Chapter 1: The Birth of a Fake Passionate Instructor

After school on the second floor, East Wing of the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy.

At that moment, the classroom of Class 2, Year 2 of the Magic Department was astonishingly devoid of energy.

“Alright, anyone want to participate in the ‘Flight Race’ event?”

Sistine, standing at the podium, called out to the class, but no one responded.

All her classmates uniformly looked down, and the classroom was as silent as a funeral.

“…Okay, then, anyone for the ‘Transformation’ event?”

Still, no reaction. The classroom remained utterly quiet.

“Ugh, this is tough… The Magic Tournament is next week, and we haven’t decided on anything…”

Sistine scratched her head and glanced at Rumia, who was taking notes by the blackboard.

Rumia nodded once and spoke to the class in a gentle yet surprisingly clear voice.

“Hey, everyone. Since Glenn-sensei said we could ‘do whatever we want’ for this tournament, why don’t we all give it a shot? I mean, for those who couldn’t participate last year, this is a perfect chance, right?”

Even so, no one said a word. Everyone awkwardly avoided eye contact.

“…It’s pointless, you two.”

At that moment, a bespectacled boy, fed up with the stalemate, stood from his seat.

His name was Gibul, the second-best student in the class after Sistine.

“Everyone’s feeling hesitant. And why wouldn’t they? The other classes will, as usual, send out their top performers. Nobody wants to fight a battle they know they’ll lose… Right?”

“…But it’s such a great opportunity.”

Ignoring Sistine, who bristled and tried to argue, Gibul continued.

“On top of that, this year’s Magic Tournament for second-years will be graced by Her Majesty the Queen as an honored guest. Nobody wants to make a fool of themselves in front of her.”

His tone was snide, but Gibul’s words accurately captured the mood pervading the class.

“More importantly, Sistine, isn’t it about time we got serious?”

“…I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Hah, good one. You’re trying to give the deadweights a chance out of pity?”

Gibul smirked sarcastically, casting a glance over the class.

“Look at this. Thanks to your ridiculous proposal, even the talented students who actually qualify for the tournament are feeling awkward and shrinking back… Can we stop this already?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! And calling everyone deadweights…!”

Sistine’s brows shot up, her voice rising in anger.

Gibul brushed it off effortlessly, piling on with blunt words.

“Enough with the pretty talk. We should just fill all the events with top performers like you and me. Otherwise, we don’t stand a chance against the other classes… especially Class 1, led by Halley-sensei.”

“Winning isn’t the only point of the tournament, is it? Besides, we did that last year, and… it was honestly kind of boring…”

“Winning isn’t the point? Boring? What are you even saying?”

Gibul scoffed at Sistine’s argument.

“In an academy where we rarely get to showcase our magical skills, the Magic Tournament is one of the few chances to prove who’s truly the best. Isn’t that what it’s about?”

“That might be true, but…!”

“Plus, the tournament attracts alumni—bureaucrats from the Ministry of Magic, members of the Imperial Court Mage Corps, and more. It’s a prime opportunity for students aiming for those careers to show off. Don’t you think it’s only natural that top students like us get more chances to shine?”

“Are you seriously saying that…?”

Sistine glared at Gibul, her anger plain to see.

But Gibul, unfazed, pressed on with his argument.

“And let’s not forget, the winning class this time will receive a medal directly from Her Majesty. You realize how prestigious that is, don’t you, Sistine? So stop being stubborn and let’s fill the roster with top students. It’s for the good of the class.”

“Gibul, that’s enough—”

The atmosphere was about to hit rock bottom—Sistine, no longer able to hold back, was ready to shout, when it happened.

Thud-thud-thud—the sound of running footsteps echoed from the hallway outside, and then… BANG! The front door of the classroom flew open with a dramatic crash.

“I heard everything! Leave this to me, the great Glenn Radars-sama!”

His robe, worn without arms through the sleeves, fluttered pointlessly as it draped over his shoulders.

Beyond the open door stood Glenn, striking an inexplicable pose: one finger pointed forward, chest thrust out unnaturally, body twisted, and a sidelong glance for dramatic effect.

“…Here comes trouble.”

Sistine clutched her head and sighed.

The class, dumbfounded by his utterly bizarre entrance, watched as Glenn shoved Sistine aside and took the podium.

“Stop fighting, you lot. Quarrels lead nowhere… Above all—”

Glenn flashed a dazzling, refreshing smile—

“Aren’t we comrades, fighting together toward the single goal of victory?”

(—Gross.)

In that moment, the entire class’s thoughts aligned perfectly. It was a tragically unified display of leadership.

“Well, anyway. Seems like you’re struggling to decide on the events, huh?”

Completely oblivious to the awkward atmosphere, Glenn carried on at his own pace, as always.

“Geez, what’s with you guys? Got any motivation at all? The other classes have already picked their events and are training hard for next week’s tournament. Man, talk about a gap in dedication.”

“You’re the one with no motivation, Sensei!”

Sistine, unable to let his outrageous comment slide, snapped back.

“When I asked you about the tournament the other day, you said, ‘Do whatever you want’! Why are you acting all high and mighty now?!”

