here. If you cannot endure, then you should leave.”

Sylvia lowered her head.

“If you refuse to quit, then prove yourself worthy of your talent.”

His words pierced her heart like blades, shattering her spirit.

"Also, the mana concentration you deliberately caused was dangerous. An explosion could have resulted in casualties. Had another professor handled the dismantling, it might have led to a mana leak. Therefore, you receive ten penalty points."

Ten penalty points were the maximum Deculein could impose, something regular professors couldn’t do.

“Wow, ten points... that's crazy as hell,” Epherene muttered as the entire class gasped.

At that moment, her eyes met Deculein's.

“Epherene, using foul language during class is unacceptable,” Deculein said.

"Wait, no! Please, I'm sorry! Don't!" Epherene pleaded desperately.

“One more penalty point.”

“Nooo—!”

***

The end of the semester at the Mage Tower was a hectic period for both students and staff. Professors embarked on new projects or assessed their progress, while mages prepared for exams or wrote theses. This time also marked the peak of recruitment efforts from territories, nations, corporations, and adventurer groups.

With winter missions involving monster waves and civilian support on the horizon, the end of the summer semester was critical for a mage’s career.

"Professor Louina, we’ve received 117 counseling requests this week alone," Jenkin reported, her direct protégé at the Mage Tower of the Kingdom.

With one hundred and seventeen people—thirty-nine times more than Deculein—requesting her counsel, Louina's reputation from the kingdom and the positive word of mouth at the Mage Tower had ensured she was constantly sought after.

“... Professor?” Jenkin called.

But Louina was lost in thought, her mind repeatedly replaying what she had witnessed earlier with Deculein.

“... It was blood,” Louina muttered.

“Sorry?”

Blood had stained Deculein’s lips, and his office carried a distinct scent of it. Such a smell couldn’t come from a minor wound or a simple nosebleed.

"Just as I suspected..."

Louina was convinced it was hemoptysis. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. After today, she was almost certain that Deculein would die in five years.

“Professor?”

"... Yes? Oh, right. 1,117 people. So if I see a hundred each day, what?! Over a thousand?!” Louina exclaimed, suddenly snapping out of her thoughts.

“One hundred and seventeen students, Professor.”

“Oh... then seeing ten people a day should be manageable.”

“Yes, Professor. Additionally, the approval documents have arrived,” Jenkin informed her.

"Already? It’s only been three hours,” Louina said, her eyes widening in surprise.

The documents Jenkin handed her bore the official approval stamp from the Director of Planning and Financial Coordination Office. Louina had expected it to take at least one or two weeks.

Louina smiled bitterly, nodded, and then said, “Things are moving smoothly. Since we’ve secured the budget, go ahead and bring the others back.”

Louina had officially resigned from the Mage Tower of the Kingdom. While her most trusted protégé took over her position as head professor, many others still wished to follow her.

“Yes, Professor. I’ve already contacted them,” Jenkin said.

“Good. You may go.”

Once Jenkin left, Louina surveyed her office.

Noticing Sylvia’s state, Epherene cautiously suggested, “I gave you some good information. How about buying me dinner?”

Sylvia cast a sidelong glance at Epherene.

For some reason, Epherene licked her lips and added, "If you do, I'll pretend I didn't hear the word you just said."

Sylvia, who had been standing dazed, slowly nodded. The gloomy atmosphere from a moment ago had completely lifted.

Epherene and Sylvia arrived at Flower of the Pig, a famous restaurant in the capital and Epherene’s favorite spot.

“Hey there, Epherene! Here you go!” the owner said as he set down a sizzling roast Roahawk set.

Sizzle, sizzle—

The stone plate sizzled, filling the air with an irresistible aroma. Epherene’s mouth watered at the sight.

"You brought a friend today," the owner remarked.

“She’s not a friend,” Sylvia corrected, narrowing her eyes.

The owner shrugged and asked, "Oh, then how are you two connected?"

After a moment’s thought, Sylvia pointed at Epherene and said, “She’s my slave.”

Epherene gasped in disbelief and yelled, “That’s absurd! Slavery was abolished 300 years ago.”

