Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

Chapter 238: Summit [1]

“Are you not going to start a frontal assault, Vice-Admiral?”

“A frontal assault?” Iridelle gave Karina a tired look. “Karina, I understand the urgency, and I admire your sense of justice, but attacking the Theocracy outright could start a continental war. Zyphran isn’t in the greatest position right now. You know that.”

“That’s not what I mean. As I told you, they must have the Sword Saint captive somewhere. Isn’t that enough justification for the Great Powers to act?”

The Great Powers operated without the permission of any nation. On paper, they were above political influence and free to engage wherever they believed balance had been disturbed.

But that was only on the surface. In reality, their neutrality depended entirely on whether a Great Power held personal biases.

And Iridelle Vermillion had biases that kept her tied to the Zyphran Dominion, whether she admitted it or not.

Iridelle crossed her arms and stared down at the distant lights of Aetherion. “Even if we act without the Dominion’s approval, crossing that line will set everything on fire. The Great Powers may be independent, but consequences never are.”

They had already returned to the capital after finishing their business in the north. The Red Moon above shone, staining the clouds with a deep shade of crimson.

Most provinces were occupied with fending off the onslaught of monsters that emerged during this period. Yet, unlike the Red Moons of the past, there was no panic sweeping across the continent.

Last year, Vanitas Astrea had published strategies and detailed guides on how to respond to the Red Moon’s monster waves. Those methods had been adopted by every major nation, refined by scholars, military tacticians, and adventurers alike.

What used to be a catastrophic, century-long nightmare now felt closer to a routine cleaning.

Communication lines between districts remained open and stable because Vanitas Astrea’s framework made predicting the Red Moon’s flow possible. His research had reshaped entire infrastructures, saved thousands of lives, and given nations a level of preparedness they had never known before.

Truly, no one could deny that Vanitas Astrea was one of the greatest scholars of this era.

“Remember, Karina, you are not of Aetherion anymore. You cannot meddle in its affairs.”

Karina said nothing. They walked through the streets of Aetherion in silence.

Around them, chaos brewed.

Riots surged along both sides of the avenue. Torches flickered like angry stars. Protesters roared their fury toward the sky, voices howling as they shouted, “Down with Aetherion!”

Karina’s gaze followed the crowd, her expression tightening. These were the working-class citizens, the same people who had endured unbearable inequality under the Empire’s boot.

Poverty had hollowed out these streets for decades, leaving families desperate and hungry. And now, with the Empress dead and the nobles in panic, the nation’s decay had burst open.

But neither Karina nor Iridelle slowed their steps. They moved through the unrest untouched as the masses were too preoccupied with their own rage to pay attention to two hooded women.

This was the lower district of Aetherion’s capital. The people here had spent their entire lives choking on the nobility’s greed.

And now they were tearing it down piece by piece.

Karina and Iridelle could relate to these people more than they cared to admit.

As former citizens of Aetherion who had once faced financial struggles of their own, who had tasted injustice at the hands of corrupt nobles, they understood the citizens’ anger.

They knew what it felt like to be stepped on, ignored, and treated as expendable.

And yet despite that, they kept walking.

Both of them had long since left this country behind. But memories didn’t fade just because borders had.

Iridelle watched as a group of protesters overturned a merchant’s wagon, spilling crates of spoiled grain across the streets. Fires crackled along the rooftops, smoke floating up like a signal to the heavens that the Empire’s sins had finally come due.

“Do you think any of this could have been avoided?”

“No,” Iridelle answered. “Aetherion was always going to collapse from within. This is just the part where everyone pretends they’re surprised.”

Karina looked away. “They deserve better.”

“They do,” Iridelle said. “But deserving better and getting better are never the same thing.”

And yet, despite the chaos unfolding in Aetherion’s underbelly, those who still lived with enough distance from the streets continued their lives as though the Empire wasn’t on the verge of collapse.

By December, the long-awaited Summit Festival, delayed again due to circumstances, finally began.

Perhaps this was Aetherion’s final gesture. A way for its officials to insist that they still held control over the nation.

* * *

The Silver University Tower.

“Oh god! They’re coming! They’re coming!”

Inside the student council office, papers flew everywhere, chairs scraped across the floor, and half-finished decorations for the Summit were shoved aside as panic took over.

The council had not seen its president in over two months, and without Astrid, who handled nearly every external connection, they had been overwhelmed by work and internal dissent. The Summit preparations only made it worse.