“…Huh?”

Glenn blinked, looking genuinely offended.

“…Did I say that? Honestly, I don’t remember.”

“Ugh… So you were just being lazy and not listening to a word I said…”

Sistine slumped forward, utterly drained by Glenn’s typical behavior.

“Well, whatever. Since leaving it to you lot isn’t getting anywhere, I, as the supreme director of this class and a super charismatic magic instructor, will use my decisive brilliance to choose your events. Let me make this clear—”

With eyes blazing with ambition and passion, Glenn declared grandly:

“Since I’m taking charge, we’re going for the win. Full throttle. I’ll lead you to victory. So that’s how I’m organizing this. No playing around. Got it?”

Murmurs rippled through the class. The students exchanged glances, stunned by this fiery attitude, so unlike Glenn’s usual lethargic demeanor.

“Oi, White Cat. Hand me the list of events. Rumia, sorry, but write down the names and events I call out on the blackboard.”

“I told you to stop treating me like a cat… Ugh!”

“Got it, Sensei.”

Sistine grudgingly handed over the list, while Rumia readied her chalk.

“Hmm…”

Glenn began scanning the list of events and their rules with a serious gaze.

“Hey, White Cat. Are the events the same every year?”

“No, they’re not. Except for things like the ‘Duel Battle,’ it’s rare for the exact same events to be held as the previous year. New events get added out of nowhere, and even if an event seems the same, the rules might change…”

“I see. So it’s also about testing the students’ adaptability. In that case… Hmm…”

Sistine stole a glance at Glenn’s focused demeanor and let out a small sigh.

(Sheesh, why’s he suddenly so motivated?)

Glenn had become this class’s instructor through a series of twists and turns. While he delivered high-quality lessons, he had zero drive for his own magical research, was lazy, and even mocked the sanctity of magic with problematic remarks—a failure of a mage and a hopeless human. That was the general consensus about Glenn within the academy.

But Sistine knew better. Though Glenn was usually a wreck, when it mattered, he could risk his life to fight for someone else—a passionate soul.

Knowing this side of him, Sistine constantly nagged him but could never bring herself to completely give up on him.

This time was no different. In fact, she found his sudden enthusiasm rather endearing.

(But… his timing is just awful.)

Sistine felt a twinge of frustration deep down.

Glenn had said he’d go all out to win.

In the context of the Magic Tournament, going all out meant benching students with average grades and cycling the class’s top performers through every event—the usual, predictable strategy.

(Ugh… Did he really have to get motivated now?)

Sistine was, in fact, one of the top five students in her year. Naturally, she’d participated in last year’s tournament for first-years, following that same predictable strategy… and it was dull. It was nothing like the stories her father had told her. Back in the day, the entire class would join in, everyone having fun together in a festive atmosphere. But that kind of tournament had apparently faded away.

So, when Glenn told them to do whatever they wanted, she’d been thrilled.

If everyone participated, it would surely be fun.

It could have become the kind of lively Magic Tournament that her father had described—she had truly believed that.

But judging by the serious expression on Glenn’s face as he studied the list, this year’s tournament wouldn’t be the fun, inclusive event she’d hoped for.

With a resigned sigh, Sistine let out a lonely breath.

“…Alright, I’ve got the gist of it.”

Glenn looked up. It seemed he was finally ready to announce the participants.

“Listen up, you lot. First, the highest-scoring event, the ‘Duel Battle’—White Cat, Gibul, and… Kash, you three are in.”

Huh? At that moment, everyone in the class tilted their heads in confusion.

The ‘Duel Battle’ was a three-on-three team event featuring actual magical combat, the tournament’s most high-profile event, where each class typically fielded their strongest trio.

But if they were going by grades, it should’ve been Sistine, Gibul, and then Wendy. Why was Kash, who ranked below Wendy, chosen here?

Even Kash himself seemed baffled by this mysterious selection.

But Glenn, completely ignoring the confusion swirling through the class, continued.

“Next… ‘Speed Deciphering.’ That’s Wendy, no question. ‘Flight Race’… Rodd and Kai are the best fit. ‘Mental Defense’… Yeah, that’s gotta be Rumia, no one else. And then, ‘Detection & Lockpicking’ is—, ‘Granzia’ is—”

As the participant names were announced one after another, the students began to notice something. Not a single student was being reused across multiple events. Even for high-scoring events, Glenn was casually assigning lower-ranked students over higher-ranked ones. It became clear that Glenn intended to have all forty students in the class participate in at least one event.

Wasn’t he supposed to be going all out to win? Didn’t he say no playing around?

As the class collectively puzzled over Glenn’s intentions:

“—And finally, ‘Transformation’ goes to Lynn. Alright, that fills all the slots.”

Glenn’s announcements were complete. In the end, not a single student had been left out. All forty would participate in at least one event.

“Any questions?”

“I absolutely refuse to accept this!”

Amid the buzzing students, Wendy, a prim and proper twin-tailed girl, stood up brusquely.

“Why am I not in the ‘Duel Battle’ lineup?! My grades are better than Kash-san’s!”

