Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

Chapter 211: Monster [5]

With matters in Estelle partially settled, Vanitas returned home several days later. Yet upon his arrival, an unexpected guest awaited him.

“…Princess.”

“You really stood me up.”

It was none other than Irene Barielle Aetherion, someone he hadn’t seen in over a month. The last time they had met was during the gambling competition, which he had abandoned halfway through without so much as a word.

From the corner of the room, Evan bowed respectfully. The look in his eyes said, ’My apologies. We couldn’t send her away.’

Vanitas let out a sigh and met Irene’s gaze evenly. “Can I help you?”

“No, you can’t.”

“….”

“Not when you’re like this.”

“Huh—”

Before he could react, Irene wrapped her arms around him, indifferent to the presence of the Astrea estate’s servants.

“How have you been?” she whispered softly.

Vanitas froze at the sudden kinship, his hands twitching at his sides. But he didn’t push her away. He didn’t return the gesture either, yet Irene didn’t seem to mind.

Because Irene understood.

Even though he had stood her up, even though she had every right to be angry, she hadn’t chased him down. She could have, but she hadn’t. That, too, said a lot.

Vanitas realized then that she’d chosen to give him space to grieve, to process everything that had just happened.

“You have my deep condolences,” she said gently. “You… really had it hard.”

“….Yes.”

Irene tightened her embrace for a moment longer before stepping back, her hands sliding down his arms until she finally let go. Her expression remained calm, but her eyes were filled with concern, perhaps sadness.

“I don’t know everything that happened,” she said. “And I’m not going to force you to talk about it. But, just like back when you were a toddler, this older sister is still here to look out for you.”

Vanitas let out a dry breath, barely a laugh. “You always say the most embarrassing things.”

“Perhaps I’m just comfortable.”

Vanitas turned to Evan, who had been waiting silently nearby. “Bring us tea in my office.”

“Understood, my Lord,” Evan replied with a bow before taking his leave.

* * *

“I suppose you’re not here for pleasantries,” Vanitas said as he pulled out a chair for Irene. “I’ve just returned from a trip to Estelle, so I’m quite tired. My apologies, Princess.”

Irene sat down at his gesture, eyeing him with brows raised while thinking how quickly he switched to business mode, all so suddenly.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” she said, “especially not when you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Vanitas didn’t reply. Instead, he seated himself across from her and leaned back, folding his arms.

“Then let’s not waste time,” Irene continued. “I came because I was worried. And because there are things you need to hear…. You’ve made too many enemies, Vanitas. And too few allies.”

“I’m to assume this is trouble in the Theocracy?”

“Yes, you’re correct,” Irene replied. “And I won’t sugarcoat it. Your name and anyone remotely associated with you is practically blacklisted in the Theocracy.”

Vanitas’s voice lowered. “The pope’s propaganda?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Irene admitted. “Even I and my people are slowly being pushed to the fringes. And anything tied to Aetherion is being scrutinized, and condemned. It’s not just political anymore. It’s becoming ideological.”

Vanitas fell silent for a moment before saying, “How long until they move beyond words?”

“That’s why I’m here. I believe the move’s already begun. They’re organizing, spreading influence across the borders under the guise of missionaries and aid. It won’t be long before those ’missions’ become armies.”

Vanitas exhaled slowly, turning his attention toward the window. The late afternoon sun had begun to dim, spilling gold in the room.

“I suppose this was inevitable,” he said.

“No, it wasn’t. But it’s happening anyway. And you need to prepare.”

“And what of Franz?”

Irene sighed. “I hate to admit it, but that good-for-nothing brother of mine is actually doing a decent job maintaining diplomatic ties with the other empires. Somehow, he’s still managing to keep Aetherion afloat, at least, on the surface.”

“The civil war, then?”

Irene pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Yes. Despite everything, it’s the people within Aetherion he can’t manage. Those fools on the council are growing restless. Some of them are even demanding an extermination of the commoners.”

“Haha.”

“But you can’t speak either. The common people detest you just as much as they do Franz.

And she wasn’t wrong.

Ever since his performance in the Grand Cathedral, the story had spread like wildfire.

Those who had witnessed the event firsthand spread the story to every corner of Aetherion.

They spoke of Vanitas Astrea not as a scholar or a Great Power, but as a tyrant. A defiler of sacred ground. A man who not only went against the beliefs of the ruling elites but against the divine itself.

