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13.33% Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor / Chapter 15: Silver University Tower [4]

Chapter 15: Silver University Tower [4]

Vanitas stacked the graded papers neatly on his desk.

The test wasn't just for scores.

It was to assess where his students stood academically, to determine how far he could push them.

Though he had played through this storyline countless times, experiencing it as a Professor gave it an entirely new perspective.

A quick glance at the pile told him enough.

The majority of the students were woefully unprepared. Their answers were riddled with mistakes or half-hearted attempts.

But there were exceptions.

[Astrid Barielle Aetherion]

Her paper was nearly flawless. Each of her answers were written with clarity, not to mention her penmanship.

Then there was Sophia Clementine.

Her answers weren't as polished as Astrid's, but they demonstrated a raw understanding far beyond the standard curriculum.

He tapped the edge of the paper thoughtfully.

"An overthinker," he muttered. "Needs refinement."

Flip—

It was followed by other noble kids, but their performances paled in comparison.

Astrid's near-flawless execution and Sophia's thoughtful approach had set a high bar.

Some tried to imitate their styles.

Others simply scribbled whatever came to mind, hoping for the best. Vanitas could tell that much by mere observation.

Flip— Flip—

Vanitas flipped through the papers quickly.

Occasionally, he'd pause, raise a brow, then move on.

The disparity in knowledge was glaring.

Eventually, he paused as a name caught his eye.

[Ezra Kaelus.]

The commoner who had ranked first in the ESAT examination.

"..."

Vanitas leaned back in his chair, scanning the messy scrawl that filled Ezra's paper.

His answers were unconventional, bordering on chaotic. Yet, somehow, they were right.

"Instinctual," Vanitas murmured, his amethyst eyes narrowing. "He doesn't know why it works. He just knows it does."

It was raw, unpolished talent.

The kind that could either thrive under pressure or shatter completely

Just like in the game itself.

Right now, there was no player. However, the one closest to a player was none other than Ezra Kaelus.

In the acts that followed, aside from the player, Ezra Kaelus was an indispensable figure, especially in the absence of the Professors.

As students of the most prestigious University Tower, they were prime targets.

Danger would follow them, whether they liked it or not.

That was simply how the game was designed.

Vanitas sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Truth be told, Vanitas didn't want to antagonize Ezra.

But he needed Ezra to know the harsh reality of the egalitarian culture the Academy entailed.

Ezra's arrogance, his carefree attitude—it wouldn't survive the trials ahead.

"Haha."

In any case, Vanitas could excuse his dozing off.

It wasn't entirely Ezra's fault.

The drawback of his stigmata forced him into constant drowsiness.

"Guess that's it."

"Uhm."

Vanitas raised his head, fixing his glasses. "You're still here?"

Karina was still here, standing still as if waiting for his orders.

"Aren't you going to have lunch?" Vanitas said.

It was currently lunch–time.

"No, I'll be here in case the Professor needs me."

"Well, I'm done for this class. The setup is more or less the same for my next lectures."

"I–Is that so?"

It was due to Karina's meticulous preparations before he even arrived, that he didn't have much work to do in the first place.

"Yes." Vanitas rose from his chair, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door. "I'm going for lunch. Take a break yourself, Karina."

Before she could protest, Vanitas strode to the door and left without another word.

Karina stared after him, biting her lip.

The room was silent, save for the faint rustle of papers she'd organized earlier.

She glanced at the empty desk, then down at her grumbling stomach.

"...I need to save up."

Karina's finances were tight, especially after recently paying her father's monthly medical bills.

To make ends meet, she had been skipping meals, limiting herself to just dinner.

So, with nothing else to do, Karina sat on her own desk and took out a small notebook from her bag.

[Vanitas Astrea 101]

[1. Wears glasses just to make himself look good. I'm 100% certain his eyesight is normal. He doesn't even look good with it.]

[2. Strict but fair. Except when it comes to Ezra. Pretty sure he's testing him, but it looks more like bullying.]

She had been secretly studying Vanitas, just so she could be well prepared for when the inevitable happens.