“Yeah, about that…”

Glenn scratched his temple, looking a bit reluctant.

“You’ve got a ton of spells, magical knowledge, and mana capacity, sure. But you’re kinda clumsy sometimes. You’re weak to sudden accidents, and you occasionally flub your chants.”

“Wha—?!”

“So, while Kash has fewer spells, his athleticism and situational judgment make him better suited for the ‘Duel Battle.’ If that upsets you, I’m sorry. But in exchange, ‘Speed Deciphering’ is your domain, right? Your [Read Language] skills are unmatched in this class. I’m counting on you to rack up points there.”

“W-Well… if you put it that way… Your phrasing is infuriating, but…”

Unable to stay mad or argue back, Wendy sat back down sheepishly.

Other students, curious about why they’d been chosen for their events, raised their hands to ask Glenn.

“Both [Levitate Fly] and [Gravity Control] are gravity-based black magic, and since black magic manipulates motion and energy, they’re fundamentally the same. Kai, you can handle it.”

“Teresa, during that alchemy experiment, you instinctively caught a flask someone dropped with [Psy-Telekinesis], right? You might not realize it, but you’ve got a knack for telekinetic white magic, especially remote manipulation spells.”

“‘Granzia’ is more about teamwork than individual skill. You three, always tight-knit, are probably the best fit. You’re great at synchronized chanting, too.”

To each student’s question, Glenn provided reasoned, logical answers.

In short, Glenn had crafted a lineup that maximized each student’s unique strengths, even those that usually went unnoticed.

Why he’d suddenly gotten so motivated was unclear, and his approach felt inefficient for someone claiming to go all out. Still, it seemed Glenn had thought carefully about the strongest possible lineup in his own way.

(And this…)

Sistine looked at the names on the blackboard. The lineup was thoughtfully designed to leverage each student’s strengths, and even when they were assigned outside their specialties, it was in a way that allowed them to adapt using their strengths. This kind of planning required a deep understanding of each student’s abilities and weaknesses, something only possible by closely observing them daily. Despite acting like he had no interest in his students, Glenn had clearly been paying attention.

(Sensei’s such a hopeless guy… but every now and then, he pulls something like this.)

Sistine watched Glenn answer the students’ questions with a faint, fond smile.

“—Alright, any other questions?”

Glenn scanned the room.

By now, there wasn’t a single objection to his lineup.

“Then we’re set, yeah?”

Smirking inwardly, Glenn asked the class.

(Phew, that went well…)

Glenn’s goal was simple: Win. He had to win. He needed the special bonus that came with victory to survive. Starving to death was not an option. And Celica? She flat-out said she wouldn’t help, that cold-hearted jerk.

To win, he would have to push through a lineup that maximized their chances, even if it meant being a bit forceful. Letting the students pick their events for fun would’ve been a disaster. To win, he needed a cunning strategy.

So far, his primary goal was on track. For a class of forty to aim for victory, the lineup he’d proposed was undoubtedly the best.

(Heh… Call it cunning if you want, but victory is all that matters. The winner writes history… Though, if I could, I’d love to overuse Sistine for every event.)

Sure, he’d tailored the lineup to each student’s strengths, but he knew that didn’t erase the fundamental skill gap with the top performers. At best, it’d make them competitive, a small comfort. If he were truly cutthroat about winning, he’d have stacked every event with top students only.

(But that’d be too unfair, right? Oh well, guess I’ll just have to make the most of these forty and boost our win rate as much as possible…)

As Glenn mulled this over:

“Ugh, Sensei, can you stop messing around already?”

One student stood slowly. It was Gibul.

“What’s this about going all out to win? This lineup can’t possibly win.”

“Hm…?”

Could there be a lineup that raised their win rate even higher?

If so, Glenn would jump on it in a heartbeat. This wasn’t about pride or dignity as an instructor anymore. He was on the brink of starvation.

“Oh? Gibul, you saying you’ve got a lineup that can win even better than mine? Alright, let’s hear it.”

“…Sensei, are you seriously saying that?”

Barely hiding his irritation, Gibul spat out his response.

“It’s obvious! Fill every event with top performers! That’s how it’s always been, what every other class does!”

“…Huh?”

Glenn froze.

Wait, what? That’s allowed? His thoughts raced as he stood rigid. Apparently, he’d made a massive misunderstanding.

(Ohhh, I get it. You can reuse students across multiple events. It’s the norm, what everyone does. Huh, really? Wow, I see…)

Hearing this, Glenn was mentally fist-pumping.

(Hell yeah… I thought this lineup was already sneaky enough to make people cringe, but if that’s how it works, I’m not holding back. I’ll come up with an even sneakier plan…!)

Especially Sistine—he’d work her to the bone. That cheeky White Cat was infuriating, but her sheer competence was undeniable. Infuriatingly competent — but competent all the same. If Sistine competed in multiple events, their chances of winning would skyrocket.

“Hmm… Alright, if that’s the case…”

Just as Glenn was about to nod in agreement with Gibul:

“What are you talking about, Gibul?! Are you seriously trying to nitpick the lineup Sensei worked so hard on?!”

