SMMA 108

Chapter 108

To quell his confusion, Professor Kirmin Ku decided to ask another question.

“What do you and Professor Thunderstep usually talk about?”

“Mostly we organize ingredients in his hut or discuss what things to cultivate in the vegetable patch.”

Kirmin hummed thoughtfully as he listened. It was clear Thunderstep was particularly fond of this Wardanaz scion; an alchemist does not easily open his hut to just anyone. Now that Kirmin thought about it, he had seen Blue Dragon Tower students occasionally carrying reagents that belonged in Thunderstep’s lab. Obviously, Ihan had distributed them to his friends after getting them from the professor.

Thunderstep regards Wardanaz as a favored alchemical apprentice.

“And Professor Lightningstep?”

“I’ve been studying the animals that live near the academy, and how to handle them.”

Kirmin glanced at the staff in Ihan’s hand—a sturdy rod containing a wood spirit’s presence, something only Willow would have offered.

Willow must also favor him…

Suddenly, the leopard bone summoning beast tied at Ihan’s belt leapt off with a clattering sound. With the firmness of someone scolding a pet, Ihan spoke,

“No! Back here right now!”

Whining, the incomplete bone summoning returned. Kirmin still couldn’t quite process what he’d witnessed.

“Sorry about that. Lately, that beast has become awfully disobedient.”

“That summon—is it…?”

“Ah, you know it? It’s from Professor Mortum.”

So, black magic too!

Kirmin, baffled, tallied the professors—so many had already made their approach, it was almost impossible to keep count.

Another odd question arose. Why would someone courted by so many professors still choose Bagrek as their mentor? From a student’s perspective, there seemed no reason at all to do so…

“Professor?”

“Ah, sorry, I was distracted by the beast. Its disobedience means it’s getting stronger.”

“So should I scare it to make it listen?”

“Undead rarely frighten; that won’t work.”

Ihan was puzzled. But what about those summoned undead that trembled in Mortum’s classroom?

Maybe he’s just not an expert in this field, Ihan thought. Professors were surprisingly ignorant about other specialties; Ihan didn’t let it bother him.

“Don’t worry too much—it growing stronger means it’s also growing smarter. For now it won’t listen, but eventually it’ll mature and obey you. …But, why is it so hard to collect enough undead bones?”

“Professor Mortum made me track them down around the school.”

“Ah…” Kirmin nodded—classic Mortum, always making students earn their keep.

“Rather than simply give them out, he wants students to have some fun… right?”

“Ah, yes, probably.”

Kirmin’s social intuition was remarkable; a teacher like Volady would’ve just called it pointless. “Still, that Sharkan is an exceedingly rare and valuable monster.”

“…Wasn’t it just a leopard?”

“Oops.”

Kirmin faltered—he realized he’d let slip Mortum’s intended surprise, which students might not even like.

“Right, a leopard. Definitely a leopard.”

Of course, Ihan wasn’t fooled. He mentally resolved to check the library for what a Sharkan really was. So it’s not an ordinary leopard… Hopefully not some undead monster that kills its owner?

Feeling Ihan’s gaze, the bone beast wagged its bones happily, and Ihan patted it. Be nice, and maybe it won’t snap my neck if it gets stronger.

“Anyhow, Mortum seems especially fond of you, Wardanaz.”

“He likes all students, really.”

Ihan was sincere. Few showed interest in black magic, so Mortum had even taken a liking to Gainando. Even those who came just to hunt black magicians listened well to his classes.

“No mage likes an untalented student, however kind he may be.”

Counting up all the professors Ihan had mentioned, Kirmin found the number worryingly high. Adding those not yet discussed, it was enough to worry about Ihan’s health. Professors so invested in an apprentice would never back off easily—he’d likely be summoned to every lecture. If Bagrek’s class wasn’t wearing him down already…

Should I really recruit such a worn-out student?

Kirmin pondered, torn between wanting an exceptional apprentice and not wanting to make life harder for someone already stretched thin. In the end, his desire to mentor a prodigy won out.

“Wardanaz, if you’re willing—”

“Actually, I’ve also met with the Headmaster.”

“…With Gonadaltes? What was that about?”

“He gave me a magic book. Could you check if it’s safe?”

Hoping for Professor Kirmin’s insight into the sinister tome, Ihan made his request. It backfired—Kirmin looked aghast. Of all the professors to cross paths with, it had to be the school’s top madman.

