SMMA 56

Episode 56

But Rowena had no time to wonder about the secret of Ihan’s bone summon. The immediate concern was the mud golem before them.

“It attacks if you step out…”

“Then—is it keeping us trapped?!”

“Not yet certain. Let’s test attacking it!”

“Don’t! A rash assault could be worse.”

The students argued loudly, voices sharpened by fear, each unwilling to yield.

Afraid they would descend into fruitless bickering again, Nillia ran to Ihan. Only he had the authority to silence them.

“Wadanaz. Wadanaz!”

He stood frowning, lost in thought. She seized his sleeve, shook.

“Wadanaz!”

“Ah—sorry. What is it?”

“You tell me! Our… friends are about to start fighting again. You need to step in.”

He nodded. She hesitated, curiosity peaking.

“So—what were you thinking so hard about?”

“I was considering the situation carefully.”

Her long ears shot upright. This Wadanaz child always saw differently than others—valuing the rangers, honoring the hunters, keeping her close. Such insight—perhaps now he had found a solution?

“What? What did you figure out?”

Other students turned expectantly, hushed.

Slowly, Ihan said:
“My guess? This is all a trap from the professors.”

“……”
“……”

No one had expected that.

“Release him.”

“Calm down now, Professor Ingerdel.”

The skeletal Headmaster soothed, lifting the magical shackles binding Ingerdel’s wrists and ankles.

The elven swordsman stared in shock at him—and at Thunderstep, who stood nearby.

He had been walking with his students when suddenly the world went dark, his vision spun, and—teleported here. Kidnapped. By the Headmaster himself!

Mages—utter lunatics!

“I had reason to bring you here. You’ll understand if you hear me out.”

“What reason?”

“With a strong swordsman like you at their side, students would not be forced to face danger for themselves. They would lose their chance to grow.”

“……”

Ingerdel gaped. Such madness—so great, words failed him.

The Headmaster and Thunderstep, however, misread his stunned expression, nodding as though he had agreed.

“Yes, Ingerdel seems to understand.”

“I do not!” He clenched a fist. “If you want them to grow, there are countless ways: proper drills, duels, mentorship—”

The Headmaster shook his skull disdainfully, as if to say, Spoken like a swordsman.

“That is not how mages are raised.”

“Indeed,” Thunderstep added solemnly. “Challenge must be unknown. Expected difficulty does not sharpen a mage’s creativity.”

Ingerdel almost drew steel—but held back. This was a mage’s school, not a knights’ hall.

If only I could return to one…

“Perhaps you’ll understand in time.”

He ground his teeth. “Marching hours into mountains, under foul weather, ambushed without warning—that is your idea of a valuable lesson?”

Thunderstep flushed but answered, “No praise necessary.”

“That was not praise!”

His voice cracked with frustration. “The mountains are filled with monsters. Paths are treacherous. What if the students encounter something unpredictable—?”

The Headmaster and Thunderstep tilted their heads in unison, expression innocent.

“They’ll overcome it.”

“They must overcome it.”

“……”

Ingerdel sagged, exhausted by reasoning with mages. Truly, the higher the genius, the more deranged the mind. Professors of this place—for all their brilliance, half were madmen.

He muttered, “Fine. But if rescues are needed, if any go missing, call on me…”

“There, you see? Your mindset grows.”

“I did not change my mind.”

Thunderstep pushed a hot cup into his hands. “Do not fret. I prepared the assignments carefully. It’s nothing truly dangerous. Just bulls—strengthened by my potions.”

Yes—some enchanted beasts, placed where alchemical reagents grew.

He believed that when the students cursed him now, saying ‘Thunderstep, you bastard’, someday as skilled alchemists they would thank him: ‘Professor, you made me strong.’

“Bulls will suffice. They can handle it.”

At least that sounded better. Ingerdel almost relaxed. Strong students could manage beasts like that.

“They don’t breathe fire? Teleport? Wield blades? Bear curses?”

Thunderstep snorted. “What do you think I am, an emperor? Do you know the cost to enchant even one beast with that many powers?”

The Headmaster grumbled, “Boring. I wanted something flashier.”

“You can wish all you want, Headmaster. That won’t make monsters appear as you desire.”

Ihan’s claim had seemed absurd at first. But the longer they thought, the more students nodded.

The reliability of his reputation mattered. Had Gainando spoken it, they would have laughed. But Ihan, the boy of Wadanaz, would not speak nonsense without reason.

And—Thunderstep had a history.

Students remembered loudly the first alchemy class—where he had sicced a berserk boar upon them.

Would such a professor hesitate to spring a golem trap here?

“Then where’s Ingerdel now?”

“He’s in on it,” Ihan said calmly.

“Unbelievable—!”

“Professors cannot be trusted! None of them!”

Anger welled. Even Ingerdel, they had thought dependable, betrayed them?

Ihan eyed the scene coolly.

Too neat. They arrive at the place where herbs bloom, suddenly Ingerdel vanishes, then rain, then a golem appears… Coincidence? No. Too perfect to be random.

“Wadanaz. If this truly is Thunderstep’s trap, what do we do?”

“Same as before. We find a way past the mud golem.”

Though gloom weighed heavy, Ihan urged, “Don’t falter. If Thunderstep staged this, he also staged a solution. There must be a way through.”

“Yes!”

He was right. If placed here for students, the golem must be beatable.

Ideas sparked.
“Throw fire—or acid—?”
“Erase the line it drew?”
“Blind it—block its sight.”
“Try arrows first!”

Chaos of bad ideas. Asan grimaced, fearing madness. Surely Wadanaz must steer them now—

Rowena approached. “Her Highness suggests distracting it with spirits—wait. Where is Wadanaz?”

“Huh?”

They looked about wildly. Ihan was absent.

“Was he captured?!”
“I’ll break through to save him!”

Greater panic than when the golem first arrived.

But Yonellia gasped suddenly—there he was.

“!!”

“Wadanaz?!”

He stood calmly on the other side of the line. The golem had not struck him.

“How—?!”

“Magic. I used invisibility.”

He explained lightly. He had tested an artifact from his belt. Invisible, he had passed right through. The golem had not even noticed.

And better: once across, it left him alone, even after he canceled the effect.

“Already mastered invisibility—?!”

“No. An artifact.”

“Already crafting—?!”

“No. A gift.”

The Turtle students blinked. We never sold one of those…

“Who gave that?”

“The Church of Prisinga.”

“……”
“……”

At the name, both groups grimaced. Ihan winced, slightly hurt.

But though he passed, the others remained trapped.

“Call the professor!”
“Don’t send him alone—we can’t—what if he abandons us—”

“Don’t insult him. He’s no Gainando!”

“Sorry. Poor choice of words…”

Ihan ignored them all. If this was Thunderstep’s trial, no professor would return no matter what he said.

They must solve it themselves.

He readied steel beads, wand spinning.

The key is its core.

Every golem contained one. He would hammer its body until its heart revealed itself.

Yonellia cried, “But can you… break it?”

Indeed, even mud had bulk. Could a freshman’s spell penetrate?

But Ihan trusted himself. If this were a wild golem, hopeless. But for Thunderstep’s staged beast—its strength was measured.

Then it can be broken.

His staff swung. The iron bead spun wildly, then smashed into the mud golem’s body.