"Do you think recruiting believers is merely a matter of empty words?" Vega's voice was tinged with a hint of exasperation as he fixed his beady eyes on Victor. "Believers must be utterly sincere; only then can their faith have any real effect."
As Victor listened intently, his fingers idly tapped the edge of the table. The soft, golden glow of the morning sunlight filtered through the study window, casting a warm sheen over the open book before him. A faint, almost mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Sincerity? That's all it takes? I'm not the least bit worried about being able to win them over."
Vega squinted his eyes, emitting a low, disgruntled whine. "You might just be more conniving than the previous Victor," he muttered under his breath.
"Is that a compliment? I'll take it as one," Victor replied with a nonchalant shrug, his attention already shifting back to the lecture script.
Ever since this irksome crow had become bound to him, Victor had a nagging feeling that it was gradually losing sight of its primary goal - the resurrection of the evil god. With a sidelong glance, he observed Vega, who was perched on the desk, its head bobbing drowsily.
The lazy creature had developed a rather sedentary routine, feasting during the day and slumbering through the night, rarely stirring from its perch. It had become more of a decorative pendant than a useful companion. In just a few short days, Vega had visibly put on weight. Now, whenever it landed on Victor's shoulder, the added heft was unmistakable, a constant reminder of its growing lethargy.
Since the bird didn't seem overly concerned about their shared mission, Victor decided not to press the issue. Instead, he settled in for a quiet morning of work, poring over the lecture script and Erica's homework, the only sounds in the study being the gentle rustling of papers and the occasional chirp from Vega.
.....
By noon, Victor had meticulously corrected Erica's homework. Thanks to Hennie's painstaking preparation, he quickly absorbed the key points of today's teaching content. As he stepped out of the study, he was greeted by a bleary - eyed Hennie, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Awake? Time to get a move on. We're due at the academy," Victor said casually, his tone brisk but not unkind.
Hennie jolted upright, her eyes wide with alarm, like a startled deer caught in the headlights. "No problem, Professor! I'm all set," she stammered, her voice betraying her nervousness.
Victor nodded and instructed the servant to ready the carriage for the journey to the Royal Magic Academy. He then invited Hennie to join him, but the poor girl was so overcome with anxiety that she could only manage a meek nod before climbing into the carriage.
Once inside, they were seated face - to - face. Hennie kept her head bowed throughout the journey, her eyes fixed firmly on her lap. Only occasionally did she steal a furtive glance at Victor, her heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she was certain he could hear it.
In her mind, it was as if a volcano had erupted, her thoughts in a chaotic whirl. "I'm actually sharing a carriage with Professor Victor! This can't be real," she thought, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The confined space seemed to grow hotter by the minute, and she became acutely aware of the beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap.
Victor noticed her discomfort and was tempted to say something to put her at ease. But he held his tongue, realizing that any sudden words might only exacerbate her nerves. Instead, he let her be, knowing that the more nervous she became, the more her imagination would run wild. Sooner or later, she'd likely realize the absurdity of having slept in the home of a man with such a notorious reputation. The thought brought a faint smile to his lips as he watched her squirm.
For the entirety of the journey, not a word was exchanged between them. They sat in silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic clatter of the horses' hooves on the cobblestone streets and the creaking of the carriage wheels. Finally, as the carriage came to a gradual halt, Victor broke the silence.
"Here we are," he announced, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Hennie let out a long - awaited sigh of relief, her tense shoulders sagging. "Finally," she murmured under her breath, her eyes darting around as if she couldn't quite believe the journey was over.
After disembarking from the carriage, Hennie trailed closely behind Victor like a shadow. As they made their way towards the office, she summoned up the courage to speak. "Professor Victor, the dean wishes to see you as soon as you arrive at the academy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Victor acknowledged her with a nod and changed his course towards the dean's office. Hennie, as timid as ever, scurried along behind him, her steps hesitant.
Knock! Knock! After being teleported through the Mage Tower, Victor rapped his knuckles firmly on the dean's office door.
"Come in," a deep, gravelly voice called from within.
With the dean's permission, Victor pushed the door open and entered, Hennie close on his heels. Standing before the dean's desk, Victor wasted no time in getting to the point.
"Dean, I was told you wanted to speak with me," he said, his tone respectful but direct.