A girl shot back at Gibul head-on. It was Sistine.

(Whoa—hold up, why’re you arguing with Gibul-kun?!)

Oblivious to Glenn’s rising panic, Sistine turned to the class with a sincere expression and pleaded.

“Everyone, look! The lineup Sensei came up with! He thought carefully about everyone’s strengths and weaknesses to make sure we all get a chance to shine!”

Her earnest appeal sent murmurs through the class.

Now that you mention it… Yeah, you’re right… Whispers of agreement echoed here and there.

(No… Don’t get convinced, please…)

“Sensei put this much thought into it, and you’re still hesitating?! Scared of looking bad in front of Her Majesty? That’s the real embarrassment! That’s what would make you unable to face her!“

(I don’t care about looking bad or facing her, just please stop talking…)

“What’s the point of a victory where only the top students compete? Sensei said he’d go all out to lead this class to victory! And that only means something if we all do it together!”

Then, Sistine turned to Glenn and said:

“Right, Sensei?!”

Her expression, rare for her when facing Glenn, was bright and free of any edge.

“Y-Yeah…”

That was all he could muster. Saying otherwise would’ve made him a outright villain.

“Exactly, like Sistine said…”

“Yeah, that’s right… Even we…”

The class’s mood was clearly swinging toward Sistine.

(No—I can’t back out now?! Hold on, you guys! This is a matter of life and death for me! I’ll starve! Do you get that, damn it?!)

At this point, his only hope was Gibul.

(Come on, Gibul-kun! Don’t give in! Shut down White Cat’s argument with a flashy takedown!)

Glenn stared at Gibul with desperate eyes, but…

“Hmph, whatever. You’re as stubborn as ever, Sistine… Fine. If that’s the class’s consensus, do what you want.”

Gibul gave a sarcastic smirk and sat down.

(You spineless pushover, you herbivore?!)

“Well, I’ll be eagerly watching your performance, Sensei.”

(Shut up! I’ve got no performance to show!)

Gibul’s provocative tone left Glenn screaming silently in his head.

And then, to Glenn:

“Haha, looks like it’s all going according to your plan, huh, Sensei?”

Sistine said with a giggle.

(This… this brat’s mocking me?! She’s outright sneering at me, with that scornful laugh and biting sarcasm to top it off?!)

To Glenn, her smile looked nothing short of demonic.

(No way… Did she figure out my scheme and do this on purpose?! If so, what a jerk this White Cat is…!)

“Well, since Sensei finally got motivated and worked so hard on this, we’ll do our absolute best. Look forward to it, Sensei.”

“Y-Yeah… I’m counting on you…”

An unusually cheerful Sistine, alongside a Glenn wearing a somewhat strained smile.

“I feel like… we’re not quite on the same wavelength… Why is that?”

Rumia watched the two with a wry smile.

At the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy, the week before the Magic Tournament is designated as a practice period for the event.

Specifically, all classes during this period are condensed into three sessions—first and second periods in the morning, and third period in the afternoon—leaving the after-school hours free for students to practice magic under the supervision of their assigned instructor.

“Ha…”

After school, in the academy’s courtyard, surrounded by coniferous trees and carpeted with lush grass,

Glenn leaned against a random tree, slouched down, and gazed wearily at his students practicing magic for the tournament from a distance.

Some students chanted spells, practicing flight in the air.

Others played catch using telekinetic remote-control magic.

A few chanted assault spells, firing bolts of lightning at the trees.

On the far side of the courtyard, Sistine and Rumia sat on a bench, poring over a spellbook, scribbling intently on parchment with serious expressions, while a group of students gathered around them, discussing something. They seemed to be fine-tuning magical formulas for the tournament.

Glenn’s entire class was quietly buzzing with excitement for the tournament a week away.

“So damn enthusiastic… completely oblivious to my feelings…”

In stark contrast to his fiery passion up until yesterday, Glenn’s mood today was rock-bottom.

After all, he’d seen it with his own eyes—the impressive lineup of participants from the other classes.

Using the summoning spell [Call Familiar], he’d conjured a mouse familiar to scout the competition, and as expected, the other classes were stacked with the year’s most renowned students, many of whom were competing in multiple events repeatedly. Each excelled in their specialties, so it wasn’t like Glenn’s students would be entirely helpless… but the gap in raw ability was undeniable. Even with the most optimistic view, their chances of winning were slim.

Glenn’s fate of starvation was no longer a joke—it was practically set in stone.

“Damn it, that’s unfair… Using all the top students like that? Do they all just care about winning and nothing else!? Isn’t there something more important than victory, damn it!?”

He’d conveniently forgotten that he, too, had briefly considered stacking his team with top performers.

“Tch… Should I forcibly rearrange the lineup now? I’ve got the authority as the instructor…”

The devil’s whisper still echoed faintly from the depths of his heart.

But then, Glenn glanced at his students.

They all looked like they were having fun. Until yesterday, they’d been hesitant and shrinking back, but deep down, it seemed they all wanted to participate in the tournament, even if just a little. The students were lively, eagerly practicing for their respective magical events.