“V-Vice Pres! They’re coming!”

Ezra, the Vice President who had unwillingly become the acting leader, turned around. Heavy eyebags dragged under his already exhausted eyes, giving him the appearance of someone who hadn’t slept in weeks, which wasn’t far from the truth.

“They? Damn it, at least specify! Whose they?!”

His voice cracked at the end. He shouted at Natalia Reichenstein, the assistant secretary, and ironically, his senior, who looked just as sleep-deprived.

“Viridian Magic Tower’s Headmaster!”

“…!”

The entire room froze.

They quickly scrambled. They knew he was coming, of course, but no one had realized the visit was scheduled for today.

That was how chaotic everything had become. With Astrid missing, the student council had been forced to shoulder every responsibility she usually handled. Without her, the workload had buried the council alive.

“T-The Headmaster! Get the Headmaster!”

A lightbulb lit up as Ezra thought of a simple solution. A solution so simple he wanted to scream for not thinking of it sooner.

The Headmaster, Elsa Hesse, had stepped in to help the student council more than once during Astrid’s disappearance. And in a situation like this, welcoming a fellow University Tower’s Headmaster was practically required.

“Right,” Ezra muttered, already hurrying toward the door. “Of course. Of course. Why didn’t we think of that first?!”

Natalia ran after him. “Vice Pres, should we send someone to fetch her?”

“Yes—no—wait—just—actually, yes! Someone go! Now!”

A first-year representative sprinted away as if their life depended on it. Which, considering the Head Professor’s arrival, wasn’t far from the truth.

Ezra grabbed the edge of a table, breathing hard as he tried to restore some semblance of order to the disaster that was their office.

“The Headmaster will handle the formalities. She has to. No one will blame us if she takes over the reception.”

It didn’t take long for the first-year representative to return.

“President! T-The Headmaster…! She’s gone! No, no—she’s fled!”

“Haah?!”

“But… she left a letter.”

The representative shakily handed over an envelope. Ezra tore it open as the entire student council crowded around him in a circle, awaiting whatever royal decree was in store for them.

Inside, written in the Headmaster’s elegant handwriting, was a single line.

’Even I can’t handle him. But don’t worry, I’ve called for someone who can.’

At the end of the note was a peace sign.

And a smiley face.

“….”

“….”

That damned smiley face.

“Someone who can handle him? Just what kind of person is the Viridian Tower’s Headmaster for even Headmaster Elsa, an actual Great Power, to be so fearful of?” someone in the room asked.

Ezra’s hands trembled as he lifted the letter again, scanning the page for anything they might have missed.

And then he saw it.

“….”

A small line scribbled at the very bottom like a careless afterthought.

’He was my professor. We parted on bad terms. Still on bad terms. Tee-hee.’

“Tee… hee…?”

Natalia grabbed the paper from him, read the line, and immediately felt lightheaded.

“W-We’re finished.”

A second-year collapsed onto a chair. “If a Great Power says she’s on bad terms with him… what kind of monster did she… call to deal with the situation…?”

As if God Himself had chosen that exact moment to answer, the door swung open. A student from the disciplinary committee stepped inside.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but the Viridian Tower’s Headmaster has arrived. However, there’s a bit of a problem.”

Ezra closed his eyes. “A problem?”

“No. Actually… more like a surprise.”

“Just get on with it, Dylan,” someone said.

“Professor Vanitas is also here.”

“Huh?”

Ezra’s jaw fell slack. The room collectively froze. It had been months since Ezra had seen his former professor, benefactor, terror, and occasional savior, Vanitas Astrea. And for the rest, it had been half a year.

They all turned to the letter again.

The guest Headmaster Elsa mentioned was undoubtedly Vanitas Astrea… yet Ezra couldn’t help but question that.

Calling Professor Vanitas a “guest” felt like calling a storm “light rain.” Knowing his temperament, Ezra doubted he was here under anyone’s invitation but his own.

The entire council clearly had the same thought.

“….”

“P-Professor Vanitas?”

“Y-You’re joking… right?”

“Should I just go home for today?”

Shared trauma was a powerful unifier. Every student who had ever experienced Professor Vanitas’s strict lectures, impossible assignments, and merciless daily beratement moved at once.

They all rushed out of the room and pressed themselves against the windows, practically climbing over each other for a clearer view.