To the masses, he was a demon sent by the devil himself to defy the Holy Goddess Lumine.

Of course, Vanitas was well aware of the fallout from his actions. That was why the distribution of his businesses had been strategically divided, operating under various names to shield assets in case of financial collapse or a plunge in public trust.

To the public, Vanitas Astrea had become a symbol of sacrilege. But to his employees, the ones who truly knew him, he was still the same man.

A man who had just lost his sister.

Nowhere was this sentiment more apparent than in the winery Charlotte used to manage.

There, where she had worked with compassion and grace. The staff still remembered her kindness. And because of her, many of them had strong opinions against those Vanitas had directed his wrath toward.

And there were those who could think beyond the fanatical rumors, who understood the truth. They saw the destruction of networks related to demonic activities. The erasure of chimera labs and unholy grafting sites.

“Vanitas.”

“Yes.”

“Be careful.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

Irene’s tone held a tinge of frustration. She couldn’t help it, he infuriated her. Not because he was reckless, but because he kept choosing to do everything alone.

Even when leading the hunts, he still stepped into the battlefield himself. That wasn’t leadership, that was self-destruction.

Of course, she understood the necessity of his actions. She knew that blood couldn’t be washed away with principle alone. No one was clean. Everyone had red on their hands.

And yet, even now, despite everything, she still saw him as that little boy she once looked after.

“You keep walking through fire like you’re immune to it,” she said quietly. “But even you, eventually, will burn.”

Vanitas didn’t respond at first and just stared at the tea in his hand in silence.

“I’m not afraid of burning,” he said finally. “I’m afraid of stopping.”

* * *

That following week, with no other choice left, Irene was forced to remain in Aetherion.

She couldn’t delay any longer. Investors were growing restless, and development partners were pressing for progress after repeated postponements of the communication device’s release.

Time had run out.

Despite the pressure, Irene stood her ground. And finally, in these trying times, she unveiled the newly modified communication crystals.

Unlike the previous models, which only allowed vocal transmission, these upgraded devices offered far more.

The new crystals were capable of both visual and audio projection. With a built-in enchantment matrix linked to stabilized mana channels, they could generate a miniature holographic image of the person on the other end.

The quality was refined, clear, and relatively stable even across long distances.

Even more impressive was the layered encryption, coded through mana signatures. Each device could only connect with pre-linked crystals, making interception nearly impossible unless someone had access to the encoded binding key.

The first public demonstration took place in the capital’s Grand Market Hall, where hundreds gathered. When the projection finally activated, displaying a live image of a delegate from across the border, the audience was truly taken aback before bursting into applause.

But that wasn’t all.

Unlike previous iterations that required a constant stream of direct mana to function, these new devices could now be pre-charged.

A built-in reservoir, stabilized through layered spellformula resonance coils, allowing them to store and gradually expend mana over time.

This breakthrough, made possible by a collaboration between Irene’s own engineers and a select group of alchemists, meant that even those without mana could use the crystals, provided they were charged beforehand.

Irene turned to one of the lead alchemists on the project.

“You said you were brought in by Professor Vanitas Astrea himself?”

“Ah, y-yes! I’m truly honored to be part of this project, Your Highness!” the woman stammered, bowing quickly.

The alchemist in question was none other than Roselyn Clandestine, a rising star in the alchemy world.

Roselyn looked like she wanted to say more. She fiddled with the edge of her coat before finally speaking.

“B-but… if it’s not too much to ask, why did the Professor cross his name off this project?”

Her voice was laced with confusion, perhaps even disappointment.

It was a fair question.

Because the truth was, none of this would have existed without Vanitas Astrea.

The vision had been his. He had proposed the integration of encrypted mana signatures. He had refined the blueprints by hand, suggested methods for mana storage, and even predicted the sociopolitical impacts of long-range magical communication.

And yet, when it came time to announce the launch, Vanitas had erased himself completely from the equation.

Not a single document bore his name. Every patent, every paper, every public statement was credited solely to Irene and her team.

“Because it’d be a liability.”

“Ah…” Roselyn nodded slowly.

Of course, she wasn’t blind to the rising unrest within the Empire. And while she didn’t know the full scope of what was unfolding, she was certain nothing would ever be the same again in the following year.

Then, from the corner of her eye, something caught her attention.

“….”