“Haha, what a humorous noble she is. Enjoy your meal. You too, Epherene,” the owner said, laughing heartily as he walked away.

Epherene quickly put on gloves, grabbed the Roahawk by the bone, and said, “Just grab the bone and dig in. It’s delicious! You should try it.”

Sylvia looked at Epherene in disbelief. Displeased by her crude manners, she searched for a knife and fork. Finding none—likely because Epherene always ate like a caveman—she sighed and created utensils with magic. As Epherene devoured her food, she noticed Sylvia delicately cutting her meat with a knife.

“How is it? Tasty, right?” Epherene asked with a smile.

Sylvia replied flatly, "I have no sense of taste."

Epherene paused, her lips shining with meat juices.

“... Really?”

“Yes.”

“But you enjoyed the fish last time.”

“I was hungry then. I’m not now.”

Epherene recalled and nodded slowly. Sylvia had never mentioned it tasted good.

“... Was it since birth?”

“No, I lost it gradually,” Sylvia replied.

"Ah... I’m sorry," Epherene said, falling silent as she turned her attention back to her food.

Epherene glanced at Sylvia, who was picking at her Roahawk. Despite the delicious food, Sylvia seemed indifferent. She really must have no sense of taste.

“Still, this is great for nutrition and stamina. They say it’s a nutritionally complete food. You’ll feel your mana recharge if you eat it all,” Epherene said, forcing a smile. Sylvia remained unresponsive.

Ten minutes later, Epherene stared at Sylvia’s plate. Her own Roahawk was stripped to the bone, but Sylvia’s still had plenty of meat left. Epherene licked her lips, longing for more food.

Sylvia noticed and said, “You can have mine.”

“... Huh? Oh, I’m okay...”

“Have it.”

Epherene recalled that it was impolite to refuse twice, so she said, “Alright, thanks.”

As Epherene ate the meat Sylvia had left, she remembered their disastrous first meeting at the Mage Tower and the strained relationship between their families. Yet, Sylvia didn’t seem so bad after all. She was keeping her promise and paying the bill.

***

Tick-tock, tick-tock—

In the quiet mansion, the ticking clock was the only sound. Usually, Sylvia would be busy reviewing her magic at this hour, but tonight was different.

“Only Sylvia understands me.”

Epherene’s words echoed in her mind, but she heard them in Deculein’s voice.

“Only Sylvia,”

Though she regretted not hearing it directly, the very thought brought her immense joy. The pain in her heart disappeared, and the heavy burden she had been carrying was lifted.

“Understands me.”

She laughed quietly in her joy, but sorrow quickly followed. He was letting her go because he understood her, allowing them to meet again from a higher place.

“Bearbie Panda,” Sylvia said as she took out the stuffed animal Deculein had given her and draped it with the handkerchief he had also given her. “Here is your cape.”

Sylvia hugged the caped Bearbie Panda and lay down on her bed. In the quiet, moonlit night, with Bearbie Panda beside her and Swifty at the window, she felt as if the world itself was protecting her.

“Only Sylvia understands me.”

With this sense of fulfillment, she recalled his voice once more and drifted into a peaceful sleep.

***

“... So, that bastard Deculein dared to do that?”

In his office, Glitheon of Iliade received an official letter from the Mage Tower informing him that Deculein had imposed ten penalty points on Sylvia.

"Master, should we lodge a formal complaint?" the butler asked.

Glitheon shook his head and replied, "No."

Ten penalty points. Neither Glitheon, his father, his grandfather, nor his great-grandfather—no one in Iliade had ever faced such a humiliation at the Mage Tower.

"It's fine."

Twenty years ago, this might have been seen as a declaration of war, but now it didn't matter. Glitheon wasn’t concerned.

"Let it be," Glitheon said with a smile.

There was no need to see this as a disgrace. The emotions building up now would eventually fuel Iliade's bright future.

“If the child has done wrong, she must face the consequences of receiving penalty points,” Glitheon said as he burned the Mage Tower's letter.

The document turned to ash and settled. In those ashes, Glitheon thought of Yukline, recalling the longstanding enmity between the Iliade and Yukline families.

"Deculein, mark my words. The enmity between your family and ours will never be broken, even if this world ends..."