SMMA 93

Chapter 93

“I think you’re mistaken—”

“So you did use lightning magic.”

Damn it.

There was no fooling Professor Volady. He had already deduced the situation by examining the burn marks on the slain monster and the faint residual echo of the lightning spirit still lingering on Ihan’s arm.

“Interesting…”

Volady’s quiet murmur, accompanied by the smallest nod of approval, was somehow more terrifying than any monster Ihan had ever faced.

“Wait. Wait a moment, Professor.”

Professor Garcia stepped forward, his tone polite but firm—and Ihan’s heart swelled with emotion.

Professor…!

“Professor Bagreg, why are you asking about lightning magic? What are you planning?”

“It’s necessary for instructional purposes.”

“Instruct… hold on—you mean Ihan is enrolled in your class, Professor?”

Garcia nearly blurted “that professor” but caught himself. Still, Ihan could tell exactly what he meant to say.

“Yes…”

“……”

Garcia pressed his fingertips to his temples, visibly pained.

He was a man who respected every member of the Academy staff—but that didn’t mean he approved of every class.
Among the lectures that troubled him deeply, Professor Volady Bagreg’s was top of the list.

Garcia found Volady’s course—Practical Magical Combat—far too cruel for first-year students.
Instead of teaching restraint or self-preservation, it trained young mages to keep calm and fight in extreme battle conditions.

Most students quit after attending once.
So Garcia had comforted himself with the thought, “Someday, Bagreg will come to his senses and change the curriculum.”

But it seemed someone had not only persevered—but succeeded.

“I believe you witnessed it before,” Volady said evenly.

“Witnessed what?”

“The fight against the anti-magic zealots. I mentioned at the time that I had trained him.”

“…!”

Garcia felt an electric jolt in his mind—memories flashing back.

The iron marbles Ihan had used that day—he hadn’t thought much of them, overwhelmed by the chaos of fighting the zealots.
But now that he recalled…

That was Volady’s style.

—“He shows great potential in combat magic,” the Headmaster had said. “Volady, you were his instructor, weren’t you? Remarkable.”
—“I wouldn’t go that far,” Volady had replied.

Those words now struck Garcia with ominous clarity.
What he had once dismissed as coincidence turned out to be the direct product of Volady’s personal tutelage.

“Are you alright???”

Ihan blinked—the question carried such weight that he hesitated.

How was he even supposed to answer that?

“I’m fine.”

“……”

Volady replied before Ihan could. Both Ihan and Garcia turned to him in shock.

“Wardanaz is progressing smoothly under instruction.”

“…Progressing?”

Garcia’s expression shifted from horror to silent understanding.

Sometimes talent itself was a curse.
It compelled students to endure rather than retreat from impossible lessons.

Such a tragedy…

Volady continued calmly, “Now you understand why I confirmed his lightning manifestation.”

“Hold on. So he’s following along—that’s fine,” Garcia tried one last time, voice trembling with stubborn kindness.

“But isn’t it too soon for him to jump from basic telekinesis to lightning-element magic? Shouldn’t he master a few safer elemental forms first—”

He froze mid-sentence.

Volady was smiling—ever so faintly.

What… what did that mean?

“So I first had him master the water element.”

“Already…?”

“Yes.”

The quiet certainty in Volady’s tone chilled Garcia to the bone.

Another professor could recognize that subtle aura of confidence—the kind that said:
“If he succeeded, it means my teaching works.”

No!

Garcia screamed internally. Of all people, why him?!

Volady’s warped view of magical education might someday be corrected—but right now, someone had to protect this student from him!

He pressed onward desperately.
“Many students can form water shapes quite early on, can’t they?”

Was that it? Ihan thought, puzzled by Garcia’s odd insistence.

“Perhaps it’s due to the element’s nature, yes?”

“I wouldn’t say so—”

“In that case, instead of moving to higher elements after shaping one form, shouldn’t one expand by learning to maintain and adapt that shape in different ways first?”

Volady nodded thoughtfully.
“So I also had him develop a water-shield spell. He realized it on his own.”

“……”

Garcia’s eyes widened in horror as he turned to Ihan.
The boy looked back awkwardly—as if to apologize.

If he had discovered that technique unaided, it meant he had already reached true comprehension of elemental shaping.
Someone capable of intuitively grasping form and principle could reproduce nearly any variant of the element—
an advanced skill that took others years.

Garcia was pale.

“B-but… even after mastering shaping, full elemental control takes vast time! At minimum, a student should be able to move shaped water as naturally as controlling your enchanted marbles—”

He stopped as Ihan lowered his head slightly.

No… surely not…

“I had him practice that as well,” Volady added, unfazed. “He even attempted spin properties, but I stopped him.”