A lock of silver hair glided through the crowd. It passed like a breeze, but it was so familiar it made her heart lurch.

“If you’ll excuse me, Princess,” she said abruptly, bowing in haste before quickly moving through the gathered crowd.

When she caught up, her hand reached out instinctively, grasping the figure’s shoulder from behind.

“….Karina?”

The woman didn’t turn.

Roselyn’s grip tightened. “Karina… You’re Karina Maeril, aren’t you?”

Even if her silhouette had changed, looking taller now, poised, more refined than before, Roselyn knew. She would recognize her anywhere. Her best friend, who had vanished a year ago without a word.

Her best friend, who had left behind nothing but questions.

The figure remained silent for a brief second.

And then, slowly, she turned her head.

“Long time no see, Roselyn.”

* * *

“Vanitas, put it over there.”

“Are you sure?” Vanitas raised a brow. “I think it’s better if—”

But as he turned around, the space beside him was empty.

“….”

There was no one there.

His breath caught for a second, and the book in his hand slipped from his grasp. It hit the floor with a thud.

He stared at the spot where someone should’ve been, then ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, dragging his fingers through the strands before letting out a heavy sigh.

These days, it felt like he was losing his mind. Whenever he let his guard down even for a moment, he felt like he could hear her voice.

Like she was still there. As if she had never left.

Charlotte’s voice.

And every time, it made the silence afterward even louder.

Evan stood by the door, concern etched into his features. Beside him was Heidi, the head maid, her expression laced with worry.

The room was in shambles. Books were scattered across the floor. Chairs overturned. Pillows and cushions were crumpled on the carpet, some torn open at the seams.

Glasses had shattered, with splinters glinting into tiny shards, and half-finished cups settled among the wreckage, surrounded by stains of spilled tea and wine.

As the maids stepped in to begin tidying up the mess, Heidi approached Vanitas and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

He glanced at her with narrowed eyes.

“Lord Vani—no,” Heidi corrected herself. “Young Master Vanitas.”

“….”

That tone, that name she hadn’t used in years, but it was the only thing that might still reach him.

Heidi had been there since he was a child. And more than anyone, she had loved Charlotte like her own.

She couldn’t watch him destroy himself anymore.

“Please,” she said quietly. “Get a grip.”

“What are you talking about, Heidi?” Vanitas looked around. “And what is this? Why are you all barging into my room like this?”

“Young Master… You can’t go on like this anymore.”

Her voice trembled slightly, but her grip on his shoulder did not.

“You think locking yourself in this room will bring her back? You think tearing this place apart will ease the ache in your chest?”

He didn’t answer. His silence only confirmed what they all already knew.

“You’re still here, Vanitas Astrea,” Heidi whispered, her voice gentle. “And as long as you are, you must live like it means something.”

From behind her, Evan took a step forward.

“I’ve known you for a very long time, Young Master,” Evan said quietly. “And though you’ve caused your share of trouble over the years, there were moments… moments when I saw you as my own son.”

“….”

Vanitas’s gaze fell to the floor. His expression didn’t change, but something behind his eyes glimmered.

“Get out,” he muttered.

Heidi didn’t flinch. “We’re not your parents. We know that. We’ve never tried to replace what you lost. But we’ve stood by the Astrea name for decades. And even now, we’ll keep standing by you. So please… rely on us.”

“What are you all doing here?! I said get out—”

Just then, one of the Illenia Knights appeared, saluting stiffly, his face pale with urgency.

“L-Lord Astrea! There’s a guest by the gates!”

Vanitas turned his head sharply, lashing out without hesitation.

“Take the damn hint. Send them away!” he snapped.

The knight flinched and backed off, but didn’t budge from his spot. Evan and Heidi exchanged a glance, worry in their eyes.

“T-That’s the thing…” the knight stammered. “We can’t.”

“If you can’t even do that, then what—” He broke off, exhaling sharply as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Forget it.”

Irritated but curious, Vanitas followed the knight in nothing but his robe loose over his shoulders.

Whoever it was, it wasn’t the right time. But the moment his eyes fell upon the figure waiting beyond the iron bars, he froze.

The breath left his lungs.

“M-Marquess Astrea…”

Standing on the other side was a woman cloaked in white, her ceremonial robes drenched and streaked in blood, with their sacred fabric torn in places.

“Saintess….”

It was none other than the Saintess, Selena.

….And she looked like she had walked through death to get here.