Chapter 1: The Unmotivated Part-Time Instructor

The Alzano Empire. An imperial nation situated in a region of the northwestern tip of the North Selford Continent, characterized by a maritime temperate climate with wet winters and dry summers.

In the southern part of the empire, in the Yorkshire region, lies a city called Fejite.

Fejite’s defining feature boils down to one thing: it is one of the foremost academic cities on the North Selford Continent, home to the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy. Born alongside the academy’s founding and flourishing with its growth, Fejite is a town where buildings are unified by an old architectural style with sharply angled roofs, creating a dense, evocative cityscape. Meanwhile, the academy’s immense demand for magical materials and goods fuels robust trade with other regions. The steady influx of people keeps the town lively and ever evolving—a place where tradition and modernity coexist in harmony.

In a corner of this town, faintly shrouded in morning mist. A girl stood beneath a row of lamp-style streetlights lining the cobblestone street.

She was a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, with soft, medium-length blonde hair like dandelion fluff and large, aquamarine eyes. Her flawless skin was as smooth as fine silk. Her gentle, refined demeanor radiated through every movement, and her delicate, well-proportioned face was as lovely as an angel’s painted in a sacred mural. At first glance, she gave an impression of fragility, yet there was an undeniable strength running through her core—a girl like that.

In contrast to her stunning beauty, which turned the heads of everyone who passed by, the girl’s outfit was somewhat peculiar. A breezy vest, a pleated skirt, and a cape-robe draped over it all… Despite Fejite’s climate, which could grow chilly even in summer nights, her attire was oddly light. And for some reason, she wore a glove on only her left hand.

“~♪”

The girl seemed to be waiting for someone. She held the strap of the leather bag slung over her back, humming cheerfully to pass the time.

That’s when it happened.

“…Ouch!”

Hearing a cry of pain from behind, the girl turned around, startled.

There stood an elderly man, wincing as he clutched his finger. At his feet was a metal bucket filled with fallen leaves and twigs, and a flint lay nearby.

“W-What’s wrong, sir?”

Though he was a stranger, the girl’s face filled with concern, and she hurried to the old man’s side without hesitation.

“Oh? Haha… I must’ve looked pretty pathetic just now, eh, young lady?”

Faced with the kind-hearted girl, the old man’s expression softened, and he gave an embarrassed chuckle.

“I was tryin’ to burn this pile of rubbish, but wouldn’t you know it, my hand slipped, and I struck my finger with the flint… Ugh, gettin’ old ain’t no fun.”

Looking closer, the old man’s finger was slightly swollen and bleeding. He must have hit it quite hard. It didn’t seem serious, but it looked painful enough.

“Well, guess I’ll have to ask the missus for some herbs when I get home…”

The girl examined the old man’s finger, then glanced around. Confirming no one else was nearby, she flashed a mischievous smile, pressed her index finger to her lips, and winked.

“It’s a secret, okay, sir?”

“…Hm?”

The old man tilted his head, puzzled, as the girl gently took his hand and chanted a spell in runic language.

“《May the angel’s grace be upon you》”

A faint glow enveloped the girl’s hand as it held the old man’s, and the injury on his hand began to heal visibly, bathed in the light.

White Magic [Life Up]. A white magic spell that enhances the target’s natural healing ability to mend wounds.

“…O-Oh…!?”

The old man stared, wide-eyed, at the sight.

“Good, that’s done. Now… 《Children of fire, spark a tiny flame at my fingertips》”

Next, the girl chanted the spell for Black Magic [Fire Torch]. A small flame flickered to life at her fingertips. When she dropped it into the metal bucket, the rubbish inside began to burn brightly.

“Young lady… that mysterious power just now… is that what they call magic?”

“Yes. Technically, using magic outside the academy is against the rules.”

The old man looked both amazed and impressed, and the girl stuck out her tongue playfully, breaking into a cheeky grin.

“Come to think of it, those clothes… they’re the uniform of those peculiar academy students, ain’t they? Can all your friends do those kinds of mysterious tricks?”

“Yes. They’re all much better at it than me and can do all sorts of things.”

“Well, I’ll be… That’s mighty convenient. If folks like us could use tricks like that, life’d be a whole lot easier…”

“Haha, maybe so. Oh, but sir, about me using magic… if you could, um…”

“Oh, oh, keep it a secret, right? Don’t you worry, I got it.”

“Yes, thank you so much.”

“No, no, thank you, young lady. You really saved me.”

The girl and the old man exchanged smiles.

“Rumia—! Sorry I’m late—!”

The sound of running footsteps approached from a distance. Looking up, another girl, dressed in a similar outfit to the first, was hurrying toward them from across the street.

“Oh, is that… your friend, young lady?”

“Yes. She’s the daughter of the family I’m staying with, and my best friend. Well, sir, I should get going. Take care!”

“Study hard, alright?”

With a polite nod, the girl bid the old man farewell and headed toward her approaching friend.

Fejite’s main street, quiet in the early morning.

The two girls walked side by side along the beautifully paved granite road.

“Ugh, Rumia, you’re too proper… I told you to go ahead without me…”

“Oh, no… If I left my lady behind, a mere freeloader like me would get a scolding from the master and mistress…”

“Dummy. Don’t even joke about that—we’re family.”

“Haha, sorry, Sistie.”

Such lighthearted, familiar banter passed between the two girls.

“Still, it’s rare for you to forget something, Sistie.”

The girl who had parted with the old man and joined her friend—Rumia—looked curiously at the friend walking beside her.

“Because of that, I had to run back to the mansion, and I even made you wait… I’m really sorry.”

Beside Rumia, walking with slightly slumped shoulders, Sistine let out a melancholic sigh.

