Episode 37

“It worked.”
He swore at the professor inwardly but didn’t show it on his face.
That was what a seasoned graduate student was like.
Ihan kept his expression neutral and bowed his head.
“Thank you.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. You solved it with your own strength.”
“……”
Even though it was praise, Ihan felt a lump in his throat.
Just now, Professor Voladi had really fired that bead at him with sincerity.
If it had hit squarely, it would have at least cracked his bones.
If he hadn’t hastily lifted the bead with and blocked it, it would’ve been a truly dangerous moment.
‘Professors, really…’
“Let’s try again.”
This time, Professor Voladi took out an ordinary steel ball, not a spiritual stone, and threw it. Before the fist-sized steel ball dropped, Ihan cast the spell.
“Move!”
The steel ball stopped in midair.
Ihan hoped that the steel ball would accidentally fly out and smack Voladi in the jaw, but, having learned the trick, didn’t waver easily.
Professor Voladi pointed upward with his hand.
“Up.”
Ihan moved the steel ball upward. It wobbled a bit unstably but moved quickly.
“Down.”
The steel ball moved back down.
“To the left. To the right. Turn once clockwise. Twice counterclockwise.”
As Voladi issued commands without pause, he nodded.
“You’re using too much strength, but this is acceptable. From now on, we’ll train with this steel ball instead of the spiritual stone.”
“I haven’t drawn a perfect circle with the spiritual stone bead yet. Is that alright?”
“Try again.”
Ihan put down the steel ball and injected mana into the spiritual stone bead. Then he drew a circle.
“!”
Surprisingly, he drew a circle much more perfect than before he’d almost died just now.
“Intense experiences foster a magician’s growth. The spiritual stone bead was just an aid for magicians lacking in skill. You won’t need it anymore.”
“I understand.”
“Now draw a circle with the steel ball. When your skill reaches a certain level, I’ll prepare a trial like before.”
“…Excuse me?”
Professor Voladi thought there were two types of people in the world.
Those who freeze in the face of mortal danger and those who react even more fiercely and nimbly.
The latter obviously suited battle mages, and the boy of the Wardanaz family before him had those qualities.
There was no reason not to use those traits.
“……”
Of course, from Ihan’s position, hearing a murder warning, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted.
Ah, this school, seriously!

• * *
  He’d just barely escaped death, but school continued as usual.
  When class ended, Professor Voladi handed Ihan a steel ball.
  -Keep drawing circles whenever you have time.
  -Yes.
  -And never let your guard down, not for a moment.
  -…What do you mea—no, understood.
  Ihan felt uneasy as he left.
  Surely Voladi wasn’t going to stalk and ambush him or something?
  Of course, it sounded paranoid, but this school kept making Ihan that way.
  “Did you wait long?”
  “No.”
  Ihan waved to the demon-hybrid girl in priestly garb.
  She was Tijiling, a priest from the Prisinga Order.
  -Could you please look after Tijiling a little?
  Students of Phoenix Tower were basically thrifty, being from priestly backgrounds, and Priest Mehrid worried that young Tijiling might collapse from overwork.
  As a reward, Ihan had received three baskets of groceries and intended to keep his promise.
  ‘I’ll feed her well so I can get more baskets next time we meet.’
  With such a serious resolve, Ihan sat down with Tijiling.
  Perhaps because it was already evening, the sky was tinged red, and the mountain ranges encircling the school looked as though they were burning.
  ‘If only this place wasn’t a school, it’d be… no, why do I sound like some kind of prisoner?’
  Ihan snapped himself out of it.
  He wasn’t a prisoner. Sure, there were prison-like aspects here, but this was, undeniably, a school.
  “I brought the robe.”
  “Oh. Thank you.”
  Ihan accepted the priest robe Tijiling handed him. In return, he offered her round bread thinly spread with marmalade jam.
  Compared to the bread the school served, this one was soft and sweet.
  “I’m fine.”
  But Tijiling declined.
  “Is there a reason?”
  “Lord Prisinga suffers for our sake; for me to enjoy delicacies alone feels wrong.”
  Ihan almost retorted, ‘What nonsense is that?’ but stopped. He remembered he, too, had joined the Prisinga Order.
  ‘Oops. Nearly gave the Wardanaz family another bad reputation.’
  Ihan composed himself and nodded.
  For someone with such strong faith, forcing her to eat would not be easy.
  He had to feel her out gradually.
  “Oh. This bread is honestly awful. Maybe it’s so old it’s gone off. I don’t think you’d feel guilty eating this?”
  Shaking head.
  “This canned pickled beef is honestly the worst, isn’t it? You wouldn’t feel guilty about eating this, either?”
  Shaking head.
  “The person who baked this bread probably did it just for you, with all their heart, and whoever made the jam must have put in a lot of effort. If you don’t eat it and it ends up wasted like this…”
  “……”
  ‘Did that work?’
  Ihan saw guilt flicker in Tijiling’s eyes and thought his words had landed.
  “…Wait. Wasn’t that bread not baked specially for me? I saw it displayed the other day.”
  ‘Tsk.’
  Tijiling, spotting the truth, made Ihan click his tongue.
  A little more pressure might’ve worked…
  As Ihan kept trying to feed her, Tijiling apologized.
  “I really am fine. I’ll tell Priest Mehrid I ate, so please give it to someone else.”
  “Mm…”
  Ihan wavered.
  Actually, that would make things easier for him. He just felt uneasy about the lying part.
