Chapter 35: Pain

Chapter 35: Pain

Hennie, holding the textbook, patiently began to explain to Professor Delin:

This is an action authorized by Professor Victor.

Professor Victor is not available, so he asked me to substitute for his class.

However, she was met with a scoff.

Youre merely a teaching assistant, not even stepping into the threshold of a first-level Mage, what level could your teaching be?

Moreover, youre lecturing to the best class in the academy, do you understand how colossal that task is?

What if the students grades fall, can you take that responsibility?

Most of the students in the Royal Magic Academy come from noble families, especially this top-notch class, there are few civilian students.

To Devin, it was as ridiculous as a beggar telling the emperor how delicious a bun is for someone like Hennie, who cant even be considered a civilian, to teach this class.

Professor Devin, twisting his corpulent body, just a few steps and sentences made him feel somewhat tired.

He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Seeing Professor Devin like this, Hennie couldnt help but step back a bit.

Meanwhile, Professor Devin continued:

The top class should have the best teaching resources. You, a refugee who cant even be considered a civilian, are going to teach them magic? What qualifications do you have to teach!

I suggest you go back to your old ways, scuttle out of the academy as quickly as you can! Dont let me see you again!

As Devin spoke more and more excitedly, spit began to spray.

Luckily, Hennie stood far enough away that the saliva didnt land on her.

Hennie couldnt help but retort: This is Professor Victors course. The professor is not at the academy now, and as an assistant, I naturally have the duty to prepare the course for him. Do you have a problem with that?

Upon hearing Hennie mention Victor several times, Devins face suddenly darkened, and he looked at her coldly and said:

You, little brat, seem to know a lot.

But youd better not mention that bastard Victor in front of me.

Hennies face flushed, her heart thumping, and her eyes seemed to flash with sparks:

Professor Devin! You are insulting Mr. Victor!

Professor Victor is the youngest third-level Mage in the academy! He is knowledgeable, on what grounds do you say such things about him?

On what grounds do I say such things about him?

Professor Devins voice suddenly rose a few notches, saying sarcastically:

Youd better find out what hes been doing all these days hes been away before you talk to me!

As he spoke, he tossed out an each stone.

The each stone hovered in mid-air, spun around, slowly lit up, and an image appeared before them.

In the image, a volcano was stirring, about to erupt. Numerous Mages stood on the mountainside, preparing to activate war magic. The volcano suddenly shook like an angry beast ready to rage.

A fierce white light instantly lit up, filling the entire image.

Afterward, the each stone lost its luster and fell to the ground, rolling to Professor Devins feet.

Professor Devin moved aside, saw the each stone at his feet, and picked it up again.

He asked Hennie sarcastically: What did you see?

Hennie was puzzled. She knew about the large number of Mages leaving the Royal Capital some time ago, but as a minor figure, she naturally had no chance to know about the volcano eruption.

So she naturally didnt know about the recent turmoil in the capital.

At this moment, Professor Devin gave an explanation:

The volcano did not erupt naturally!

Someone did it on purpose!

Upon hearing this, Hennies body shuddered slightly.

Do you want to know who it was?

Hennie stared at Professor Devons cold gaze, a suspicion forming in her heart, but she quickly dismissed the idea.

Delin, however, seized upon her hesitation, mocking her:

Indeed, its your esteemed Professor Victor!

He enraged the natural disaster, leading to a volcanic eruption. So, he paid the price for his actions. He died in the volcano!

Upon hearing this, Hennie shook her head, hastily retorting:

Impossible! How could the Professor possibly do such a thing?

Hes so powerful, how could he possibly die in a volcano!

Professor Devon snorted and shook his head, continuing:

Refugees are indeed refugees. He nearly triggered an unstoppable catastrophe.

But what about you? Your first concern is whether hes dead or not.

Trash is indeed trash! You should stay in the trash pile, not come to the Mage Academy and disrupt the environment!

Hennies eyes glazed over, she stood there, repeating the word impossible over and over again.

Devon shook his head, dismissing Hennies shock, and continued:

It clearly stated:

Due to Professor Victors prolonged absence from the academy, Class Ones future course will be taken over by Professor Devon.

Reading this, Hennie started to tremble slightly, and her face became much paler. She looked at Professor Devon in disbelief.

The smug Professor Devon in front of her said:

As a professor, I have the right to dismiss a teaching assistant like you who isnt even a Mage.

From tomorrow on, you dont need to come to the academy anymore!

The book in Hennies hand suddenly burst into astonishing flames, like a poisonous snake, crazily devouring it.

No matter how Hennie beat it, the pain of her hands being burned could not extinguish it.

She was so distressed that she was about to cry, and she cried out:

No! No!

But the magic flames werent so easy to extinguish.

In the end, Hennie, who was unable to resist, sat on the ground in sorrow. She was covered in dust, and the book full of her knowledge turned into ashes.

It was her only effort, her knowledge, her dream.

All were burned to ashes in the fire.

More and more people gathered on the side of the road, but no one stepped forward to comfort her.

Nobody cared about a small teaching assistant, especially one in such a disheveled state.

Professor Devon publicly humiliated her and left satisfied.

From beginning to end, he never put Hennie in his eyes.

This was the hostility of others towards Victor.

After Hennie became Victors teaching assistant, they transferred their hostility towards Victor to Hennie.

Even though she was just an innocent teaching assistant.

In their eyes, Hennie was just a punching bag.

These people bullied her without any psychological burden.

At that moment, the ground once more rose, as if bewitched, with those black characters, dark and profound.

Unlike before, they became more furious, more twisted, more torn.

As if bearing an ominous messenger, they appeared once again before Hennie.

Do you desire power?

This time, Hennies response was:

I desire power, if possible, I want to possess power

She began to loathe her own incompetence, her own weakness.

It was she who had been a drag on Professor Victor.

She didnt want to continue like this anymore.

After Hennies response, the black characters froze, ceasing their squirming, dissipating like a gust of wind.

Then Hennie began to wait.

She hoped that a force could suddenly descend upon her.

She wished no longer to be so easily bullied by others.

She hoped she could help Professor Victor more effectively, help those who cared about her.

Finally, one second, two seconds, three seconds

Haha! Look at her, she really believes it!

I knew it, just as Professor Devon said. This trash with no talent, seeing a shortcut to becoming stronger, she would definitely believe it!

Daydreaming about getting something for nothing, day by day only thinking about whether she can become stronger. But not even willing to put in a bit of effort!

Laughter echoed around, several students sprang from the bushes, clutching their stomachs with laughter in front of Hennie.

The laughter was like a mocking dagger, fiercely stabbing into Hennies heart, an indescribable sense of injustice welled up in her throat, she couldnt utter a word.

Hennie lowered her head, burying her face in her robe.

Dont cry

The onlookers, the surrounding mocking laughter.

Like one knife cut after another.

She couldnt feel the pain, yet it was as if her heart was bleeding.

Dont cry, Hennie! Dont cry!

The tears she had been holding back, could no longer be suppressed.

Tears, like pearls, were falling pitter-patter on the ground.

Watering the ashes, wetting the robe.

Her shrill, hoarse crying echoed on the roadside.

As if trying to completely isolate the ruthless mockery and indifference.