Sistine was a girl about the same age as Rumia, with long silver hair that shimmered like molten silver and slightly upturned emerald eyes. Her snow-white skin and exquisitely sculpted, statuesque features exuded pride and determination, as if she were a regal fairy, radiant and dignified. Though her expression was somewhat downcast now, her cool yet commanding presence was evident in every gesture—a girl like that.

Rumia and Sistine. Though their styles differed, both girls possessed an innate beauty and elegance that no ordinary town girl could ever imitate—a certain flair. They wore the uniforms of the magic academy, yet their presence alone transformed an otherwise unremarkable corner of the town into something as dazzling as a high-society ballroom.

“Could it be… Sistie, is it because of that?”

Rumia peered at Sistine’s face with concern. The Sistine she knew was someone who’d never make a mistake like forgetting something… usually.

“Maybe… yeah.”

Trying not to worry her best friend, Sistine forced a brave smile, but a trace of lingering gloom clung to her expression.

“It’s just… such a shame. Why did Huey-sensei suddenly quit teaching?”

“It can’t be helped. Teachers have their own circumstances too.”

“Ugh, what a loss… Huey-sensei’s classes were so clear, and he always answered questions properly… They were so helpful.”

“And he was pretty handsome, right?”

“Wha—!? What are you talking about!? His looks have nothing to do with it!”

At Rumia’s teasing words, Sistine’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“As the future head of the prestigious Fibel family of mages, I attend the academy to study magic! The only thing I care about in a teacher is the quality of their lessons!”

But Sistine’s indignant outburst only made Rumia giggle knowingly.

“Oh, right, Sistie. Speaking of, I heard a new part-time instructor is coming today to fill in.”

“…I know.”

Sistine replied, sounding utterly uninterested.

“I just hope they can at least give half as good a lesson as Huey-sensei.”

“Yeah, after getting used to Huey-sensei’s classes, other teachers’ lessons feel a bit lacking, don’t they?”

As the two chatted, they reached a crossroad.

“Uwoooooh!? I’m late, I’m laaaaate!?”

A suspicious man with bloodshot eyes and a frenzied expression, a piece of bread stuffed in his mouth, came barreling toward them from the right side of the street.

“…Huh?”

“Eek!?”

“What the—!? Hey, move it, you brats—!”

An object in motion doesn’t stop easily. Following the laws of classical physics to a tee, the man was about to crash into the two delicate girls—when.

“O, 《Great Wind》—!”

Sistine reflexively chanted a single-phrase spell, Black Magic [Gale Blow]. A ferocious gust erupted from her hand, striking the man’s body like a punch, and—

“Wha—!? I’m flying—!?”

His body soared skyward at an angle that forced him to crane his neck to be seen, tracing a parabola before splashing spectacularly into a circular fountain across the street.

The two girls could only stare, dumbfounded, at the towering column of water in the distance.

“Um, Sistie? …Wasn’t that a bit much?”

“Y-Yeah… haha… I got carried away. What do I do?”

Under their gazes, the man silently stood, sloshing through the water as he climbed out of the fountain. He strode up to them and said,

“Heh, you girls okay?”

“No, are you okay?”

The man flashed a refreshing grin, clearly trying to play it cool, but it was tragically uncool.

He was an odd man. A young man, somewhat older than Sistine and Rumia. He had black hair, black eyes and was tall and lanky. His appearance wasn’t particularly noteworthy, but his outfit was another story. A well-tailored white shirt, a cravat, and black slacks—an undeniably stylish ensemble. Yet, he wore it with such deliberate sloppiness that it was clear he found dressing up an utter chore. Even an amateur could tell the person who chose the clothes and the one wearing them were not the same.

“Haha, you should be careful jumping out into the street like that—it’s dangerous.”

“No… the one who jumped out was you…”

Sistine couldn’t help but retort, and just then—

“No, Sistie, hold on!”

Rumia puffed out her cheeks and stepped between Sistine and the man.

“You can’t just blame him! Sistie, firing magic at someone out of nowhere… One wrong move, and it could’ve been more than just an injury!”

“Ugh… I’m sorry.”

Sistine looked down, chastened.

“Come on, Sistie. Apologize to him properly.”

“Right. Um… I’m truly sorry. Please forgive my rudeness.”

“Tch, I’d love to see your parents’ faces! What kind of upbringing did you have, huh?”

“…We lower our heads, and this is his attitude? What’s with this guy?”

“Haha… let’s calm down, okay?”

Even Rumia, slightly taken aback, turned to the man and bowed politely.

“We’re really sorry. I apologize too, so please forgive us.”

“Ugh, fine! I’m not at fault at all, and you two are clearly in the wrong, but if you’re that sorry, I’ll graciously let it slide… hm?”

Grumbling to himself, the man suddenly narrowed his eyes at Rumia, as if noticing something.

“Hm? Hm?”

“Um… is there something on my face?”

Ignoring Rumia’s confusion, the man leaned in closer, staring intently.

Startled by his rude gaze, Rumia blinked rapidly.

“No… you… haven’t I seen you somewhere…?”

Tilting his head, the man poked Rumia’s forehead, pinched her cheek, ran his hands over her slim shoulders and waist, lifted her bangs, and peered into her eyes—until…

“What the hell are you DOING!?”

Sistine’s furious roundhouse kick connected cleanly with the man’s neck, sending him flying.

“ZGYAAAAH!?”

With a pathetic scream, the man tumbled across the ground. His likely brand-new clothes, already soaked, were now tattered and filthy, barely resembling their once-stylish form.

“I could forgive the reckless collision, but what was that!? Touching a girl’s body without a care!? You’re the WORST!”