The dean was an elderly, portly man, his ample frame adorned with an array of mage - crafted trinkets and artifacts. He looked every bit the part of a traditional, wise - old mage. As the most powerful figure within the academy, a fourth - order mage, he was a living legend, known far and wide as the "Saint Mage." It had been a full twenty years since he had ascended to that exalted rank.
Upon seeing Victor, the dean pushed aside his half - emptied water cup, capped his fountain pen, and carefully placed it on top of an open book. His movements were slow and deliberate, a testament to his advanced age. With a weary sigh, he leaned back in his chair, the leather upholstery creaking under his weight.
"Professor Victor, I've heard about the incident in your class yesterday," he began, his voice measured.
Victor's brow furrowed slightly. He hadn't anticipated that news of Erica's antics would reach the dean's ears so quickly.
"You handled the situation admirably," the dean continued, a faint smile gracing his lips. "However... perhaps you were a bit too harsh? If this approach continues, I fear it may lead to discontent among the students."
Victor shook his head, his expression resolute. "If I don't take a firm stance, they'll never truly understand the importance of respecting their teachers and the knowledge they impart," he replied, his tone calm but unwavering. After all, he was Victor, and he had a well - earned reputation for not backing down.
Thankfully, the dean seemed to consider his perspective and nodded in agreement. "Hmm... respecting teachers and the teachings... indeed, a valid point. Truly, you live up to your reputation as a prodigious mage," he conceded.
"Now, the real reason I called you here," the dean said, rummaging through a stack of papers on his desk. He finally retrieved a piece of parchment and handed it to Victor. "This is the lecture invitation letter our academy has prepared. Please review it and let me know if you have any suggestions for improvement."
Victor took the letter with a sense of curiosity and began to read it carefully, his eyes scanning the words intently.
"I'm sure you're aware, Professor Victor," the dean continued, his voice taking on a more business - like tone. "In our academy, professors are required to conduct a monthly lecture. We plan to promote your lecture to the public in a month's time, inviting mages and industry experts from far and wide. The lecture will be recorded using magic - conducting stones and distributed for wider dissemination."
Victor immediately grasped the dean's intentions. "So, you'd like me to refine the content of the lecture within the next month? The academy will provide a lecture hall capable of accommodating thousands?" he asked for confirmation.
"Precisely," the dean replied with a nod. "Professor Victor, do you have any thoughts or concerns?"
Listening to the dean's explanation, Victor understood the significance of the upcoming event. It wouldn't be long before the academy's annual recruitment drive, and having a young, talented third - order mage like himself as a draw could significantly boost the academy's appeal. Despite his less - than - savory reputation, his skills and abilities were undeniable. If he could deliver a truly remarkable lecture, it would not only enhance the academy's prestige but also likely silence the rumors that had been circulating about him.
He thought back to the newspaper article from a few days ago and the promise he had made to Gwen. A powerful professor's love life would pale in comparison to his professional achievements. Once he solidified his position at the academy, he would be in a far better position to navigate the challenges that lay ahead, especially in the face of the impending death that seemed to loom over him in the coming years.
With a sense of determination, Victor nodded his assent. "I have no objections. I'll do my best to meet the academy's expectations," he said firmly.
Pleased with Victor's response, the dean turned his attention to Hennie, who had been standing quietly to the side. "And what of your teaching assistant? Are you satisfied with her work?" he inquired.
Victor glanced at Hennie, a faint smile on his lips. "I'm truly fortunate to have such a dedicated and capable teaching assistant," he replied, his words genuine.
With that, Victor and Hennie took their leave. As they walked away, Hennie's heart was pounding with a mix of excitement and disbelief. The professor's kind words in front of the dean had made all her hard work seem worthwhile. She couldn't help but quicken her pace, a newfound spring in her step.
In the afternoon class, Victor taught as he normally did. After the events of yesterday, the so - called "industry insiders" had vanished, realizing that there was no entertainment to be found at Victor's expense. Victor delved into the knowledge points with his usual clarity, and the students, including Erica, listened attentively, busily scribbling down notes. Erica, for her part, seemed to have put aside her previous animosity and was fully engaged in the lesson, filling page after page with her neat handwriting.
When the class bell finally rang, Victor began to gather his teaching materials. "Class is dismissed," he announced. Then, turning to Erica, he added, "Erica, please come to my office."