The sight faintly stirred a corner of Glenn’s old memories, bringing something back to him.

“The Magic Tournament… Oh, right. Now that I think about it… back when I was a student here, there was something like that, wasn’t there…?”

Watching the students practice so joyfully, Glenn finally remembered. Until this very moment, he’d completely forgotten that the academy had such a traditional event as the Magic Tournament.

“Well, no wonder. After graduating from this place, I went through some insanely intense years… And besides, I never once participated in the tournament…”

His thoughts drifted back to his time as a student at the academy, years ago.

Back then, an unfortunate precedent was already forming: participation in the Magic Tournament was largely determined by grades. At the time, only below-average students were cut, and Glenn, being one of them, was naturally excluded from the selection. Looking back, there might’ve also been some feelings of ostracism toward Glenn, who was three or four years younger than his peers in the same year.

So, while his classmates buzzed with excitement and enjoyed the tournament, Glenn always watched from a distance, alone. It was a profoundly boring and lonely memory. After repeating that cycle for a couple of years, by his third year, he’d lost even the slightest interest in the tournament.

Forgetting such a grim memory was only natural. If he hadn’t been tasked with supervising his class for the tournament as an instructor this time, he might never have recalled it at all.

“Tch… Made me remember something unpleasant…”

Muttering bitterly, he turned his gaze back to his students, diligently practicing.

“Hah… Man, what a bunch of hopeless amateurs… Yeah, this is impossible. No way, no way…”

They probably wouldn’t win. A single week wasn’t nearly enough to make a difference.

And yet—

Not a single student was standing off in a corner, watching the others practice with a lonely expression.

“Ha… Oh, well.”

Glenn scratched his head roughly and stood up.

“…Guess it’s fine.”

His murmured words, directed at no one in particular, carried a strangely refreshed tone.

“Anyway, I’ve gotta figure out how to scrounge up some food for now. I’m not banking on that special bonus anymore, but I’m not about to starve. Isn’t there, like, a Shirotte tree or something around this academy…? If I could get some of its twigs, I might be able to scrape by until the next paycheck…”

He hadn’t eaten anything but water since yesterday. With no other choice, Glenn was about to head into the academy’s forest to forage for edible plants or twigs when—

“Stop acting like you own the place, you jerks!”

A sudden, furious shout pierced his ears.

“…What’s that?”

Glenn lazily turned toward the sound. It seemed some of his students were arguing with students from another class in a corner of the courtyard.

“…Hey, what’s going on?”

Unable to ignore it, Glenn sighed and headed toward the commotion. The students in question were radiating a volatile, ready-to-brawl atmosphere.

“Sensei!? These guys showed up late and started acting all high and mighty—”

Kash, one of Glenn’s students, ranted excitedly.

“Shut up! You Class 2 losers are crowding the place and getting in the way! We’re about to practice, so get lost!”

A male student from the other class, equally heated, spat back at Kash.

“What’d you say—!?”

“Alright, alright, stop it~”

Glenn grabbed Kash and the other boy by the scruffs of their necks and forcefully yanked them apart.

“Agh… M-My neck… Ow, ow, ow…”

“Ugh… I-I can’t… breathe… It hurts…”

“God, you idiots are fighting over the dumbest crap… Your tempers are way too short.”

Confirming the students had calmed down, Glenn released them.

The two, freed from his grip, coughed and collapsed to the ground.

“Let’s see… You guys over there… Those badges mean you’re from Class 1, right? You here to practice too?”

“Uh… Y-Yes, that’s right… Um… On Halley-sensei’s orders, we were told to secure a spot…”

The Class 1 students, clearly intimidated by Glenn effortlessly subduing two larger boys with sheer strength, shrank back, their earlier bravado gone as they answered meekly.

“Hmm, got it…”

Scratching his head, Glenn surveyed the area.

“Yeah, I guess we are taking up a bit too much space… My bad. I’ll have everyone shift over to the side a bit, so let’s call it even, yeah?”

“If you’re willing to clear some space, then…”

The situation seemed to be resolving amicably, and the watching students breathed a sigh of relief—

“What are you doing, Kreiss!? I told you to secure the spot! It’s still not cleared!?”

A shout rang out as a man in his mid-twenties approached. He wore a robe adorned with the owl emblem signifying an academy instructor, and his bespectacled face carried a neurotic air. His name was—

“Yo, Yurei-senpai, what’s up?”

“It’s Halley! Halley! Not Yurei, not Harem—Halley=Astley! Glenn Radars, how many times are you going to butcher my name!? Are you seriously not even trying to remember it!?”

This exchange was apparently a well-worn routine between them.

Glenn’s casual greeting was met with Halley, the academy instructor, storming toward him with a ferocious scowl.

“…So? Uh, Har… something-senpai, your class is here to practice for the tournament too?”

“…You really don’t want to remember my name, do you?”

Halley’s fists trembled with irritation, but he pressed on, as if unwilling to waste time on it.