[3. Probably has never smiled in his life. Except maybe at that book he's always reading.]

Karina glanced at the door, half-expecting Vanitas to suddenly appear and scold her for her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat at the absurdity.

Eventually, she penned down.

[4. Probably schizophrenic. Often talks to himself, even when there's no one around.]

Karina nodded with a cheeky smile plastered on her face as she closed the notebook.

This was necessary.

It was for her survival.

***

Charlotte glanced around the bustling cafeteria.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, her wallet felt heavy in her pocket.

Vanitas had told her to quit her part–time jobs, and that he would support her financially.

But the question remained, just how would he even accumulate the funds?

Vanitas had told her not to worry about it.

He would handle everything. Charlotte only needed to focus on her studies.

She felt like she could cry. To think those words would come out of her Brother's mouth.

'He's not my brother…..'

He was way better.

That being said, Charlotte was able to purchase a full meal set. It was her first time.

—Isn't that Charlotte Astrea?

—I can't believe she managed to squeeze in the rankings.

—Shh, she might hear you.

—Right, because of that brother of hers, she's practically untouchable here now.

Charlotte tried to ignore the murmurs as she made her way to an empty table.

Some of the kids during her highschool managed to pass the exams. Thankfully, there weren't a lot of them.

Sitting down, she focused on her meal, her hands trembling as she picked up her utensils.

The food smelled amazing, but her appetite felt like it had disappeared.

'Untouchable?' she thought bitterly. 'They're wrong. They always are.'

She clenched her fork tightly.

The whispers didn't stop.

—How much do you think her brother paid to get her in?

'That's not even possible,' Charlotte thought.

—What a joke. That Brother of hers doesn't fare any better.

A lump formed in her throat. It wasn't the first time she'd heard these kinds of comments, but it never got easier.

'Don't cry,' she told herself, forcing her focus back on the tray.

She took a hesitant bite, savoring the taste. For a brief moment, the world around her melted away.

Hieeek—!

And then a chair scraped loudly across the floor.

Charlotte's head shot up, startled.

A tall figure dropped into the seat across from her, setting their tray down with a loud clatter.

'What the hell?'

Charlotte knew exactly who he was. How couldn't she?

Besides her, it was the guy everyone whispered about, the prodigy who had ranked first in the ESAT exams.

"Ah, sorry. Didn't see you there," he greeted casually, leaning back in his chair.

"W–What are you doing?" Charlotte stammered, glancing around.

Every pair of eyes in the cafeteria seemed to be on them now.

Ezra raised an eyebrow. "About to eat? What does it look like?"

"..."

Charlotte's mouth opened, then closed. She was completely at a loss for words.

Ezra unwrapped his utensils with an air of nonchalance, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to the stares around them.

"Don't take this the wrong way, the view's just nice over here," Ezra said as he stared out the window.

"..."

"Don't know why everyone's talking about you. But it's more or less the same for me."

"..."

Charlotte's gaze lingered on his tray. Unlike hers, he was barely eating anything.

A single apple, a cup of water, and a club sandwich.

"...Do you want some?" Charlotte gestured, offering a bit of her food.

"No, it's fine. This is normal for me."

"Is that so?"

"I need to get used to it anyway. Scholarship doesn't cover these expenses," Ezra said.

Finishing the last piece of bread, Ezra tilted his head, studying her for a moment. 

Then he asked, "Name?"

Charlotte, nibbling her food, paused and raised her head, "Charlotte."

"Charlotte, huh? Okay, I'll try to remember that."

Ezra got up with his tray and disappeared shortly after.

Charlotte finished her own meal, leaned back in her seat, and sighed.

"Haaa….."

The fact that he didn't recognize her left her stunned.

Almost everyone else had avoided her on the first day.

It was so different from her academy school years.

Back then, the higher aristocrats wouldn't just gossip—they'd pick on her openly.

Here, no one dared approach her. They would just whisper from a distance.

And she knew it was all because of one person.

Vanitas.

But there was still one doubt that lingered in her mind.

'Why do the spirits keep telling me he's a demon?'