Never in his life had Garcia imagined hearing Volady say anything remotely resembling ‘I care about my student.’

It was a nightmare—worse than any in memory.

And the worst of all—Garcia realized he had no logical ground left to argue.

His voice soft, heavy with despair, he said,
“…Please take care of him, Professor.”

“My approach never changes, Professor Garcia,” Volady replied coolly.

When their exchange ended, Ihan snapped to realization.

“…?!?”

That was it?

Wasn’t Garcia going to stop him?!

“Professor…!”

“Work hard, Wardanaz.”

Ihan felt like a cow being led quietly to slaughter.
Whatever awaited next week—it couldn’t be good.

Next time, I need to start checking for other professors before asking for help…

*        *        *

Meanwhile, Asan was walking with his friends toward the black market.

“This weekend, let’s treat everyone for a change.”

Do we really have to?

Gainando wanted to complain but kept quiet—he’d already done so once and been scolded by everyone.

Currently, the food situation among the academy’s newcomers was roughly as follows:

• The Blue Dragon Tower ate best, thanks to Ihan’s efforts to import and distribute food. 
• The Phoenix Tower accepted whatever meals came without complaining. 
• The White Tiger Tower, ever combative, hunted aggressively in the nearby woods and grew more successful each week. 
• The Black Turtle Tower relied on steady foraging, occasional hunting, and barter trades to cover gaps in supply. 

The Blue Dragon Tower students knew full well they depended entirely on Ihan’s generosity.
He had told them not to worry, that his contributions were cheap—but they couldn’t just sit idle.

They were seeking food sources of their own.
One of these attempts was today’s trip—to the black market near the Black Turtle Tower’s domain.

“I went last time—there wasn’t much food.”
“No, really. I checked a few days ago—there’s more stuff now, even edibles.”
“Apparently they started trading with the White Tiger Tower.”

Asan nodded.
“The longer it goes, the more goods will circulate. We’re going for a reason. And besides—”

He pulled a few glass vials from his coat.

Loot from the Thunderstep Laboratory dungeon they had recently cleared.
Every participant had received potions and reagents as rewards.

“The students from the Black Turtle Tower know how valuable these are. Better to trade them now, before they lose rarity.”

“As expected of Dalkard!”

Cheerful, they approached the market entrance—only for the guard to tense up upon recognizing them.

“Hey there. Mind letting us in?”

“S… sorry.”

“??”

“There’s a new rule. You guys can’t come in.”

Asan blinked—surprise giving way to disbelief.

“You’re restricting access? That’ll shrink your market!”

“We don’t care.”

A deep voice boomed from behind the guard.

A short, stocky figure stepped out—more muscular than most White Tiger students, body barely contained by a loose coat.

At first glance, he seemed a dwarf… but his ears said otherwise.

He was an elf.
A short, heavily-built elf.

“I am Salko of House Tutanta.”

The name was known across the Empire—one of the famed stonemason guild families, traditionally dwarven.

Yet here stood an elf claiming lineage from them.

“Tutanta… why block entry? Because we’re Blue Dragon students?”

“No. Admittedly, I don’t much like you Blue Dragon types… but that’s not why.”

“……”

“……”

“This rule has nothing to do with personal bias. You can’t enter because of the regulation.”

“What regulation?”

“If the goods weren’t obtained by your own labor, they can’t be brought inside!”

Behind Salko, the other Black Turtle students gathered—some rough-looking, others refined—but all clearly respected his authority.

Asan, frustrated, held up the vials he brought.

“We did earn these ourselves!”

“Really? Where exactly?”

“……”

He couldn’t say they had come from Professor Thunderstep’s laboratory.

Gainando jumped in with a hasty lie.

“Outside! Dug them up!”

“You scavenged that many from the fields? Don’t make me laugh. Clearly stolen. If you can’t name a source, it’s contraband. And while I lead Black Turtle Tower, no stolen goods will be traded here. They poison honest labor and disrupt the market.”

His words, annoyingly, made perfect sense.
The Blue Dragon students fell silent.

Gainando, indignant, protested,
“Then where are thieves supposed to sell things?! How are they supposed to eat?!”

“Hey—Gainando—lower your voice! You’re embarrassing us!”

The Blue Dragon students clamped his mouth shut.

Just then, Ihan arrived, carrying a woven basket.
Seeing his friends clustered by the gate, he frowned in confusion.

“What are you all doing? Not going in?”

“Ihan!”

Asan quickly explained everything that had happened.

Listening patiently, Ihan turned to Salko.

“I grew these myself in my garden. That counts as self-earned, right?”

“…!”

Salko stared, surprised—then slowly nodded.

“In that case, see you inside.”

The Blue Dragon students stood frozen as Ihan casually strolled past the gate.

“?!?”