“Wait, calm down! I was just, as a scholar, driven by pure curiosity and a thirst for knowledge! I swear, I only had maybe a tiny bit of impure thoughts!”

“That’s even WORSE!”

“Gah!?”

Sistine’s fist landed squarely in the man’s side, leaving him writhing in agony.

“Rumia, call the guards. We’re turning this guy in. He’s just a pervert after all.”

“W-Wait!? Please, have mercy! If I get arrested on my first day of work, Celica will kill me! I’m really sorry! Please forgive me! I got carried away!”

There, groveling at the feet of girls clearly younger than him, was a grown man, shamelessly begging without a shred of dignity.

“Um… he seems sorry. Maybe we should let him off?”

“Huh? Seriously? You’re way too soft, Rumia…”

“Thank you! I’ll never forget this kindness! Thank you!”

The man sprang to his feet, suddenly acting high and mighty.

“Now, you two. Those uniforms—you’re magic academy students, right? What are you doing dawdling here?”

“The second he’s off the hook, this attitude… What’s with this guy?”

“Haha…”

The girls could only stare, exasperated.

“Do you know what time it is? You’ll be late if you don’t hurry! Got that? Man… I sound like a real teacher right now…”

Ignoring the man, who seemed to be reveling in his own words, the girls exchanged glances and tilted their heads.

“…Late?”

“No way. It’s still plenty early, isn’t it?”

“Like hell it is! It’s already past eight-thirty!”

The man thrust a pocket watch in front of Sistine’s face.

“Is that watch running fast? Look.”

Not to be outdone, Sistine pulled out her own pocket watch and shoved it in front of the man.

The clock showed eight o’clock. For reference, today’s classes started at eight-forty.

“…”

A strange silence enveloped them for a moment.

And then.

“Retreat!”

“He’s running away—!?”

Just as abruptly as he’d appeared, the man bolted from the scene at breakneck speed.

“Damn it! That woman messed with my clock!?” he shouted incoherently as he vanished into the distance, leaving the two girls to watch his retreating back in stunned silence.

“What… was that guy?”

“…Well, he was kind of interesting, wasn’t he?”

“Interesting? He’s beyond hopeless!”

Sistine sighed at her best friend’s skewed perspective, as always.

“I never want to see a guy like that again. Watching him just makes me mad—a pathetic, useless man like that! Maybe we should have turned him over to the guards.”

“Haha…”

With Rumia’s vague laugh, Sistine resumed walking toward the academy, doing her best to forget the strange pervert. For a mage, organizing one’s memories was a fundamental skill. Indeed, Sistine successfully erased the man from her mind.

Though, as it would turn out, his presence would later be seared back into her memory with vivid intensity.

“Alright, let’s make today count, Rumia.”

“Yeah.”

Before long, the majestic sight of the magic academy’s campus, enclosed by iron fences, appeared before the two girls as it always did—

The Alzano Imperial Magic Academy. There was likely no one in the empire unfamiliar with its name. Established roughly four hundred years ago under the initiative of Queen Alicia III with vast national funding, it was a state-run institution dedicated to training mages. Today, it was the cornerstone of the Alzano Empire’s reputation as a magical superpower on the continent, renowned across neighboring nations as the pinnacle of learning where the most cutting-edge magic could be studied. The undeniable fact was that most of the empire’s prominent mages were graduates of this academy, making it a hallowed ground for all who aspired to master magic. As a natural consequence, the academy’s students and instructors took immense pride in being part of its legacy, dedicating themselves daily to honing their magical craft with that pride in their hearts. They had no doubts. They understood that their earnest efforts would one day form the foundation supporting the empire, guaranteeing them status and glory.

Thus, at this magic academy, things like tardiness or skipping classes—lax behaviors typical of some casual Sunday school—were virtually unheard of. For an instructor, whose role was to meet the students’ fervent dedication, to be late to a class was unthinkable. It should have been unthinkable.

“…He’s late!”

In the classroom of the second-year magic bachelor’s Class 2, located on the second floor of the academy’s east wing. Sistine sat at the front row of the semicircle of wooden desks facing the blackboard and podium, spitting out her words without bothering to hide her irritation.

“What’s going on!? It’s way past the start of class!”

“Yeah, it’s a bit strange…”

Rumia, sitting one seat over from Sistine, tilted her head.

“Did something happen?”

Looking around, their classmates were also murmuring suspiciously, as the instructor showed no sign of appearing.

“Today, a new part-time instructor is coming to this class to replace Huey-sensei.”

An hour had passed since the morning homeroom, when Professor Celica Arfonia—a seventh-rank mage, one of the continent’s finest—had personally visited the class to make that announcement. Her casual remark that “he’s a pretty capable guy” was already on the verge of crumbling.

“Since Professor Arfonia vouched for him, I had some expectations… but this isn’t looking good.”

“D-Don’t you think it’s a bit early to judge? Maybe there’s a reason he’s late…”

Sistine whirled on Rumia, protesting vehemently.

“You’re too soft, Rumia. Listen, no matter the reason, being late is proof of a lack of discipline. A truly capable person would never be late.”

“Is that so…?”

“Honestly, to be this late on the first day as an instructor at this academy? That takes some guts. As a student representative, I need to give him a piece of my mind…”

Just then.

“Yo, sorry, sorry, I’m late.”

The front classroom door swung open with a clatter, accompanied by a voice that sounded oddly familiar.

Apparently, the rumored part-time instructor had finally arrived. Class time was already more than half over—a delay likely unprecedented in the academy’s history.

“You’re finally here! Hey, you, what’s the meaning of this!? Do you even have any awareness as an instructor at this academy—?”

