Episode 702

“What are you doing?”

At the icy-cold voice from the senior, Lee Han answered quickly.

“I thought you looked cold, senior.”

“You call that a reason?”

‘Huh?’

Lee Han was slightly taken aback.

That would’ve worked on Professor Verdus…

Apparently, Yukveltire had a higher social intelligence than Professor Verdus.

‘Then why does he act like Verdus?’

While Lee Han was pondering, Yukveltire pushed aside the cloak and looked at him, his gaze half indifferent, half contemptuous.

“Try putting your hand back on the clock.”

“…?”

Lee Han was surprised again.

Amazingly, the upperclassman did not recognize him!

‘What’s going on? Is this beginner’s luck for the start of sophomore year?’

So-called beginner’s luck wasn’t just a saying.

Perhaps, out of pity for a brand new second-year, fortune was helping Lee Han out.

‘It’s not over yet. Just stay calm and slip away without attracting suspicion.’

Meanwhile, Yukveltire pulled out a small magnifying glass and examined the junior.

It was a high-grade mana-perception lens he’d crafted himself.

Even a mage can’t perfectly perceive the flow of mana with their senses alone.

No matter how peaceful a space might seem, countless streams and eddies of mana swirl unseen.

Even those born with innate magical sensitivity can’t fully sense it.

But this simple artifact let Yukveltire perfectly perceive the flow of a junior’s mana.

He was going to check for himself what exactly the junior had messed up to make the clock artifact stop.

Clink!

When he activated it, the lens shattered on the spot.

“……”

“……”

Yukveltire cocked his head. Then, he cast a spell on his own eyes.

“Pierce through.”

As -Vakantalana’s Blue Eye- activated, the expanded vision delivered a torrent of information to Yukveltire’s mind.

He was terrible with faces, but memorized magical patterns—so he conjured up the memory of the junior’s magic at once.

“Wardanaz house, second year?”

“…Maybe you’re confusing me with someone else?”

Lee Han, resigned, made a last-ditch protest.

• * *

Having recognized the junior, Yukveltire became a good deal more ‘friendly.’

Of course, that didn’t mean offering tea or snacks.

But by Yukveltire’s standard, actually talking first and asking a question was extremely friendly.

“Have you thought about research?”

‘Here it comes.’

Lee Han braced himself at the senior’s question.

Fortunately, he’d prepared an answer for just this situation.

“It’d be an honor, but unfortunately I already have a commitment. And that person prohibited me from participating in any simultaneous research…”

“Who’s so rude?”

“It’s Senior Direte.”

“……”

Yukveltire showed a hint of disappointment.

Since it was as rare for Yukveltire to look disappointed as it was for Professor Verdus, Lee Han was surprised.

“After everything he said to me, now he’s just hoarding you for himself? Disappointing, Direte.”

‘Don’t argue. Don’t argue.’

Lee Han resisted the urge to defend Direte.

Direte had once said:

-Junior, since you’re in Blue Dragon Tower, you might run into Yukveltire.

-What do I do if that happens? Should I play dead?

-That would work, but not on him. Yukveltire will just check your pulse. Just use my excuse.

-You mean say you can’t do any other projects because of you?

-…No! Just say you can’t join because of my research!

-Isn’t that too much of a loss for you?

-My life’s been loss after loss since I chose fifth year. This isn’t going to change anything.

-……

-…Sorry. That’s not something to say to a junior. Anyway, using me as an excuse is your best bet with Yukveltire. Oh, and whatever Yukveltire says about me, just let it go. The moment you argue, you’ll get dragged in.

His peers labeled Yukveltire as “Verdus’s protégé,” but he was very different from Professor Verdus.

Where Professor Verdus had no social intelligence, Yukveltire did—he just chose not to use it.

If necessary, he’d do anything—so you couldn’t approach lightly. It was best to keep quiet.

‘I’ll endure.’

As Lee Han struggled to keep quiet, Yukveltire gave a frosty smile.

“But I am satisfied. Direte has finally stopped coddling below-standard juniors and devoted himself to his own magic… Maybe a change comes with fifth year.”

‘…Will I lose if I challenge this guy to a duel?’

Lee Han nearly challenged him then and there.

Who else could manage to insult Direte that thoroughly?

Oblivious to Lee Han’s inner turmoil, Yukveltire replied in a cool voice.

“If it’s for Direte’s research, I’ll yield, for now.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I can always persuade Direte later.”

“……”

Now Lee Han was worried for Direte.

He knew from Professor Verdus what “persuasion” really meant: pestering you to death…

…He wondered if the protégé would be any different.

‘Maybe I really should take this guy out first!’

Unaware his underclassman was contemplating assassination, Yukveltire turned back to the artifact.

“So, Wardanaz junior… I wondered why the artifact crashed. You said you’re in quite a few disciplines?”

“Yes.”

“That’s probably it.”

Yukveltire gazed at the huge course clock artifact and gave an order.