He clearly wasn't.


Chapter 16: Silver University Tower [5]

The communication crystal in Vanitas's pocket had been ringing non–stop.

Communication crystals were generally expensive and difficult to reproduce.

Their scarcity made them a luxury few could afford, let alone distribute widely.

In any case, Vanitas was well aware who the caller was.

"Professor," Vanitas's deep voice cut through.

"You're finally here, Professor. I thought you abandoned me."

It was another Professor, responsible for alchemy related lectures. Claude Rosamund.

"Abandon you? Why would I?" Vanitas asked.

Along with Vanitas's exile, Claude Rosamund had been among the other convicts exiled as well.

Now that he thought about it, he had no idea what happened to Vanitas after getting exiled.

"You haven't communicated back. It's been two months, Professor!"

Vanitas made his way to a chair, propped his foot on the table, before responding, "I've been busy."

"Ah, research?"

"You could say that."

"I hope to see the fruition of your work, Professor," Claude said.

"In due time."

Vanitas glanced around, taking in the surroundings of Claude's office.

The room was cluttered.

Shelves lined the walls, crammed with vials of liquids, powders in labeled jars, and strange, glowing stones.

Papers were scattered across the desk, scrawled with alchemical formulas and intricate diagrams of magic circles.

All it took was one look and a bit of mana poured into the spectacles, and a bunch of descriptions filled Vanitas's peripheral vision.

———「Philosopher's Crystal」———

◆ A rare alchemical catalyst capable of amplifying transmutation spells.

◆ Reacts strongly to mana essence and can stabilize volatile mixtures.

◆ Stored in a reinforced container to prevent accidental activation.

———「Luminous Camellia」———

◆ A luminous herb imbued with traces of Zephyr and Aqua essences.

◆ Used in crafting potions that enhance mana flow or restore vitality.

———「Alchemist's Furnace」———

◆ An enchanted apparatus designed for temperature control.

◆ Runes etched into its base ensure consistent mana infusion during brewing.

◆ Essential for creating high-tier elixirs and stabilizing fragile concoctions.

Indeed, the items had already been registered in his spectacles way before his transmigration.

"Yes, Professor?" Claude said.

———「Claude Rosamund」———

◆ Age: 37

◆ Stigmata: None

◆ Essence Discovered:

—Pyro: Master

—Gaia: Grandmaster

—Zephyr: Master

————————————

"..."

Claude's magical prowess far exceeded Vanitas's, particularly in his ability to cast advanced spells.

But mage battles weren't determined solely by raw power.

It was a mental game.

Experience and strategy often outweighed flashy spells.

For how this kind of relationship came about, especially when the Rosamund family was an Earl Household…..

It was a contractual relationship.

Vanitas had seen the documents himself, absorbing anything he could find about the previous Vanitas's connections.

"How's the Rosamund Family holding up these days?" Vanitas asked.

"We've recovered from the brink of collapse," Claude replied.

He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Also, I haven't said this before, but…. thanks to the Professor's financial support, I was able to send my son to a good school."

Indeed, the Rosamund Household was on the edge of bankruptcy. 

But after meeting the previous Vanitas, the two had entered a subordinate—servant relationship.

At least, that was the conclusion Vanitas drew from the facts he'd managed to piece together.

The two continued their conversation as Vanitas fluidly steered the conversation, extracting fact after fact.

All while remaining unsuspicious.

Vanitas stood up, preparing to leave, when the door abruptly swung open.

"Ah!"

Crack!

A woman, with disheveled dark brown hair stumbled before him.

Several vials slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor, as the liquid splashed onto Vanitas's coat.

"Ugh!" Claude shot up from his seat, his face contorting in anger. "Idiot! Do you have any idea what you've done!?"

The woman blinked rapidly, her pink eyes wide as she fumbled on the ground, searching for her fallen glasses.

"I—I'm sorry! I didn't mean—!"

"Sorry won't fix this mess!" Claude bellowed. "Do you realize who you just splashed with your incompetence!?"

Vanitas glanced down at his stained coat, remaining silent.