Sistine turned to give the man a piece of her mind… and froze.

“Y-Y-You—!?”

His soaked clothes, sloppily worn, and he was covered in scrapes, bruises, and dirt from being kicked to the ground.

An unpleasant memory resurfaced. The pervert they’d met on the way to school stood there, unchanged.

“…You’ve got the wrong guy.”

Recognizing Sistine pointing at him, the man brazenly said as much and moved to brush her off.

“Wrong guy!? As if there could be two guys like you!”

“Hey, hey, young lady. Didn’t your parents teach you not to point at people?”

With a gentlemanly expression, the man responded to Sistine.

“I mean, why the heck are you so spectacularly late!? How do you even manage to be late after that situation!?”

“Well… I was panicking because I thought I was late, but then I realized I still had some time, so I took a breather in the park, and, uh, ended up taking a full-on nap. Obviously.”

“That’s somehow an even worse reason than I imagined!?”

The guy’s excuse was so riddled with holes that it drained any urge to scold him for being late.

The rest of the class reacted the same way. The bizarre sight of the new instructor sent a ripple of murmurs through the students.

But the guy smoothly ignored it all, striding to the podium and scribbling his name on the blackboard with chalk.

“Ahem, I’m Glenn Radars. Starting today, I’ll be assisting with your studies for about a month. It’s a short time, but I’ll do my best to—”

“Can you skip the greetings and just start the lesson already?”

Sistine, not even bothering to hide her irritation, cut him off with an icy tone.

“Ugh, yeah, fair enough… Pain in the butt, but let’s get started… It’s my job, after all…”

And just like that, his earlier attempt at a polished tone vanished, revealing his true, laid-back self.

“Alright, let’s dive in… First period is Basic Magical Theory II, right… yawn.”

Stifling a yawn, Glenn grabbed the chalk and stood before the blackboard.

Instantly, the entire class snapped to attention. Sistine, shoving aside her earlier frustration with Glenn, began watching his every move closely.

(Let’s see what he’s got…)

Sure, her first impression of him was the absolute worst, but this Glenn guy had been called “pretty talented” by none other than Celica Arfonia, one of the continent’s top mages. It’d be a lie to say she wasn’t curious about what kind of lesson a guy like that could deliver.

That said, Sistine had no intention of blindly trusting Celica’s praise. She’d judge him herself, as she always had. If anything was unclear, she’d grill him with questions until it made sense, and she wouldn’t let him dodge with vague answers. Sure, she’d earned the unflattering nickname “Sistine, the Instructor’s Nightmare” around the academy, but that was only because she was relentlessly dedicated to the noble path of magic. She wasn’t about to compromise—not now, not ever. If anything, she wore that title with pride.

(Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, oh-so-promising temporary instructor-san.)

With Sistine and the entire class watching intently, Glenn wrote on the blackboard.

Self-Study.

The bold words on the blackboard plunged the classroom into silence.

“Huh? Self… study? Self-study? Wait… huh?”

Sistine’s mind raced, desperately trying to interpret the words as anything other than their obvious meaning. But every attempt failed. Naturally—such a short phrase could only mean one thing.

“Ahem, today’s first period will be self-study.”

Glenn announced it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“…’Cause I’m sleepy.”

He muttered the absolute worst reason under his breath.

“…”

Silence reigned. An overwhelming silence gripped the classroom.

Leaving the stunned class behind, Glenn, as if declaring the world was wrong and he was right, boldly slumped onto the podium.

Within ten seconds, his snores echoed through the room.

“…”

Silence ruled. An oppressive silence dominated the classroom.

And then.

“Hold it right there—!”

Sistine, brandishing a thick textbook, charged furiously at Glenn.

“Please, reconsider, Headmaster!”

A furious shout rang through the headmaster’s office at Alzano Imperial Magic Academy.

The source was a nervous-looking man in his mid-twenties, wearing glasses. His robe bore the owl crest, the mark of a full-fledged academy instructor. His name was Halley. In a world where most mages peaked at the fourth rank, he’d already reached the fifth rank at his young age—a prodigy among mages.

“I absolutely oppose appointing this Glenn Radars, some nobody from who-knows-where, as an instructor at this academy, even temporarily!”

Bam! He slammed both hands on the desk, glaring at the elderly man seated across from him.

“Now, now, Halley-kun. He was hired on Celica-kun’s strong recommendation, you know?”

Despite Halley’s aggressive demeanor, the older man remained unfazed, his grandfatherly expression unwavering.

“Headmaster Rick! Are you seriously saying you approved that witch’s suggestion!?”

“Approved? Of course I did—that’s why Glenn-kun’s here as a temporary instructor. Sure, he doesn’t have a teaching license, but with a faculty professor’s recommendation and the right aptitude, we can make exceptions for temporary hires. No issue there.”

“The aptitude is the problem! Take a look at this and reconsider!”

Slam! Halley slapped a stack of documents onto the desk in front of Headmaster Rick.

“This is the result of Glenn’s recent magical aptitude evaluation! What is this pathetic performance!?”

“Hmm? Oh, my… Talk about unremarkable. Magic capacity, mental capacity—both average. Elemental affinities? All mediocre. A mage who’s neither good nor bad… No, looking at raw ability, maybe slightly below average.”

Rick picked up the documents Halley had thrust at him, skimming through them.

“And his mage rank is a measly third tier! Take a look at his background!”

“Hm? Oh, he’s an academy graduate, is he?”

“‘Graduate’ is a stretch. He never submitted his final magical thesis.”

Halley snorted derisively.

“Glenn Radars. Enrolled in the academy at age eleven… Eleven!?”

