SMMA 92

Chapter 92

Could it really not be fine?

While Tijiling silently wrestled with that thought, Professor Garcia kindly responded,
“As long as their mana is intact, they’ll be fine. Recovery is possible.”

“Ah… yes…”

Garcia smiled warmly, not realizing Tijiling had subtly taken a step back.
“Truly fortunate. Being struck by lightning is one thing, but damage to internal mana can be far worse—”

“Yes…”

“Oh dear, Tijiling, you can come closer. They’re all safe now.”

*        *        *

“Is everyone alright?!”

Dispelling his invisibility, Ihan rushed in.

At the very instant he cast the lightning, Perkuntla’s emotions had surged into him.
Just as the spirit could sense Ihan’s feelings, Ihan could, in turn, sense his.

We’re doomed!

That brief pulse of emotion was enough—when the lightning exploded, Ihan understood what had gone wrong.

That senile spirit, Perkuntla, must have lost control and overcharged the spell!

It didn’t occur to Ihan that the issue might have been his own excess mana.
After all, Perkuntla had been inside his arm helping to channel it—so naturally, who else could he blame?

And to be fair, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Fortunately, Professor Garcia had arrived just in time. Watching him catch the students safely mid-fall, Ihan breathed out in deep relief.

As expected—the academy’s only conscience…!

Seeing Ihan hurrying over, Garcia smiled benevolently. He had wondered who could have conjured such a lightning spell—but of course, it was Ihan.

“They’re all safe now.”

“That’s a relief!”

“They were slightly electrocuted, though.”

“…?”

Ihan blinked—his reaction almost matching Tijiling’s earlier one.

Two students showing the same confusion didn’t faze Garcia in the slightest.
A true educator answered repeated questions with the same composure.

“As long as their mana isn’t damaged, it’s fine. They can recover completely.”

“…Ah… yes.”

Like Tijiling before him, Ihan instinctively took a step back.
Seeing this, the already-retreated Tijiling nodded approvingly.

Welcome to the club.

“Gurgh…”
“Ughhh…”

The rescued students, drained of mana and electrocuted on top of that, looked utterly wrecked.

Watching several White Tiger Tower students still trembling from muscle spasms, Ihan sighed inwardly.

Damn. They’ll probably curse me anyway.

Anyone would, he admitted.

I saved you all.
Th-thanks… wait. If you had enough power to take it down in one blow, why electrocute us too?
The spirit helping me couldn’t control its output properly.
Do you expect me to believe that?!

It would sound like a bad excuse even to himself.

“Come now, everyone, try standing.”

Garcia waved his staff gently. The students’ tense muscles relaxed, and their lost mana gradually replenished.

Watching from behind, Ihan was distinctly impressed.

Wait, Professor Garcia knows recovery magic too?

From what Ihan had seen before, Garcia’s repertoire was astoundingly wide for any mage.
Most professors specialized in narrow fields, yet Garcia seemed capable of almost everything.

Why…?

“Th-thank you, Professor Garcia.”
“Truly, thank you.”

“Save your gratitude for Wardanaz here. He was the brave one who took down the monster and saved all of you.”

“……”

The White Tiger Tower students gazed at Ihan with conflicted expressions.

Angrago stepped forward to speak first.

“Thank you, Wardanaz.”

“If you’re unhappy—”

Ihan almost replied, Then maybe you shouldn’t have gotten caught in the first place, but stopped himself.
That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.

Huh?

He had braced for “You nearly killed us, you cursed necromancer!”—but instead, they genuinely sounded grateful.

Was it because they were acting polite in front of Garcia?

No. They meant it.
Angrago’s eyes held an odd mix of resentment and sincerity.

“It pains me to say this, but as a knight, I can’t ignore a debt of honor. You saved us, and I thank you.”

“Does that mean all the grudges between us are erased?”

“Hardly. Don’t delude yourself, Wardanaz.”

“……”

Ihan felt a tiny sting.
Would it kill them to let go of one grudge?
Alright, he’d done plenty to earn them… but still.

“However,” Angrago continued, “thank you all the same. Now I understand—at least a little—why Derregue trusts you.”

Following him, the other White Tiger students bowed curtly.

“Thank you, Wardanaz.”
“We may never be friends, but we won’t forget this act of honor.”
“We may never be friends, but we’ll cooperate on the upcoming lake project.”

Derregue, finally recovered, walked over beaming.

Seeing his friends thank Ihan, he seemed almost happier than if he’d been thanked himself.

“See? I told you, like Moradi said, he’s not such a bad guy!”

“Well… maybe not.”

“Then shall we build friendship and forget the old grudges?”

“Not a chance, Derregue. Don’t cross the line.”
“With everything that’s happened before? We can’t just erase it.”