"W–where is—Ah?" The woman's hands patted the floor desperately.

"Here," Vanitas handed her glasses back and helped the woman up.

The woman hesitated before quickly adjusting her glasses on her face, pink eyes now focused on his as she stood.

"I—I'll clean this up right away—Akh!" 

As she reached for the shards, one sliced across her finger, drawing a thin line of crimson.

The woman hissed, clutching her hand as tears welled in her eyes.

Claude scoffed. "Of course. More clumsiness. Do you have any idea how—"

"Enough," Vanitas interrupted, his tone cold.

He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, and crouched down to her level.

"Hold still."

"Ah."

The woman blinked, startled, as Vanitas wrapped the handkerchief around her injured finger.

"Glass shards can infect wounds. Don't be careless," Vanitas said, tying the fabric in place.

She looked down, her cheeks flushed. "Th–Thank you, Professor."

Vanitas straightened, fixing his collar and turned around. His sharp gaze cut back to Claude.

"Ensure this doesn't happen again. Train your staff properly," Vanitas said before brushing past them.

"..."

Claude opened his mouth to respond, but the weight of Vanitas's stare silenced him.

She stood frozen, clutching her bandaged hand as Vanitas left the room, his blazer swaying slightly with each step.

From behind the door, he could hear the commotion come through.

—If you think I'm scary, then you've never met Professor Vanitas. You're lucky he let you off so lightly.

—Y–Yes! I'll clean up quickly!

A slight smirk creeped on Vanitas's features.

———「Roselyn Clandestine」———

◆ Age: 23

◆ Stigmata: Calculation

◆ Essence Discovered:

—Pyro: Beginner

—Aether: Intermediate

—Aqua: Intermediate

————————————

"Roselyn Clandestine, huh?"

In every playthrough of the game, Roselyn Clandestine, Claude's assistant, met a tragic fate.

She was the true genius behind Claude's accomplishments, tirelessly working behind the scenes.

Claude constantly berated her, feeding her false promises that her thesis would one day gain recognition.

But those promises were lies. Each year, Claude stole her research, presenting it at the Summit as his own while never crediting her contributions.

In the end, Roselyn, powerless and unable to endure it any longer, took her own life.

Her talent couldn't go to waste. Especially with a stigmata like 「Calculation」.

In his new reality, Vanitas only had one playthrough.

So, if possible, he planned on avoiding every bad ending.

"Not like I've even reached the true ending."

Slap—!

A sharp sound echoed from behind the door.

Vanitas turned on his heel, walking away as he muttered under his breath.

"Garbage."

***

Vanitas's lectures continued in the afternoon.

However, it was for a different class this time.

"You, over there," Vanitas said, pointing a finger. "Stand up and tell us how magic is classified, starting from the bottom."

The boy, visibly startled, stood up hastily, nearly knocking over his chair.

"Y–Yes, Professor!" he stammered.

"What's your name?"

"Liam Frey, sir."

"Good. Proceed, Liam."

Liam cleared his throat nervously, his hands gripping the edges of his desk as he spoke.

"Magic is divided into seven ranks, Professor."

"And those are?" Vanitas inquired.

"Starting from Beginner, then Intermediate, Advanced, Master, Grandmaster, Sovereign, and Mythic."

Vanitas nodded. "Continue. Describe each rank briefly."

"Yes, Professor," Liam replied, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "Beginner spells are basic. Like fireballs or simple water splashes. They're easy to learn and don't require much mana."

"And the next?" Vanitas prompted.

"Intermediate spells are stronger," Liam continued. "They can create fire waves or strong gusts of wind. They require more mana and understanding of magical flow."

Vanitas leaned against his desk with his arms crossed. "Advanced?"

"Advanced spells are large-scale," Liam said, glancing briefly at his classmates before focusing back on Vanitas. "They're powerful but need significant mana and precision."

"Good. Master?"

"Master spells…. affect wide areas," Liam said, hesitating for a moment. "They're used in major battles or by skilled mages."

"Grandmaster."