Rick, scanning the documents, let out a shocked exclamation.

“The usual enrollment age is fourteen or fifteen! Eleven!?”

“…Yes. Back then, he made quite a stir as the youngest ever to pass the academy’s notoriously tough entrance exam.”

Halley grimaced, clearly annoyed.

“But that was the peak of his glory. His grades after enrollment were utterly average. After four years in the magical bachelor’s program, he ‘graduated’—or rather, dropped out—at fifteen. His final grades? Predictably average. Nothing noteworthy.”

“Hmm… Seems that way…”

“And the real issue is his path after that! After being exposed to the supreme pursuit of magical mysteries, he’s done nothing for the four years since graduation! If he’d dedicated himself to magic during that time, imagine how much he could’ve contributed to its advancement!”

Sure enough, Glenn’s resume had a four-year blank in the experience section.

“Well, now… Four years unemployed? What happened there, I wonder?”

“You get my point, don’t you!? A low-rank, vulgar mage like him has no business being an instructor at this academy!”

“Hmm, I seem to recall our instructor recruitment guidelines don’t mention restrictions based on experience or rank?”

“It doesn’t need to be written—it’s an unspoken rule!”

Thud! Halley slammed the desk again.

“Think of the distinguished instructors at this academy! Fourth rank is a given, and we even have those who’ve reached fifth and sixth ranks! Every one of them has mastered advanced magic and produced research results! Why should a guy like Glenn stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them!?”

“Hmm…”

“And you, Headmaster! How could you approve his hiring without even glancing at these critical documents!?”

“Well, you know, it’s because Celica-kun recommended him. Doesn’t it feel like… he might do something interesting?”

Rick’s lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“No, it doesn’t! You overestimate that witch! She’s just a relic clinging to past glories, brandishing her ego and destroying the order we’re meant to uphold!”

That’s when it happened.

“You’ve got some nerve, Halley.”

The casual words that suddenly echoed through the headmaster’s office made Halley freeze.

“Heh, that snot-nosed brat’s grown up quite a bit, huh? I’m almost proud.”

Turning, Halley saw Celica in the corner of the room, her face lit with a wicked smile.

“Wh… Since when were you here, Celica Arfonia…?”

“Who knows? Here’s a question for a lousy student from your dear teacher: take a guess.”

“Teleportation…? No, time manipulation…? That’s absurd… I didn’t sense any mana fluctuations or shifts in the world’s laws…”

“Bzzzt, wrong. You’re still third-rate, Halley. Keep training. Oh, and here’s your homework: investigate this mysterious phenomenon and write a report, three hundred pages max. That’s an instructor’s order.”

“Grr…!”

Ignoring Halley’s trembling humiliation, Celica gracefully bowed to Rick.

“Good day, Headmaster.”

“Oh, Celica-kun! Still young and beautiful as ever—jealous!”

“Heh, you’re still pretty dashing yourself, Headmaster.”

“Ho ho ho, really? Then how about you and I grab dinner tonight, Celica-kun?”

“Haha, pass. Geez, you’re as lively as ever, Headmaster. Time to slow down, old man.”

“Hahaha! I’m in my prime for life!”

Halley shattered the warm atmosphere by slamming the desk again.

“I won’t accept this, Celica Arfonia! I absolutely won’t acknowledge that fool as an instructor! If anything goes wrong, you’ll take responsibility!”

“…Take it back.”

The low murmur froze the room’s air.

“I don’t care if you badmouth me. I’ll even let it slide if you talk trash about him behind my back. But I won’t forgive you for insulting him to my face. Take it back. Apologize.”

Celica’s overwhelming presence ensnared Halley in an instant.

“W-What… That Glenn guy… is a worthless third-rate mage… That’s just… the truth…!”

Halley, dripping with cold sweat, forced the words out from the back of his throat.

Celica narrowed her eyes, giving him a chilling glance.

“Think you can handle this?”

She slowly began removing the glove from her left hand.

“—!?”

Seeing her movement, Halley visibly panicked, his face paling.

“F-Fine… I take it back… I was wrong…”

The moment he conceded, Celica flashed a bright smile and slid the glove back on.

“Damn it… You’ll pay for this!”

Spitting a parting shot, Halley fled the headmaster’s office.

A brief silence lingered between Rick and Celica.

“Goodness, still as wild as ever. I thought the office might blow up for a second there.”

Rick sighed, exasperated.

“But, Celica-kun, even for you, this is a bit much.”

“…I know. I’m really sorry.”

“Forcing a mage with no achievements into an instructor role… It’s not just Halley-kun. That reaction’s probably the consensus among everyone tied to the academy.”

Celica paused, then spoke with unwavering resolve.

“I’ll take responsibility. Everything he does at this academy, I’ll answer for.”

“You’re that set on backing him? What is he to you… Can I ask?”

“Haha, nothing romantic or some deep, tangled history. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“I just want him to live vibrantly. Call it a meddling old-lady’s instincts.”

“Whoa, check it out, Rodd, that instructor…”

“Yeah, unreal… His eyes are dead.”

“I’ve never seen someone so utterly lifeless…”

Whispers echoed quietly from various corners of the classroom.

“So, like, it’s probably like this, right? And then, it’s gotta be, like, this vibe, and, uh, basically, it’s like…”

At the center of the students’ scornful gazes stood Glenn, a massive lump on his head, moving sluggishly like a zombie as he halfheartedly taught.

“Man, Huey-sensei was so great…”

“Why’d Huey-sensei have to quit…?”

To put it bluntly, Glenn’s lessons were the worst anyone had ever seen.

His explanations were incomprehensible, barely qualifying as teaching. He droned on in a slow, drawn-out voice, rattling off vague magical theory, occasionally scribbling illegible scrawl on the blackboard as if it just occurred to him.