“Eliminate all redundant classes!”

When you take many disciplines, it follows that your class list grows.

Yukveltire ordered the artifact to cut any class overlapping significantly with another.

And then…

Ting!

“……”

“……”

The clock froze again. Yukveltire’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

As an enchanting mage, his pride was wounded.

“I didn’t anticipate this case.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have remembered Professor Garcia’s precedent.”

“……”

Lee Han fell quiet, unsure whether to be happy or sad.

“Then… let’s try eliminating disciplines where substitutions are possible.”

“You can do that too?”

“Sure. I even worked in a bit of divination magic.”

“!”

Lee Han was startled by his words.

He’d suspected this was a complex artifact, but had underestimated just how impressive it really was.

Even divination magic was folded in.

“How exactly does this clock work?”

“It’s a hierarchy: disciplines, interests, abilities, as I mentioned. Then comes talent, and finally the professor.”

“Talent and the professor… Sorry, the professor?”

Lee Han repeated, sensing something odd.

He understood “talent,” but why “professor”?

“Talent is an ability you may not know you have. If a weird course comes up, assume you have a knack there. Last, the professor—which is basically how compatible you are with the instructor. After all, if you and your master don’t mesh, learning is difficult.”

“There’s such a feature?!”

Lee Han was in awe.

If only the principal used this kind of magic instead of one of the grand spells to find new Einrogard recruits…

“Shouldn’t you raise Professor compatibility higher?”

“What are you babbling? It’s the least important. In magic, compatibility with an instructor is a minor point.”

Yukveltire gave Lee Han a look of pity. Lee Han wilted.

Clunk, clunk, clunk… ting!

“……”

“……”

While they spoke, the clock froze up again.

The wrinkle between Yukveltire’s brows deepened.

“And now what’s the problem?”

“…Seems there isn’t a single discipline you lack talent in. That’s rare…”

Yukveltire looked Lee Han up and down.

He’d always figured him gifted at enchanting (plus a knack for spirits), but this was just preposterous—how could someone have talent so evenly across all disciplines?

“Sorry for not lacking any talents.”

“No, as I said, that’s my fault. Don’t apologize.”

A top enchanter isn’t afraid of having holes found in his work.

After all, every flaw improves the artifact.

…Not that he expected another junior like this anytime soon…

“Fine, then… Let’s filter by professors you’re least compatible with!”

“!”

Yukveltire made “professor” the final priority filter to eliminate options, and Lee Han was startled.

‘Who the heck would I get along with the least?’

Honestly, he was curious.

There were so many likely candidates, it was almost more intriguing…

Ting!

The clock jammed again.

“……”

“…Apparently, you don’t clash with any professors.”

“This thing is broken!”

Lee Han protested, incensed.

How insanely ridiculous is this clock?!

Or maybe Yukveltire had just slipped up with the divination magic. What sort of enchanter knows divination, anyway?

“Do you have any idea how much I dislike some professors?”

“I’m sure you do. But it seems those professors don’t dislike you. Judging from the results.”

“……”

Lee Han shivered at the senior’s matter-of-fact tone.

Judging by how some of those professors acted, it wouldn’t even be surprising if they forced the courses on him just to keep him from ducking class.

If the clock was foreseeing that—

‘That’s terrifying…!’

“No helping it.”

After some thought, Yukveltire spoke.

“Is there a way?”

“Let’s cut any courses you could self-study and only pick the hardest ones.”

“What the…?”

Clunk!

The clock rattled, spat smoke, and finally spat out a fully packed day’s schedule.

Barely a minute was left unfilled from morning to night.

Yukveltire nodded for him to copy it down. Lee Han, thoroughly dispirited, began to jot it all down.

“The -Wand Materials and Magical Amplification- lecture is worth taking. It’ll really cut down your margin of error when you start your own research. Bring these materials to the lecture beforehand…”

After the timetable, Yukveltire added extra notes on a few courses.

For -The Tragic History of Ancient Relics and Summoning Magic-, you need at least three mental-defense artifacts before attending…

As he took notes, Lee Han felt a rare twinge of gratitude.

“Thank you, senior. I didn’t expect you to explain everything so thoroughly.”

“I expect gratitude for spending time explaining. So, want to help my research now?”

“Nope.”

• * *

Even as evening fell after all the explanations, Lee Han and his friends got no rest.

Before exploring the tower’s new spaces, they had to first stash the smuggled goods.

“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”

Some went in personal rooms, some in a secret base, some in a hut, some in the second-year lounge…

With so much, even an entire evening wasn’t enough to get it all organized.

“Junior.”

“!”

As Lee Han was leaving the tower, he was startled to see Direte.

“Lower your voice, senior!”

“…Hey. You’re a second-year now. You can talk to me, you know—it’s not the punishment room.”

“If I talk to a first-year, I will get the punishment room.”

“What are you talking about? The first-years can’t even see you.”

“I’m the only one who isn’t under the ban.”

“……”