“Hmph, fine. You said tournament practice? Obviously. My class will take the championship this year, as always. Under my guidance, anything less than victory is unacceptable! This year, Her Majesty the Queen herself will grace us with her presence and personally award a medal to the winning class. I am the only one worthy of such an honor!”

“Haha! Wow, that’s some intense passion! Good luck, Senpai!”

Halley clicked his tongue in annoyance at Glenn’s clownish demeanor.

“More importantly, Glenn Radars. I heard you’re having your entire class participate in some event or another for this tournament?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that’s right… Kinda ended up that way. Not exactly thrilled about it, though.”

“Hah! Throwing in the towel before the fight even starts? Making excuses for your inevitable loss? Or perhaps you’re trembling in fear of the class I lead?”

Glenn scratched his head, looking troubled.

For some reason, this Har-something guy seemed to have it out for him. He was always picking fights like this, one-sidedly. Glenn had never been particularly well-liked by him, but it felt like the hostility had ramped up ever since he’d turned over a new leaf and started teaching seriously as a part-time instructor. The reason for it? No clue.

Whatever. For now, he’d just brush it off as usual.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I mean, Har… something-senpai’s class is packed with the year’s top students, right? Sheesh, you guys might as well have the championship in the bag already. Man, I’m jealous of that medal from Her Majesty!”

Halley gnashed his teeth in frustration at Glenn’s relentless clown act.

“Tch… Pathetic. Fine, whatever. Just clear out the practice space already.”

“Oh, sure, sure, right away. Uh, if we clear up to around that tree over there, that should be enough, right?”

Glenn proposed a division of space, carefully considering what Halley’s class would need for practice—

“What are you talking about? I’m telling your entire Class 2 to get the hell out of this courtyard.”

Halley’s unilateral demand froze Glenn’s students in place.

Even Glenn grimaced, pressing a hand to his temple in protest.

“Senpai… That’s a bit much, don’t you think? That’s just plain overbearing.”

“Overbearing? Hardly.”

Halley spat the words dismissively.

“If you were actually serious about this, I might be willing to split the practice space fairly. But you’re not, are you? You’re not even trying! You’re using those deadweight, bottom-tier students, for crying out loud!”

“—!?”

“A class with no intention of winning, filled with useless weaklings, has no business hogging space like this. It’s a nuisance! If you get it, then get lost!”

At those harsh words, Glenn’s students visibly wilted, their expressions darkening…

—You think we’d let an inferior student like you participate in the prestigious Magic Tournament, Glenn?

—Get it? Scram. You’re just deadweight!

The sight of his students somehow overlapped with someone, somewhere, from long ago…

“Ugh… Man, today’s just one thing after another, dragging up crap I’d rather not remember… Ugh, enough already…”

Muttering something incomprehensible, Glenn ignored the confused students around him and suddenly thrust a finger right in Halley’s face. His robe, worn loosely with arms free of the sleeves, flared dramatically with the motion.

“With all due respect, Senpai, our class? It’s the ultimate lineup. Not serious? Throwing in the towel? Hah, don’t make me laugh! Of course we’re aiming for the top—championship, baby. You’d better watch your back, or we’ll have you by the throat before you know it.”

With a smirk curling the corner of his mouth, Glenn flashed a fearless grin.

The strange, commanding aura he exuded made Halley break out in a cold sweat.

“…Tch, talk is cheap, isn’t it? But the fact remains—you’re benching talented students like Sistine and Gibul!”

“Oh? I see… So, Har… something-senpai, you’re saying our lineup is just some half-baked stunt, huh?”

“Exactly! What else could it be? Using top students across multiple events is the standard strategy for the tournament! It’s not just my class—every class does it every year!”

“Heh heh heh… It seems not just you, Senpai, but every instructor in this academy is a clueless incompetent. To think you’d believe stacking your team with top students guarantees a win… Pfft! Hilarious!”

After cackling like a villain, Glenn boldly declared to Halley,

“Listen up, Senpai. We’re going for the win—all of us. When it comes to our shared goal, there’s no such thing as ‘key players’ or ‘deadweight.’ Everyone’s in it for each other, and that unity? It’s the ultimate strategy. Got it?”

“Tch… You think that kind of irrational, touchy-feely nonsense will work!?”

But Glenn shot back, chest puffed out, cutting Halley’s retort to pieces.

“Three months’ salary.”

“W-What!?”

“I’m betting three months’ salary that my class takes the championship.”

Glenn’s declaration sent a shockwave through Halley and everyone around them.

Especially Glenn’s students, who stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Are you insane!?”

“So, what’s it gonna be, Senpai? You in on this bet? Three months’ salary is a big deal, right? If you lose, your magic research is gonna stall for a while…”

“Guh…!”

For an instructor, salary is critical. Instructors receive generous research funding from the academy — at least on paper — but in reality, they only get a pittance. To make any progress in their magical studies, instructors have to fund their research out of their own pockets. Magic instructors might seem well-paid, but in reality, they’re always scraping by.

Naturally, Halley wanted to avoid the risk of losing three months’ worth of pay. That kind of loss would undeniably set his research back.

He didn’t think he’d lose, but a competition is unpredictable. Anything could happen.

