Episode 1186
by CristaeUnfortunately, there was still a lot of time left before Professor Verdus’s lecture.
The professors clustered together, checking the schedule posted on the board.
Which unlucky professor would become the next target of the fired-up Wardanaz?
“……”
Professor Yonramo’s face immediately clouded over.
Why does fate torment the good and let the wicked prosper?
“…Professor Reji. Hang in there.”
“Y-yeah. Verdus will have his turn soon enough. He’ll pay for those deeds.”
Even with his colleagues’ consolation, Yonramo stayed gloomy.
“What’s the midterm for Transformative Magic? The course Lee Han is taking, I mean…”
“It’s -Practical Self-Transmutation-.”
If you divide transformative magic into two broad types, one is changing other beings, the other is changing the magician themselves.
Naturally, the latter is more difficult.
You have to retain the soul’s identity while transforming only the body, making it more challenging.
That’s why Professor Yonramo steadily trained his faction’s students in how to transmute parts of their body first, instead of having them jump into full-body transformation magic right away.
And -Practical Self-Transmutation- was the course that tested the real results of that training.
Not just changing a body part—at last, a course to transform the entire body!
The gap in difficulty there was even larger than that for the spells of other schools.
“Isn’t that a bit much for a second-year to take?”
“Why bring that up now?”
Professor Thunderstep muttered in a drained voice, with which Professor Garcia nodded absentmindedly.
Really, it was awfully late to be surprised now.
“But if it’s -Practical Self-Transmutation-, there might even be an advantage.”
Professor Paselete, as a skilled divination mage, was quick to spot the bright side.
“No matter how much Wardanaz borrows the young headmaster’s wisdom, this is the sort of class where it’s hard to surpass the professor.”
“Oh, true! You see, Professor Reji?”
It wasn’t like Professor Thunderstep’s class, where you could just hand over a recipe, or one that the young headmaster could mark up.
A bit reassured by his colleagues, Professor Yonramo’s expression lightened.
“Thinking about it, there’s nothing particularly critique-worthy about this class…”
“Exactly!”
“And besides, Lee Han might well make a mistake and fail. There’s no need to worry so far in advance.”
‘I doubt that.’
‘Should we even fake agreement here?’
The professors hesitated.
Even unconditional agreement has its limits.
No one could imagine Wardanaz ever failing any class. Even Professor Paselete, who could spot the faintest possibilities, shook her head just a little.
‘I just can’t see it. Not a thing.’
“Y-yeah. He could make a mistake and fail. Anyway, the point is, like with Professor Thunderstep, he won’t surpass the instructor, right?”
“Did you have to name me?”
Professor Thunderstep grumbled in complaint.
It was bad enough to have his recipe marked up at his age, but now his peers used him as a constant example.
Just then, Professor Verdus, who’d been quietly listening, spoke up.
“Wait. Maybe Wardanaz really could surpass Professor Reji’s class!”
“Stop that nonsense and be quiet.”
Professor Garcia whispered sharply.
He didn’t know where Verdus was going with this, but it certainly contributed nothing.
But Professor Verdus simply couldn’t keep quiet if he knew something others didn’t. With an innocent face, he spoke seriously.
“If Wardanaz manages to transform into a dragon, things change. Professor Reji, you can’t transform into a dragon, right?”
A magician’s self-transmutation had the following rules.
The more complex and higher a life form, the more difficult it is to transform into.
And if it’s a dragon, the most complete life form, the difficulty isn’t just about the spell.
Dragons are protected by powerful magic passed down since ancient times.
Surprisingly, this protection applies even to magic cast by unrelated magicians.
Without a dragon’s recognition or permission, it’s almost impossible to mimic even part of their body.
“Stop spouting crap and be quiet. No one can do that.”
Feeling a sense of doom, Professor Garcia’s voice rumbled with a deep tone, like some beast’s infrasonic growl.
“Still, Wardanaz has generated a dragon’s body with magic before, even if only a part. That means he might be able to pull off a full dragon transformation.”
“How do you know that about Lee Han? You don’t even care about his ordinary life!”
Professor Garcia was genuinely aggrieved.
How could someone who didn’t know whether Lee Han ate bread or rice, whether he was in or out, remember this? And that was just a fleeting transformation from last year’s class, while Lee Han was practicing.
Even Professor Yonramo, who had overseen it, had likely forgotten, but Verdus remembered.
He truly never forgot anything magical.
Finally, Professor Paselete stepped in.
“You mean wyvern, right? Plenty of people can turn into hybrids with dragon blood.”
“But it could still be a dragon. Wardanaz is friends with a dragon.”
Now Professor Thunderstep weighed in. He could’ve stayed quiet, but Verdus was just so irritating.
“It’s not like just being friends with a dragon lets you transform into one.”
“But Wardanaz is a dragon’s contractor.”
“……”
“……”
The professors were all blown away. Verdus, not realizing his win, blinked and asked,
“Right? Pretty likely, isn’t it?”