The students couldn’t grasp a single thing from the lesson, but they did understand one thing: this temporary instructor named Glenn was staggeringly unmotivated. Listening to this was a waste of time—studying the textbook on their own would’ve been more productive.

Still, a few earnest, diligent students tried to salvage something from the disaster of a lesson.

“Um… Sensei… I have a question…”

A petite girl timidly raised her hand.

Her name was Lynn, a shy girl with a small, animal-like presence.

“What’s up? Let’s hear it.”

“Um… About the example of the runic spell on page fifty-six, line three that you mentioned earlier… I don’t understand its common tongue translation…”

“Heh, yeah, I don’t know either.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, kid. Look it up yourself.”

Lynn stood stunned, floored by his brazen response.

Sistine, already fuming but now pushed over the edge, shot to her feet and protested fiercely.

“Hold on, Sensei. Is that really an appropriate response to a student’s question?”

Glenn sighed, visibly annoyed by Sistine’s sharp tone.

“Look, I already said I don’t know, alright? How am I supposed to teach something I don’t get?”

“If you can’t answer a student’s question, isn’t it your duty as an instructor to research it and provide an answer in the next lesson?”

“Ugh… Wouldn’t it just be faster for you to look it up yourself?”

“That’s not the point! What I’m saying is—”

“…Oh, wait, you guys haven’t been taught how to use a runic dictionary yet? Guess you can’t look it up then… Fine, pain in the neck, but I’ll check it out for you. Ugh, more work…”

“Grr… I know how to use a dictionary! Forget it!”

Glenn refused to drop his apathetic attitude.

Sistine sat back down, shoulders trembling with anger.

Rumia watched nervously from the sidelines.

The classroom’s atmosphere was toxic, with frustration simmering among the students and time slipping away pointlessly.

Thus, Glenn’s first lesson ended as a barren waste, leaving nothing gained.

After Glenn’s disastrous first lesson, the girls gathered in the changing room at the academy.

Sistine, stripped down to her underwear after shedding her uniform and cape-robe, shoved her clothes into a wooden locker, venting her frustration.

“Seriously, what is with that guy!?”

“Haha… Calm down, okay?”

Rumia tried to soothe her with a vague smile, but Sistine’s anger didn’t relent.

“He’s way too unmotivated! How does a guy like that get to be an instructor at this academy, even temporarily!?”

“Yeah… I kinda wish Glenn-sensei would try a bit harder.”

The next class Sistine and the others had was an alchemy experiment.

The uniforms and robes Sistine and her classmates usually wore were enchanted with a permanent Black Magic [Air Conditioning] spell to regulate temperature and humidity around the body. They were surprisingly cool in summer and warm in winter—extremely convenient. For female students, who were encouraged to wear light clothing in the early stages of magical training to enhance their natural affinity for external mana, these uniforms were a lifesaver.

However, alchemy experiments involved students directly handling magical materials, operating equipment, and using catalysts or reagents. Depending on the experiment, clothes could get badly stained or absorb chemical odors.

That’s why all the girls in Sistine’s class were gathered in the changing room, switching into hooded robes designed for experiments.

The half-naked girls’ smooth, youthful skin gleamed with vitality. Their bodies, transitioning from childhood to adulthood, carried the alluring yet innocent curves of adolescence. They flaunted their youth without reservation. It was a paradise of skin tones that would’ve been pure poison to the eyes of any teenage boy.

“Ugh… The next alchemy experiment is supervised by him too, right?”

“Yup. Glenn-sensei’s taking over for Huey-sensei.”

“Ugh… My stomach’s gonna get ulcers.”

As Sistine grimaced, she suddenly smirked, as if struck by an idea. She glanced at Rumia, who was slipping out of her clothes beside her, now in her underwear.

“This… calls for some healing.”

“Sistie?”

Before Rumia could react, Sistine swiftly closed the distance and hugged her from behind.

“Gotcha!”

“Eek!?”

Sistine pressed her skin against Rumia’s smooth back, her hands resting on the two soft mounds cradled by Rumia’s bra.

“Ahh, Rumia’s body is just so nice—smooth, fair, and silky.”

“S-Sistie, s-stop it!”

Rumia, blushing furiously, squirmed to escape Sistine’s embrace, like a kitten nuzzling affectionately. But Sistine’s arms coiled around her like a snake, unrelenting.

“Eep! Sistie, n-no!”

“Mmm… Rumia, you’re, like, definitely filling out nicely, huh?”

Sistine frowned, noticing the subtle shift in the soft yet faintly firm sensation under her palms compared to before. Rumia’s chest wasn’t large or small—it was perfectly proportioned, as if meticulously calculated to match her height and build, a masterpiece of aesthetic balance.

“Sigh… So nice. Why does all my nutrition skip my chest? Ugh… This was supposed to be healing, but now I’m just depressed…”

“S-Stop it, Sistie! Not so rough… Ah, ahn!”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous! Here, is this the spot? Huh? Huh?”

“Hya! N-No! Stop…”

Apparently, teenage girls in settings like this always ended up doing the same sort of thing.

“That’s not fair, Teresa! When did you—”

“Hehe, growth spurt!”

“How dare you surpass me! Take this!”

“Eek! W-Wendy-san!?”

Similar playful scenes unfolded across the changing room.

The girls squealed and laughed, their lively chatter filling the space.

But then, the changing room door suddenly burst open with a loud bang.

“Ugh, what a hassle! I don’t even need to change, that damn Celica…”

Outside the wide-open door stood a suspicious man, a borrowed lab robe slung over his shoulder.