  Priest Mehrid had asked him to look after Tijiling out of worry (even giving extra baskets). It felt wrong to brush that off.
  If it had been a promise with the skeletal principal, he wouldn’t have hesitated to break it for even a second, but Priest Mehrid was a good person.
  While Ihan pondered, Tijiling took out a rough wooden cup, put in green tea leaves, and poured in hot water. Steam curled up.
  “One moment.”
  “?”
  “Would you mind if I made some tea?”
  Tijiling thought a moment, then nodded.
  She felt sorry for refusing food and couldn’t refuse this as well.
  “Yes. Thank you.”
  “You really will drink it, right?”
  “Of course. Why…?”
  “It’s nothing.”
  Even the Prisinga Order enjoyed coffee or green tea.
  Of course, with absolutely no sweetness, using only coffee grounds or tea leaves.
  Not only the Prisinga Order, but other orders were the same. They also drank beverages with no additives.
  The stimulating effect of coffee or tea helped priests meditate for long periods.
  Naturally, Tijiling thought the tea Ihan was about to make would be bitter, deep, and conducive to spiritual training, like green tea.
  But she was mistaken.
  ‘I’ll fill it with nutrition.’
  Ihan borrowed Tijiling’s kettle, filled it with water, and added black tea leaves to boil.
  To enhance the aroma, he ground fragrant spices such as ginger and cinnamon brought from Thunderstep’s Hut.
  But that wasn’t all. Once the black tea boiled furiously, Ihan added a generous amount of sugar. Seeing this, Tijiling’s mouth dropped open in shock.
  “What are you doing!?”
  “D-do you not like the tea I’m making? It’s a family recipe.”
  Ihan put on a genuinely hurt expression.
  Tijiling was taken aback at that look.
  “N-no, it’s not that I dislike it, but it’s so la—”
  “My family recipe is too luxurious!?”
  “It’s nothing…”
  Tijiling closed her mouth, worried she might offend any further. Ihan nodded with satisfaction.
  At that, Tijiling shot him a slightly suspicious glance.
  Surely he wasn’t acting…?
  ‘What blasphemous thought is that?’
  Ihan was her fellow believer and from the Wardanaz family—there was no way he’d invoke his family name to lie.
  Unlike demon-hybrid Tijiling, the Wardanaz family was one of the empire’s top mage bloodlines.
  Meanwhile, Ihan finished adding the sugar and poured in milk, completing the spiced milk tea.
  “Here. Try it.”
  Tijiling timidly brought the teacup to her lips. The sweet, rich, utterly new taste spread in her mouth.
  ‘She liked it.’
  Seeing Tijiling’s face relax, Ihan knew she liked it.
  No wonder—after nothing but bitter, tasteless stuff, this sweet treat must taste amazing.
  Tijiling finished it faster than expected. Ihan immediately refilled her cup from the kettle.
  Tijiling didn’t refuse and sipped, then suddenly realized and flinched.
  “Would you dare leave unfinished a tea brewed with my family recipe…”
  “Enough, please.”
  Seeing how well the milk tea went, Ihan prepared the next drink.
  He boiled water, added sugar, cinnamon, cocoa powder, and milk, mixed it well, then threw in some cornmeal.
  It was so thick it was more like soup than a beverage.
  ‘A truly diabolical plan.’
  Ihan admired his own scheme.
  Starting with a drink, then gradually serving things that bordered on soup, to break down her convictions.
  Once the cocoa soup was done, Ihan floated in a biscuit.
  By the time Tijiling realized, her bowl was already empty.
  “I won’t accept you saying you won’t eat going forward since you ate today. Keep coming here at the designated time.”
  “…There’s really no need to say it so dramatically…”
  Grateful as she was to the Wardanaz boy for his care, Tijiling was bewildered by the pointlessly villainous tone.
  Anyone watching would think Ihan was threatening her.
• * *
  Night.
  When the freshmen, clutching their hungry stomachs, were sadly heading to their rooms, or betting slices of bread over chess and card games in the lounge.
  At that time, Ihan was slipping out of the tower gate.
  ‘I am a priest of the Prisinga Order. I am a priest of the Prisinga Order.’
  Wearing priestly robes, Ihan looked every bit the Phoenix Tower student out praying.
  His goal was simple.
  To find the route the outsiders used to enter and leave the school!
  Once he found it, he could disguise himself as an outsider and escape, too.
  ‘I’ll conserve invisibility magic as much as possible. Who knows what traps there are?’
  Even though he had invisibility magic, he dressed as a priest because the school was full of all kinds of traps.
  If he entered somewhere and the spell wore off, his life would be in danger.
  If he wanted to survive here, one way wouldn’t be enough.
  ‘…Suddenly I’m not sure if I really enrolled in a school.’
  Ihan felt melancholic.
  How did it come to this…
  The first floor of the main building, usually packed with passing freshmen, was empty.
  The massive central staircases leading to the second floor or basement, corridors to lecture hall areas on either side.
  Sunlight made it seem elegant and graceful, but under shadow, the whole place felt ominous.
  ‘If there’s a place where outside workers pass through, it’s probably the first floor.’
  Ihan cast his gaze to the area behind the central staircase.
  It was where the banquet hall or large auditorium was. Freshmen hadn’t set foot there since the entrance ceremony.
  “…?!”
  At that moment, Ihan gasped.
  In the darkness ahead, another student was sneaking toward the space behind the central stairs ahead of him.