And then—there was Glenn’s bizarre, overflowing confidence, his relaxed demeanor.

Does he have some kind of a plan—?

“Tch… Fine!”

But with students watching, Halley couldn’t back down now.

“I’ll bet three months’ salary that my class takes the championship!”

Sweating profusely, Halley declared with bitter resentment.

“Heh… As expected of you, Senpai. That’s some serious guts. I like it. That’s how it’s gotta be… Heh heh heh… Thanks for the easy win, Senpai.”

Glenn grinned fearlessly, exuding unshakable confidence.

“Tch…! You’ll regret crossing me, Glenn Radars…!”

Halley glared at Glenn with burning hatred.

The students watched the two nervously.

And then,

(…I screwed up—!?)

While maintaining his fearless expression perfectly, Glenn was clutching his head in panic internally.

(They insulted my students, and I got pissed and went overboard, but seriously, what now!? This is no joke! Three months without food? I’ll die! I’m not some ascetic monk from the East…!)

In short, despite his grandiose posturing, Glenn was utterly terrified.

A plan? Of course he had none.

“Damn you, Glenn Radars…! You, a mere third-tier, talentless mage with no pride or dignity, dare to mock me!?”

(Whoa, he’s pissed… Super pissed… Haha, crap, what do I do!?)

Glenn was already deeply regretting picking a fight in the heat of the moment.

(Alright… Time to grovel. That’s my only option. If I apologize sincerely right now, he might forgive me—Behold! My ultimate Original Magic, [Moonsault Jumping Dogeza]—)

Just as Glenn was about to chuck his pride, shame, and dignity out the window—

“That’s enough, Halley-sensei.”

A clear, cool voice cut in, stopping Halley’s words and stealing Glenn’s moment.

“If you insult Glenn-sensei any further, I won’t forgive you.”

The voice belonged to Sistine, who had somehow arrived on the scene.

(What kinda timing is that, you white-haired cat—!?)

Glenn felt like crying.

“You—Sistine Fibel!? From the prestigious Fibel family… Tch!?”

Halley visibly faltered at Sistine’s intervention.

“To begin with, your claim over the practice space has no legitimacy whatsoever, and your insults toward Glenn-sensei are unjust! If you continue, I’ll raise the issue of an instructor’s unfit character with the academy’s higher-ups. Is that clear?”

“Guh…!? You little daddy’s girl…!”

Clearly rattled, Halley faced Sistine’s composed smile.

“There’s no need for such vulgar disputes here and now. Glenn-sensei won’t run or hide. In one week, at the Magic Tournament, he’ll face your class fair and square…”

Then, with a strangely delighted, expectant expression, Sistine turned to Glenn.

“Right, Sensei!?”

“Uh, yeah…”

That was all he could say. Denying it here would make him the ultimate villain.

“Tch, you’ll pay for this, Glenn Radars! In the team events, I’ll make sure to crush your class first! You’d better be ready!”

(Why does the stakes keep getting higher!? Somebody help…)

While shedding tears internally—

“Bring it on.”

Glenn could only point his thumb down and make a throat-cutting gesture. Sometimes, you just have to go with the flow.

Halley stormed off, snorting and bristling with anger.

One crisis was averted, but the massive bomb left behind made Glenn slump in despair.

“…I’m kinda impressed.”

Sistine spoke up, addressing Glenn. The silver-haired girl brushed her hair back, looking off in a random direction. Was that a faint blush on her cheeks? Maybe a cold?

“I never thought you’d go that far to protect our practice space… I knew you were the kind of person who’d put yourself on the line when it mattered, but… well, you’re usually you, so seeing this side of you again… it’s, um…”

“Wasn’t really for you guys, though…”

“Hehe, being modest?”

It wasn’t modesty—it was the plain truth.

“Staking a price to pit your skills against another is the essence of a mage… Yeah, you really are a mage through and through, Sensei!”

(Why does she look so happy about this…?)

“Leave it to us, Sensei! You believe in us this much, so we absolutely won’t lose! Right, everyone?”

At Sistine’s rallying cry, the entire class nodded vigorously.

(Where do you guys get that kind of confidence…? Must be nice having nothing to lose, damn it.)

It was entirely his own fault, but Glenn was doing his best to pretend otherwise.

Sistine, unusually, flashed a cheerful smile at Glenn.

Glenn returned a strained, resentful smile.

“I feel like… we’re not quite on the same wavelength… Why is that?”

Rumia watched the two with a wry smile.

The practice days for the Magic Tournament passed by.

Somehow or other, Glenn had (through circumstances) allowed everyone to participate in the tournament they all wanted to join, and (on the surface) seemed to be thinking of his students’ best interests (or so it appeared). His influence over the class was surprisingly strong.

The morale of Glenn’s students was remarkably high, and they threw themselves into practicing and studying magic to win. There was no longer any sense of inferiority toward the top students of other classes, no hesitation, and no shame or concern about potentially embarrassing themselves in front of Her Majesty.

Everyone was desperate for the second-year division’s Magic Tournament, a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Meanwhile, Glenn responded to the students’ fervor with equal dedication (not like he could just sit back and starve). With an almost fierce intensity, he threw himself into their training and studies.