“…That will be hard, I’m afraid. But do your best!”

“???”

With a hand of encouragement on Ihan’s shoulder, Kirmin’s voice had a strange undertone—much like the sympathy older students offered trainees when they began working for a notorious professor.

“Thank you… By the way, Professor, I wondered about my suitability for illusion magic… Could you tell me whether I might do well in it?”

“Wardanaz, you don’t need to study illusion magic.”

“?!?!!”

Ihan was startled at Kirmin’s sudden reversal, as if flipping a coin. What’s this about?

Hang in there, Wardanaz. I support you.

Ihan had always thought students at this academy were rather subdued. Despite their youth, they were treated as adults, and their diverse backgrounds made them extremely mature. Even in Fundamentals of Magic, the students barely reacted when Professor Mortum entered; except for summoning class, responses were lukewarm.

But…

“Professor, illusions always block my path on the staircase—can you teach me how to dispel or break them?”

“Can you enchant black bread with illusions so it tastes like honey?”

“Can I set up intrusion-prevention illusion barriers in the lounge, and could Wardanaz or another first-year actually break through them?”

It was just black magic that nobody seemed interested in. All other branches drew avid student curiosity—illusion was popular enough that Kirmin was fielding his fifth question before class began.

Waving them down, Kirmin said, “Settle down, everyone. If I tried to answer it all, we’d spend the entire day. Let’s have a short experience with illusion magic instead.”

After finishing, he stood motionless. With the silence growing awkward, Gainando whispered, “Is something wrong with him?”

Ihan stared at Kirmin—sensing something off. Could this be an illusion? That would be impressive, considering Kirmin hadn’t switched places since greeting Garcia Kim at the door. He must have fooled eyes and ears and swapped his real self with an illusion.

As soon as he recognized the discrepancy, Ihan’s perception shifted. Since experiencing Volady’s murder-attempt—well, combat class—and learning to read the flow of lightning, he’d gained a kind of vision for magical phenomena.

In magic, each realization could open the door to new understanding. Ihan sensed that an invisible person was standing right at the desk between himself and Gainando.

“Gainando, the professor’s in front of you.”

“What?! Be paralyzed!”

Gainando, startled, instinctively cast a curse; he really was talented in black magic. Of course, Kirmin was not the sort to succumb to a first-year’s hex. He reversed the spell with a look of disbelief.

Zap!

Gainando stiffened and toppled sideways. “You found me, but don’t go cursing people out of nowhere!”

“Sorry, Professor,” Ihan apologized for Gainando, who was stuck frozen. Maybe Gainando really is a prodigy in black magic—it’s hard just to paralyze a single limb, but he’d managed his entire body. That was skill.

Kirmin restored his true location. Internally, Gainando pleaded for the curse’s release.

“As you just saw, I slipped unnoticed into the room. That’s what illusion magic can do—make yourself invisible, detect others’ invisibility, create confounding illusions for your enemies.”

Kirmin’s persona was dazzling; the students were already fascinated. Ihan thought of Mortum’s lonely black magic, sudden sympathy stirring again.

“But of course, you freshmen will begin with basics. Great mages possess keen observation. Look at your classmates—see if you notice anything different. Noticing a discrepancy is the first step to awakening to illusions.”

While students were distracted, Kirmin cast illusion spells all over the classroom. Soon they noticed subtle differences in friends’ appearances.

“Wait, you weren’t this skinny when you started school.”

“It’s from not eating, you dolt.”

After some trial and error, students from each tower succeeded in detecting the illusions. Kirmin praised their attention and gave the next task.

“If you can notice things just with perception, you’re ready for Basic Illusion Dispel. Try breaking the one I’ve cast here.”

Ihan joined the others at the front, inspecting the enchanted lockbox.

A Black Turtle Tower student, following Kirmin’s instruction, recited the incantation and swung his staff—the box shrieked inhumanly.

“!!!!”

“Never lower your guard when dispelling illusions. If you see one, you can be sure there are plenty more traps around it.”

Kirmin gave the student a warning and looked to Ihan, who raised his staff, focused on the box’s illusion, visualized the true reality beneath, and recited the spell.

“Vanish, illusion!”

The illusion dissolved. Princess Adenart, standing nearby, clapped softly.

But instead of praise, Kirmin gave Ihan a look of gentle pity.

“Wardanaz, you really don’t need to work so hard at illusion magic.”

“…?!!”