“……”

Derregue winced at their coldness. He’d thought the mood was positive enough…

“Hey! You didn’t have to blast that hard! You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Because those White Tiger jerks were there?!”

Finally, Gainando staggered toward them.

From his point of view, there was no way Ihan could make that kind of “mistake.”
He must’ve done it deliberately—to show the White Tiger Tower brats who was boss.

Only, why when Gainando himself was one of the ones captured?!

“What ridiculous accusation is that… Prince, apologize.”

“Prince Gainando,” Angrago said sternly, “does your royal pride allow you to insult your savior?”

It was only then that Gainando seemed to notice all the White Tiger students still nearby.

Their cold glares made him flinch.

“But you don’t even know—”

“We may not have royal blood, but we know honor,” one replied.
“Apologize, Prince.”

Gainando, torn between outrage and the faint pleasure of being addressed as “Prince,” looked uncertain.

Ihan shot him an unimpressed glance.
“You’re not seriously happy they called you ‘Prince,’ are you?”

“No! I mean—maybe—but you guys don’t treat me like one!”

The Blue Dragon students were all from prestigious noble families. They didn’t need to bend to a two-digit-numbered prince.

But Ihan decided to spare Gainando further humiliation.

“They tease you because they think of you as a friend, Gainando.”

“Well… yeah, I guess so…”

His mood brightened for a moment—but the White Tiger Tower didn’t wait.

“No matter how close you are, proper manners must be kept. We thanked Wardanaz already.”
“Apologize, Prince.”

Surrounded by armored knights glaring him down, Gainando wilted.

Ihan thought wryly of all the times he’d beaten those same brutes senseless—
And yet even he’d needed effort to manage it.

“I… I’m sorry. For insulting my rescuer.”

“Be careful next time.”
“Honor is forged by one’s own conduct, Prince.”

The White Tiger students nodded solemnly at his apology, then marched away.

Ihan stood speechless.

Have they forgotten the time three of them ambushed me?

He opened his mouth to remind them—but they were already gone.

Gainando, still pouting, muttered carefully,
“But really… it wasn’t deliberate?”

“It wasn’t.”

“Argh… I honestly thought it was…”

It hadn’t been intentional.
…Well, not exactly.

*        *        *

Once cleanup was underway, Professor Garcia called Ihan aside, concern etched on his face.

Ihan knew exactly what was coming.

Perkuntla, you’d better clear this up for me.

Without some explanation, he’d look like a lunatic who launched lethal spells without care for safety—
an extremely dangerous misunderstanding.

Technically, this was your fault.

Alright, alright.

Though as frustrated as Gainando moments ago, Perkuntla accepted it.
He bore some responsibility after all. He’d been inside Ihan’s arm—he should have ensured full control.

But then—

—Wait.
?
Time’s up…

Ihan felt Perkuntla’s fragment fading from his arm—returning to the punishment chamber from where he was bound.

Ihan froze.

Don’t you dare!

I’m sorry, I swear it wasn’t on purpose!

Say something before you disappear! Now!

Next time I’m summoned, I’ll—really—show you my true powe—

You expect me to summon you again after this disaster?!

Even being scolded by a blue-haired novice mage, Perkuntla couldn’t argue.
He had no excuse.

I’m really sorry but—

Pop!

He vanished.

Garcia, unaware of the telepathic chaos, looked at Ihan kindly yet sternly.

“Wardanaz, earlier was chaotic so I couldn’t speak properly, but I must say this—
lightning magic, like fire, is one of the most violent and difficult elements to control.
It’s incredible that you managed it alone, but frankly, I’m worried.”

“Professor, there’s actually a deeper story behind that…”

Ihan recounted everything about Perkuntla—
though carefully edited, omitting the parts about breaking into Professor Thunderstep’s greenhouse.

Still, as he spoke, he doubted the professor would believe such an absurd tale.

There’s no way he’ll buy this nonsense…

“That’s truly unfortunate luck building up one after another!”

He believes it?!

To Ihan’s shock, Garcia bought every word. What a genuine instructor…

“I see. Well, I thought as much. You’re not the reckless type to cast something reckless recklessly.”

You can stop emphasizing that now…

“That spirit may be…”
“Clumsy and incompetent?”
“What? No! A being of that rank can’t possibly lack power. I think it just made errors because of how unusual you are as a contractor.”

“……”

Much as he respected Garcia, Ihan found that explanation… hard to respect.

Professor, you’re far too kind.

“There are spirits that deliberately lead their contractors to ruin—but from what you’ve said, that’s clearly not one of them. Just promise me: from now on, be cautious, and always consider your safety first when casting.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Lightning magic, was it?”

That familiar flat voice made both Ihan and Garcia turn simultaneously.

There stood Professor Volady, his cold, emotionless gaze tinged with faint curiosity.