"High-level spells capable of devastation," Liam answered quickly. "Only the most talented mages can cast them and require a deep understanding."

"And Sovereign?"

Liam hesitated, his brow furrowing. "Sovereign spells…. are used by the elite. They're spells of immense power and almost unattainable for most mages."

"And Mythic?"

"..."

The room went silent. Liam's hands trembled slightly before he responded.

"Mythic spells are the stuff of legends. But from what I know they're impossible to learn without ancient knowledge or absurd mana reserves."

Vanitas straightened. "Well done, Liam. Sit."

Indeed, apart from the player, no mage had ever been known to wield Mythic spells, let alone comprehend the spellformulas behind them.

Vanitas turned to the rest of the class, his voice cutting through the silence. 

"Liam provided a textbook definition of magic ranks. But understanding ranks isn't about memorization. It's about application."

He began writing on the blackboard.

"To be recognized at a rank," Vanitas explained as he wrote, "a mage must cast a minimum of five spells at that rank under observation."

Vanitas turned back to the class.

"For example, to be considered a Grandmaster in Aqua magic, a mage must cast five verified Grandmaster—level Aqua spells."

The room was silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Who here believes they could achieve Grandmaster rank?" Vanitas asked, scanning the room.

No one raised their hand.

"Good," Vanitas said with a smirk. "Ambition without preparation is arrogance."

He pointed at a boy near the front. "You. What's your name?"

"Brandon Locke, Professor."

"Brandon, tell us why a mage's rank matters."

"It determines the level of spells they can cast and…. their credibility as a mage."

"Credibility," Vanitas repeated. "And why does credibility matter?"

"For… for opportunities, Professor," he stammered. "Higher ranks open doors for positions and recognition."

"Correct," Vanitas said. "But it's not just about recognition. A higher rank means responsibility. Influence. Power."

He paused, letting the words settle.

"But power without discipline is dangerous."

Vanitas tapped the blackboard, his gaze cold.

"Many of you aspire to become Grandmasters or Sovereigns. Let me tell you this.

Vanitas closed his eyes, allowing the tension to sink in, then continued.

"Ambition alone won't get you there. Discipline and adaptability will."

The class was silent.

"To end this session," Vanitas said. "I'll leave you with an exercise. Research five spells for your chosen essence. Determine their rank and be ready to explain why tomorrow."

He clapped his hands, signaling the end of the lecture.

The students began packing up, murmurs filling the room.

Vanitas watched them leave, his mind already analyzing the dynamics of the class.

"A bunch of named characters. They're all capable. Surprisingly enough, this class is way better than the one Ezra is in," he muttered to himself.

"Professor?"

"Ah?"

He forgot. Karina was still in the room.

Karina hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. 

"In your lecture, you emphasized discipline and adaptability over ambition for reaching higher ranks. But doesn't adaptability also depend on understanding multiple essences?"

Vanitas tilted his head, intrigued. 

"Go on."

"For instance," Karina continued, "a mage focused solely on Pyro might struggle in situations requiring Aqua. Does that make higher ranks easier for those with multiple essences?"

Vanitas smirked, pacing toward the board. 

"Adaptability includes versatility, yes. But it's not just about having multiple tools—it's about knowing how to use them. A Grandmaster Pyro mage who mastered their craft, could still outclass a dual-essence mage with shallow knowledge."

Karina nodded. "So depth matters more than quantity?"

"Precisely. But those rare few who master both? They define history," Vanitas said.

"Thank you, Professor," Karina replied, though her mind lingered on his words.

Vanitas paused. "Anything else?"

"In that case," she asked, "what's more valuable for a Sovereign? Diversity in essence or specialization?"

Vanitas smirked faintly. "Wrong question."

Karina blinked. "Wrong?"

"The right question is what will you bet your life on? Because that's what it takes to reach Sovereign rank. Of course, talent also plays a role when it comes to understanding. But once you choose, there's no turning back."

She stood silent, absorbing his words.

Vanitas turned to his desk. "Now, take a break. I expect those papers sorted by evening."

"Yes, Professor."


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