Below them, in the stone courtyard, were two men facing each other like a stand-off.

When they turned their heads, several students glanced down similarly, listening on the conversation below.

“Hm, you must be Professor Vanitas Astrea,” the visiting Headmaster said. “I’ve heard much about you. A scholar of our time, they said.”

Vanitas didn’t even blink. “Who are you?”

“….”

Ezra felt the air leave his lungs. The Viridian Tower’s Headmaster was no simple title. Yet Vanitas looked at him with the same bored indifference he gave to misplaced paperwork.

Honestly, it wasn’t surprising. And truthfully, everyone expected something exactly like this.

Still, the brutality of it made the entire student council collectively hold their breaths.

From above, they watched the Headmaster’s polite smile freeze on his face for a moment, as if recalibrating.

“I am Maximillian of the Viridian Tower,” he said. “Headmaster of our University.”

Vanitas tilted his head. “Does that mean something to me?”

Maximillian cleared his throat, trying to maintain his dignity. With the blatant disrespect Vanitas showed him, he had every right to bristle.

Achievements often inflated one’s ego, after all. The Maximillian of the past would have snapped back. But Vanitas Astrea was no mere opponent he could lecture like some intern.

There were merits under Vanitas’s name that even Maximillian grudgingly acknowledged as remarkable, especially for a scholar.

Still, hierarchy was hierarchy. And in that hierarchy, he was above Vanitas.

Vanitas was merely a professor, while Maximillian had risen to become the Headmaster of the prestigious Viridian University Tower. A successor to a legacy of brilliant magicians and academics.

“Also,” Vanitas said, “I’m not a professor anymore. So don’t refer to me with that title.”

“…Is that so?”

Maximillian’s eyes narrowed with interest. So Vanitas had fallen even lower in status? A delightful surprise. To think that good-for-nothing Elsa Hesse, now a Great Power and Headmaster, had let go of talent like Vanitas. How careless of her.

“Anyway,” Vanitas continued, “I don’t give a damn what your business is here. I came under the Headmaster’s summons. So move aside.”

He stepped forward, intending to pass him, but Maximillian didn’t budge.

Vanitas stopped. His eyes narrowed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You know,” Maximillian said, “this manner of speaking doesn’t suit someone your age. Wet behind the ears or not, you should at least recognize the prestige that comes with the title of Headmaster.”

Vanitas stared at him for a long, quiet second.

Then he clicked his tongue.

“Listen here, you old bastard. Prestige this, prestige that. In the end, you’re just a freeloading fuck hiding behind a desk and passing your work to the professors under you. As for your grand tale of how you climbed up the ranks, who gives a shit?”

The students above gasped in unison, some clamping their hands over their mouths.

“I’m a Great Power,” Vanitas continued. “And honestly, I don’t give a fuck about your titles. So move aside before Viridian has to find itself a new Headmaster.”

“Huh? A Great Power?” Maximillian scoffed. “You’re joking. How has this news never reached me? Since when was there a new Great Power? You must be lying.”

Perhaps it had to be said, but Maximillian was an old scholar who believed in tradition so rigidly that the world could shift five times and he’d still be reading research from two decades ago.

Information had to be researched, documented, archived, and cited. Rumors and shifting power balances were hardly his concern. Scholars like him were often disconnected from the present, lost in the past, or in equations they refused to abandon.

And Vanitas had only very recently become a Great Power. His rise wasn’t accompanied by political fanfare or official decrees, but had spread by word of mouth before it touched any scholars’ journals or academic databases.

For someone like Maximillian, who didn’t follow the news, didn’t trust newspapers, and dismissed anything not written in a peer-reviewed scroll, the idea that Vanitas had ascended was practically impossible to comprehend.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t lie to me. Becoming a Great Power is no trivial matter. I would have known—”

“Just fuck off.”

“….”

Maximillian froze, as if unable to process the sheer insolence. Then, without another word, mana surged into his palms.

Even without a medium, the air around him warped. He was still a respected mage who had earned his position through skill and research. This should have been more than enough to put an arrogant youngster back in his place.

Crash——

But before he could understand what happened next, it was already over.

Maximillian’s face slammed against the stone floor as Vanitas walked past without even turning his head. One instant, Maximillian had been preparing to reprimand him, and in the next, he was left sprawled on the ground.

That day, the Viridian University’s Headmaster’s visit was pushed to another date.