“Let’s see… [Granzia]… It’s three-on-three this time, huh. With one team per class, that’s ten teams total. But for the sake of the tournament’s schedule, there’s no time for round-robin or full-on tournaments. On the day, it’s a single match against an opponent decided by lots, and the point differential becomes the class’s score… Hmm.”

Glenn muttered to himself, poring over the tournament’s rulebook.

That day, in the classroom, Glenn was strategizing with the students participating in [Granzia]—a traditional mage’s game of territorial barrier conquest—namely Alf, Bix, and Cycer.

“Given these conditions… Alright, listen up, you lot. Use conditional activation formulas.”

As if struck by inspiration, Glenn looked up from the rulebook and scanned the three participants—Alf, Bix, and Cycer.

“You get that speed in constructing barriers is key in [Granzia], right? So, I had some familiars scout out the other classes… and there’s no mistake, they’re faster at building barriers than you guys. Every class is training to max out their barrier construction speed. If you go head-to-head with them, they’ll gobble up your territory in no time.”

The three students exchanged glances, as if wondering what to do.

“That’s where conditional activation comes in. It’s a passive magic activation method that triggers a spell automatically when pre-set conditions are met in a designated area or object. That’s the strategy we’re going with.”

“Conditional activation formulas… huh?”

At the mention of conditional activation, the students grimaced, furrowing their brows.

Truth be told, conditional activation didn’t have the best reputation among mages.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t be thrilled. As I taught in magical tactics class, conditional activation formulas have been used to death in curses and geases since ancient times. You know, the whole ‘Do this or you die’ shtick… But forget about that.”

Shaking it off, Glenn returned to his explanation.

“Let’s review conditional activation. Once the spell formula is set, it activates automatically. Since it’s in a pre-activation standby state without mana excitation, it’s ridiculously hard for opponents to detect. The downside? You can’t choose the activation timing—it’s entirely dependent on the opponent’s actions.”

Glenn started scribbling the strategy on the blackboard.

“In three-on-three [Granzia], the standard play is two offense and one defense: two build barriers to claim territory, one disrupts the opponent’s. But you three? You’re all defense. Focus solely on Field Break to destroy the enemy’s territory. Breaking is way easier than building, after all.”

“But that won’t win us the match…”

“Yeah, no matter how hard we try, that’ll just end in a draw…”

“You make them think you’re aiming for a draw.”

Scratching his head, Glenn muttered, I don’t love these sneaky tactics, but…

“I hate to say it, but to them, you’re the underdogs. Their pride won’t let them settle for a draw, and with the rule that point differential determines the class score, they’ll want to crush you with a huge lead. If you drag it into a stalemate, they’ll inevitably go for an Absolute Field.”

“You mean that barrier that takes a ton of effort to build but becomes untouchable once it’s up?”

“Exactly. And for the sake of racking up points, they’ll probably make it bigger than necessary. That’s your chance. While fending off their interference, you’ll set up a conditional activation barrier that triggers when ‘the enemy constructs an Absolute Field worth a certain point threshold.’ It’ll dominate a massive area. They’d never suspect the underdog, who they thought was playing for a draw, is actually aiming for a one-shot, point-heavy victory… Probably.”

Glenn’s voice wavered just a tad, betraying a hint of uncertainty.

“No way, a Silent Field Counter!?”

“That’s way too advanced for us…”

“But it’s your only shot. Go head-to-head, and you’ll lose a hundred percent.”

Faced with the harsh truth, the students fell silent.

“That said, if they play it cool, you’re toast. If they start building a small Absolute Field to secure a safe win, you’re done—your condition won’t trigger. But setting a small field as the condition won’t net you enough points either, since the effect’s strength is tied to the condition’s difficulty. If there’s enough time left, they could easily turn it around.”

Glenn scribbles with a chalk, sketching a rough diagram of the strategy on the blackboard.

“The key is forcing them to rely on a big move by quickly destroying their normal fields. Your success hinges on how fast you can pull off Field Breaks. So, you’re gonna drill Field Breaks like crazy. Honestly, just focus on that. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, Sensei!”

From a distance, Sistine and Rumia watched Glenn’s fervor.

“He’s really into this… That guy’s seriously planning to win with all forty of us…”

“Hey, Sistie, doesn’t Sensei’s profile look kinda cool when he’s that serious about something?”

Rumia beamed at Sistine, who wore an impressed expression.

“…Not really? I mean, he’s such a slob normally, so he’d better get serious like this once in a while, or we’d be in trouble.”

“Hehe, so tsundere!”

“…W-What’s that supposed to mean?”

Still, there was one thing that puzzled them both.

“But why does Glenn-sensei look more worn out by the day?”

“Hmm… Maybe he caught a cold?”

That was the biggest mystery surrounding this Magic Tournament affair.

And just like that, a week flew by.

Today was the day of the Alzano Imperial Magic Academy’s Magic Tournament.

It was also the day the academy welcomed Her Majesty, Queen Alicia VII of the Alzano Empire, as an honored guest…