.....
In his office, Victor returned the corrected notes to Erica and patiently pointed out the mistakes she had made. "For now, mastering the teleportation magic with ease is still a bit beyond your reach, but your approach is sound," he explained, his tone instructive.
As Victor spoke, Erica listened intently, her eyes fixed on him. In that moment, it was as if the awkward encounter at her birthday party had never happened. Neither of them brought up the subject, and the air between them was filled with a sense of calm professionalism.
After imparting his knowledge, Victor nodded and said, "That's all for today."
Erica hesitated for a moment, then tentatively asked, "If I have further questions in the future, may I still come to you for guidance?" Despite her lingering dislike for Victor, she couldn't deny the depth of his knowledge. Even the private tutors her father had hired paled in comparison to his expertise. Under his guidance, the most complex magical concepts became accessible.
Unbeknownst to Erica, much of the knowledge Victor shared was gleaned from Vega, the all - knowing evil god. With such a powerful source of information at his disposal, teaching a student was indeed a breeze.
Victor pondered her request for a moment. "It depends. I have a rather heavy workload, but if I have the time, of course you can," he replied, though in his mind, he was already thinking about his strict work - life balance. He, Victor, was known for leaving work on time and never getting caught up in unnecessary overtime.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Victor felt a sudden jolt. The Mage Hand, the powerful magical artifact he had given to Lia, had been activated. As the source of its magic, he could sense the surge of power. He had only given it to Lia yesterday, and already she was using it? What a coincidence, he thought.
While he wasn't overly worried about Lia's safety, the fact that the magic's source was relatively close to the royal capital piqued his curiosity. He decided to investigate. Standing up abruptly, he said to Erica, "I have some urgent matters to attend to. Please close the door when you leave."
With that, he quickly drew a teleportation magic array on the floor and vanished in a flash of light. Erica stood there, dumbfounded, her mouth agape. Everyone in the academy knew that the Mage Tower relied solely on teleportation magic for entry and exit, but Victor's sudden departure still caught her off - guard.
.....
In the outskirts of the city, Lia stared in horror at the charred remains of a group of bandits. The acrid stench of burnt flesh filled the air, and the sight was enough to make her stomach churn. Beside her, several mages cowered in fear, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
They had all witnessed the terrifying display of power. The powerful second - order magic that had reduced the bandits to ashes had erupted from Lia's hand. Second - order magic was far beyond the capabilities of these low - level mages, and they couldn't fathom why someone with such power would need their assistance. In Lia's presence, they felt like mere insects, their first - order magic paltry in comparison.
Lia scratched her head in confusion and turned to look at the carriage behind her. She had prominently displayed the Clevanna family crest, yet they had still been attacked. It didn't make sense.
Shrugging off her bewilderment, she remembered that she had already sent word to Gwen. It wouldn't be long before the knights arrived. For now, she and the mages waited, huddled together in the aftermath of the battle.
Ten minutes later, a group of knights on white horses, their armor glinting in the sunlight, thundered into view. At the head of the column was Gwen, her eyes scanning the scene for any signs of trouble. Spotting Lia sitting alone on a large rock, lost in thought, she quickly dismounted and rushed towards her.
"Lia! Lia!" she called out, her voice filled with concern.
Lia looked up and offered a weary smile in return. "I'm fine, Gwen," she reassured her friend as Gwen reached her and took her hand.
"But those bandits who dared to attack our caravan won't be causing any more trouble," Lia added, gesturing towards the grisly scene.
Gwen blinked in surprise. When she had first arrived, her focus had been solely on Lia's safety, and she hadn't noticed the pile of charred corpses. Now, as she took in the sight, a shiver ran down her spine. As a great knight, she was no stranger to death, but the brutality of this attack was still shocking.
However, a nagging doubt crept into her mind. Could the mages Lia had brought with her have been responsible for this? She quickly dismissed the idea. The mages' weak magical auras were hardly sufficient to generate the kind of power needed to incinerate an entire group of bandits.
If not the mages, then who? A wild thought flashed through her mind, and she couldn't resist a half - joking comment. "Did you do this, Lia? Don't take it the wrong way, I'm just kidding," she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Lia looked at her, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "What if I said I did? Would you believe me?"
Gwen stared back, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You? No way... right?"