It was Glenn.

His eyes met those of Sistine and Rumia, who were standing closest to the door.

All three froze in silence.

The paradise where half-dressed girls had been frolicking like fairies vanished in an instant. A frozen hell unfolded, time itself completely halted, and everything sank into silence.

“…Well, then.”

Glenn surveyed the room carefully. Confirming it was filled only with female students, he scratched his head irritably and glanced at the plaque outside the changing room.

“Guess the men’s and women’s changing rooms swapped places since back in the day… What a pointless thing to do.”

A terrifying murderous aura began to swirl slowly in the room.

Faced with that unstoppable tide, Glenn let out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, boy. So, this is one of those ‘lucky pervert’ moments so popular in those trendy teen novels in the capital? Ha, never thought I’d experience it firsthand.”

Led by Sistine, the girls began to move, their motions fluid and menacing.

Glenn stopped them with a grandiose wave of his hand.

“Hold it, hold it. Calm down, you lot. I’ve always had something to say about these cliché setups, so hear me out. Consider it my last words before the gallows.”

The girls’ movements halted. Even a condemned prisoner is allowed a final statement.

“Here’s what I think… The protagonists in those novels are idiots, right? The moment they trigger a ‘lucky pervert’ event, it’s guaranteed they’re gonna get pummeled by the heroine. So why do they always panic and look away or pull their hands back? Getting a fleeting glimpse of a girl’s body in exchange for a beating? That’s a lousy deal, no matter how you slice it.”

After that utterly deplorable preamble, Glenn made a grand declaration from the depths of his soul.

“So, I’m gonna burn this scene—into my memory!”

His eyes widened, nearly bloodshot. He crossed his arms, wearing a mask of resolve. Standing like a warrior king, he stared intently at the flesh-toned spectacle before him—

“““YOU—PERVERT!”””

That day, a brutal incident of school violence occurred, perpetrated by the female students of the second-year, second-class of Alzano Imperial Magic Academy against a certain part-time lecturer.

Incidentally, the alchemy experiment scheduled for that day was canceled due to the irresponsible lecturer falling unconscious.

“Ow… That really freakin’ hurts… Did they have to go that far? Seriously…”

It was just past noon, lunchtime.

Covered in scratches and bruises, his clothes tattered, Glenn staggered through the academy’s corridors like a teary-eyed zombie. Passing students flinched at his pathetic state, but Glenn had no energy to care about their stares.

“Man, kids these days sure are… well-developed. What the heck are they eating to grow like that? …Well, there was one who was a bit lacking in that department. Whatever, food time.”

Muttering words that could’ve cost him his life if overheard, Glenn made his way to the academy’s cafeteria.

The cafeteria of Alzano Imperial Magic Academy was located on the first floor of the main building, a structure resembling a grand noble’s mansion. The food was cheap, delicious, and had a longstanding reputation among students.

“Been a while since I ate here.”

Inside, long tables draped in white cloths and adorned with candelabras were lined up in rows, bustling with students who’d finished their morning classes and come to eat.

The system was simple: order food at the kitchen counter in the back, pay, and receive your meal. Then, find a free seat at a table and eat.

Glenn approached the counter and placed his order with the cook.

“Yo, herb-roasted free-range chicken with fried potatoes. Largo sheep cheese and Elisha sprout salad. Kilua bean stir-fry in tomato sauce. Potage soup. Rye bread. All of it, extra-large.”

Glenn was what you’d call a skinny big eater. Back when he was an unemployed freeloader, Celica never let him hear the end of it.

After a short wait, his food was ready. Glenn pulled a few copper selto coins from his leather pouch, handed them to the server, and took the wooden tray laden with his meal.

“Now, where’s an open seat…?”

The cafeteria was packed with students eating, most seats taken, but he spotted two empty chairs at the far-right table’s corner.

Not wanting someone to snag them, Glenn hurried over.

Then, he noticed.

“That’s why I’m saying Professor Fossil’s magical archaeology paper from last year doesn’t add up. Don’t you think so, Rumia?”

Across from the seats Glenn intended to take were two familiar faces, side by side.

“According to that scholar’s theory, the construction of Melgalius’ Sky Castle is dated to approximately 4500 Before the Holy Calendar. It is true that the systematic establishment of dimensional phase magic in ancient civilizations is generally attributed to the Middle Ancient Period. But, based on the murals found in numerous ancient ruins around Fejite and the excavated artifacts, it is widely accepted that something resembling Melgalius’ Sky Castle was already floating in the skies by 5000 Before the Holy Calendar. To dismiss this evidence and stubbornly advocate for the 4500-year theory solely on the grounds of magical-technological limitations seems unreasonable, to say the least. I cannot shake the suspicion that the newly devised chronometric sorcery proposed by that scholar was contrived specifically to gloss over this 500-year discrepancy! It’s a theory typical of modern sorcerers who overemphasize desk-bound speculation and textual research while neglecting fieldwork. Furthermore, if the dimensional phase magic of the Middle Ancient Period truly concealed the Sky Castle in the heavens, wouldn’t its duration have long since expired? Considering the mana density of the atmosphere in that era, the extension limit would have—[omitted]—and we must not forget the two Mana Winters that triggered the collapse of ancient civilizations—[omitted]—the mana half-life values themselves present contradictions—[omitted]—furthermore, it is evident that the diachronic evolution of ideographic ancient languages comprises three distinct proto-linguistic branches—[omitted]—in essence, the heraldic symbolism reflects a tension between divine and folk beliefs—[omitted]—even Telex’s mythological deconstruction theory suggests that ancient civilizations were not a monolithic culture—[omitted]—[omitted]—[omitted]—”

“Y-Yeah, I see…”

The silver-haired girl rattled on relentlessly, forgetting her meal, while the blonde girl—Rumia—listened intently, a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead and a vague smile on her face.