Professor Garcia’s fist was being coldly primed. Sensing it, Professor Paselete stepped back.
Whether or not Wardanaz could transform into a dragon, Verdus might just get transformed into a corpse today.
Jarun from House Ironshoes originally had no intention of graduating.
While ordinary students obsessed with easy graduation, he decided to dig down into Einrogard’s depths in search of something more valuable.
But he’d changed his mind.
It was absolutely not because a junior from the same faction had cheered him on by stealing a Verdus artifact—he decided it for himself.
‘It has nothing to do with that. I just realized I can graduate and still look for what I want. That’s why I’m submitting my work now.’
Jarun muttered to himself as he prepared his submission, alone in the basement.
This cold, musty little basement room was his hideout and forward base.
No student could reach Jarun’s sacred workspace…
Bang bang bang!
“Senior! Are you in there?”
“……”
Jarun turned in horror at his familiar junior’s voice.
He could forgive the paper bird terrorism, but never imagined anyone would come all the way down here.
“…It must be a ghost of the basement. Mimicking voices…”
“I’m not a ghost! I can break down the door to prove it!”
Jarun quivered with frustration.
Why did this damn junior keep harassing him when he’d done nothing wrong?!
‘I need to change my hideout…’
Crash!
“What do you want?! Wasn’t our last job enough, you mole monster bait! Why do you keep coming here!”
When he opened the door, the familiar junior from House Wardanaz and his fellow White Tiger Tower, House Hormasi’s Carnella, stood beside him.
Jarun asked, flustered,
“Hormasi, what are you doing here?”
“Well, there’s a deeper reason for that, I suppose…”
“……”
Jarun glanced around. Even if they were a year below, dealing with someone from the White Tiger Tower was no joke in a fight.
Where had he put the hammer with the attack spell on it…
“Senior! We’re not here to fight! Please listen!”
“Didn’t that brat drag you here?! Who do you take me for, a fool?!”
Jarun raged at his junior.
There was no way that Wardanaz could find his way here solo as a mere second-year. Carnella must have lured him in.
“He did, but there’s a reason for it!”
“You just want to dump more work on me, you conniving bastards! Don’t pull any tricks!”
Lee Han, who’d listened in confusion to the blazing senior quarrel, asked,
“What work are you trying to assign?”
“By the time you get to fourth year, you’re expected to help out younger students. But Ironshoes Senior is always impossible to reach.”
The tall, slender dark elf senior shrugged as he explained.
Normally, seniors in fourth year took on some duties and helped their juniors.
Excluding rare exceptions like that one particular student, no matter how lazy or cantankerous, everyone helped at least a bit.
But Jarun, who fit right into the “crazy-senior” label, would rather get dragged to the punishment room than do faction jobs.
If Yukveltire saw it, he’d actually have rated the attitude highly.
Hearing all this, Lee Han shot him a look of disdain—very much the one he used on a certain other student.
“What? What’s with that look?”
“It’s nothing.”
“No one, not even a professor, can make a dwarf do anything! Remember that!”
“Yes.”
“……”
Lee Han’s silent, judgy glare made Jarun squirm even more.
He didn’t realize it, but that was nothing but the pangs of conscience.
When faced with a more diligent, upright junior, that was only natural to feel.
Jarun fidgeted, then changed the subject.
“Why are you two here, anyway?”
“My junior here wants to practice transformation magic, and I thought I couldn’t oversee it alone, so I brought them here.”
The short dwarf senior’s face twisted into a scowl.
Interrupting him for something so trivial.
“Just read the book and practice!”
“They’re past that stage—we’re on full-body transformations now!”
“…!”
Even Jarun was surprised at that.
A mere second-year tackling full transformation already?
“Still, Hormasi, can’t you teach them yourself?”
“I would’ve if I could! You think I want to traipse into this moldy dump? It’s just that they might transform into some rare animals!”
“!!”
Jarun was even more shocked.
Even full transformations into easy, ordinary creatures would be impressive for a second-year. Now, rare animals?
“If they were going for cerberus or something, I could help alone, but there could be a bunch of rare ones, so I need extra oversight.”
“…Come in.”
In the end, Jarun gave in.
Honestly, he was curious what rare animals a second-year junior would try to become.
When Lee Han and Carnella came in and stood (there wasn’t a seat for them), Jarun asked,
“What are you thinking of transforming into? Don’t make it a big deal.”
“In Hormasi’s view… it’s probably going to be basilisk.”
Carnella spoke in a serious tone.
For transformation magic, the magician’s intent mattered but so did the unconscious.
Otherwise, why would affinity exist?
It was a fundamental rule that you could most easily transform into something you’d grown close to from an early age.
And this junior carried a baby basilisk around every day—a reptile enthusiast.
-What a wonderful person!
The baby basilisk cried out excitedly.
How could someone have such a great idea?
“But for practicality, a unicorn might be better.”
-What kind of person says that?!
The baby basilisk instantly changed its mind and yelled in outrage.