It seemed they were in the midst of a (somewhat one-sided) magical archaeology debate.

Magical archaeology studied the pre-historic era of super-magical civilizations, aiming to revive ancient magical technologies. Those obsessed with Melgalius’s Sky Castle were often called Melgalians.

The silver-haired girl was clearly a textbook Melgalian.

“Excuse me.”

With a brief word, Glenn plopped down in the seat across from the blonde girl, diagonally opposite the silver-haired one.

Only then did the silver-haired girl snap back to reality, noticing Glenn’s presence.

“—!? Y-You—”

“Wrong person.”

Brushing her off smoothly, Glenn began eating.

He sliced the herb-roasted chicken into thin pieces, stuffed rye bread with shredded fried potatoes and cheese salad, and took a big bite. The sprouts’ bitterness paired perfectly with the smoky fat of the charcoal-grilled chicken, making it refreshingly easy to eat. The aroma of herbs tickled his nose, whetting his appetite further.

“Damn, this is good. Gotta love that rough-around-the-edges imperial style…”

He scooped up the Kilua bean stir-fry. The tomato sauce, spiked with chili and garlic, had a bold, satisfying flavor.

Glenn’s brazen attitude, despite the recent incident, left the silver-haired girl—Sistine—speechless, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

The clatter of cutlery echoed softly.

Surprisingly, the meal didn’t proceed in awkward, heavy silence.

“Wow, Sensei, you eat a ton, huh? Do you just love food or what?”

“Hm? Yeah, eating’s one of my few joys in life.”

“Hehe, that stir-fry looks amazing. It smells so good.”

Sistine had clammed up, visibly displeased by Glenn’s arrival, but Rumia, for some reason, took the initiative to chat with him.

Unlike Sistine, who radiated hostility, Rumia didn’t seem to hold a grudge over the earlier incident. Come to think of it, she hadn’t joined in on the group’s punishment of Glenn either.

“Oh, you can tell? Right now’s when the academy gets this year’s fresh Kilua beans. They’ve got this killer aroma. If you’re gonna eat ’em, now’s the season.”

Glenn wasn’t the type to start conversations, but he’d respond properly when spoken to. He and Rumia seemed to click pretty well.

“Really? I’ll have to try the Kilua bean stir-fry next time!”

“Hell yeah, highly recommend it. Wanna try a bite now?”

“Huh? For real? But that’d be, like, an indirect kiss, you know?”

Rumia giggled playfully, tilting her head and pressing a finger to her lips.

“Pfft, what are we, kids?”

Shrugging in mock exasperation, Glenn pushed the plate of stir-fry toward her.

Rumia happily scooped a spoonful and popped it into her mouth.

Her easygoing, friendly demeanor and ever-present soft smile must’ve played a part. Before he knew it, Glenn’s lips curled into a faint grin.

“…”

But one person at the table radiated a heavy, oppressive aura.

Sistine. She alone refused to join Rumia and Glenn’s banter, instead glaring daggers at him with prickly intensity.

“…Hey, you. That’s all you’re eating? That enough for you?”

Being stared at so fiercely made eating tough, so Glenn sighed and addressed Sistine. Caught off guard, she flinched for a moment but quickly regained her composure, firing back sharply.

“I don’t think my eating habits are any of your business, Sensei.”

“Sure, but…”

Glenn glanced at the girls’ meals.

Rumia had a hearty spread: porridge, spiced pigeon stew, and a salad. In contrast, Sistine’s plate held just two scones lightly spread with red berry jam.

“You’re in your growth spurt, yeah? Gotta eat more, or you won’t grow.”

Not that you’ve grown much anyway, Glenn wisely kept that to himself. Even he knew better in this situation.

“Mind your own business. I don’t eat much at lunch because I don’t want to doze off in afternoon classes. I’m serious about my studies. Not that you’d care, Sensei.”

Sistine shot a pointed look at the mountain of food in front of Glenn.

Her provocative words made the air between them grow thick with tension.

“…Beating around the bush, huh?”

Glenn’s voice dropped half an octave as he kept eating.

Sistine’s face tightened, sensing the shift.

“If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.”

“…Fine. Since it’s better for both of us, I’ll say it plainly. I—”

Sistine glared at Glenn, about to unleash something…

“Alright, alright, I surrender. Don’t give me that desperate look.”

“…Huh?”

Glenn suddenly raised both hands.

“I didn’t expect you to be that hung up on it. You win.”

Before a stunned Sistine, Glenn scooped a single Kilua bean with his spoon and plopped it onto her plate.

“There, you wanted some, right? I’ve got plenty, so I can share a little. Geez, greedy much?”

With a wry glance at Sistine, Glenn resumed eating.

“W-W-Wrong! That’s not what I meant at all—”

Humiliated by Glenn’s outrageous misunderstanding, Sistine’s shoulders trembled as she slammed the table and shot to her feet.

But Glenn paid her no mind—

“Gimme one of yours in return.”

He stretched out his fork, speared one of Sistine’s scones, and swiped it in a flash.

“Mmm, scones really do hit the spot every now and then…”

“Wha—!? Why’d you just take it!?”

“What? Equivalent exchange, right?”

“How is that equivalent!? How!? That’s it, you’re done for! Get over here—!”

“Whoa!? Watch it! Hey, keep it down, we’re eating here—!”

Glenn and Sistine started a mock sword fight across the table with their knives and forks.

Curious onlookers gathered, their stares stinging.

Rumia could only watch with a wry smile.