Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

Chapter 239: Summit [2]

The Summit Festival, held every two years, was a grand academic event where all six university towers gathered at the host institution.

Representatives from each alma mater competed in a wide array of fields, with every event designed to test the breadth of each tower’s skill and determine the final ranking of the participating institutions.

For the past decade, the Silver University Tower had consistently secured the first-place position. Its consecutive victories cemented its reputation as the most prestigious institution across all Empires.

In simpler terms, this festival was one of the defining reasons why the Silver University Tower remained at the peak of all institutions on the continent.

“Hey, is this alright? Should we even be here? People say Aetherion’s a mess at the moment….”

Even the tourists who had traveled from other nations couldn’t help but voice their concerns.

Aetherion had always been known as a nation plagued by troublesome nobility. This was the inevitable consequence of a nation clinging stubbornly to sovereignty while the rest of the world moved forward.

Other Empires had already adapted to new systems of governance. Some embraced technocratic councils, others shifted toward democratic or hybrid models. Yet Aetherion had refused to change.

Its culture, laws, and ruling structures remained the same as they had been since its founding. Much like the Theocracy, another state that stuck desperately to its old doctrines. Aetherion had been declining in stability and influence for years.

The cracks had always been there. Now the world could finally see them.

The foreign students gathered for the festival looked around with worried eyes. Even if the Summit Festival still proceeded as planned, they were aware of the problematic situation.

“Who cares? Academia knows no limitations. Those nobles can run their Empire into the ground if they want, but they cannot touch the sacred sanctions of academia. We are the ones responsible for the future.”

“Yeah, yeah. And we are the ones meant to clean up their mess. Damn it, this sucks.”

Academia had always existed outside the reach of kings. Governments collapsed, empires rose and fell, but the pursuit of knowledge continued without asking permission from the world.

Scholars believed that learning was the last true frontier of civilization. To them, the instability beyond the university walls was merely another reminder of why their work mattered.

Aetherion could crumble tomorrow, and the summit would still be held today. That was simply how academia functioned. The flow of knowledge did not bend to the rise and fall of empires.

In the eyes of scholars, knowledge was the only thing capable of outlasting the ruin of any nation.

“Look on the bright side. The research labs are still open. Do you know how rare it is to get field access in the Silver Tower? Half the continent prays for this chance.”

Opinions varied among the visitors, but it was safe to say that most of them, especially those coming to Aetherion for the first time, were having a pleasant trip as long as they stayed within the capital.

The atmosphere inside the city remained far more controlled than initially thought. However, anything outside the capital had already been marked as a red zone.

Travelers were constantly warned that it was unsafe to venture beyond the borders for the time being, and anyone reckless enough to try would be turned back by military patrols or local authorities.

Yet for many, this restriction hardly mattered. Aetherion’s capital was massive and far larger than most capitals on the continent. Its scale dwarfed even two combined cities in the Celestine Hegemony.

One could walk through its streets for days and still find oneself lost. For scholars and competitors arriving for the Summit Festival, the capital alone was enough to marvel at, with its blend of old-world sovereignty and modern research infrastructure.

As long as they kept their feet within its boundaries, Aetherion still felt like the shining Empire it claimed to be.

“But you know, I’ve been wondering this whole time… Where’s the Princess? I heard she was running the University Tower.”

“You’re right. I’ve been wanting to see Princess Astrid in person. They say one look at her and every other woman you meet afterward suddenly looks ugly.”

Astrid Barielle Aetherion was, to most foreign scholars and visiting delegates, more of a myth than a reality. A cunning mind in politics, a leader with impeccable management skills, and a beauty so renowned that even the most cynical student spoke of her with awe.

She was, quite literally, the very textbook definition of a perfect princess.

Naturally, the expectations surrounding her appearance at the Summit Festival were immense.

“Yes, yes. Everyone, I know you all have your questions. So I’ll clarify this only once. President Astrid is currently absent. I, Ezra Kaelus, Vice-President, am filling in for her until she returns. If you have any concerns… please direct them to Natalia.”

“Wha—”

Natalia’s head snapped toward him, disbelief plastered across her face. She wasn’t even the secretary, but the secretary’s assistant.

Yet Ezra, in his exhaustion and stress, had thrown her straight into the fire as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The two had grown close enough that Ezra treated her like a punching bag.

“I believe in you,” Ezra said without even looking at her, already turning to greet a group of professors approaching from the west wing.

The procession of professors, each representing their own university towers, walked in, accompanied by faculty from the Silver University Tower. The moment they spotted Ezra, they came to a collective stop.

Ezra forced a smile. “Welcome, esteemed professors. On behalf of the Silver University Tower, it is an honor to receive you.”

“Vice-President Kaelus. We were informed President Astrid would be here to greet us personally.”

Ezra felt a bead of sweat slide down his spine. “The President… has been delayed by urgent affairs at the moment…”

“Urgent affairs during the Summit Festival? Aetherion’s governance must be in a rather troubling state.”

“Yes. I understand your concerns. However, the Summit’s operations remain unaffected. All departments have been prepared in advance, and we have ensured every accommodation meets the expected standards of the Towers.”

The professors exchanged glances.

“Very well. Lead the way.”

They resumed walking until one of the visiting professors suddenly spoke up.

“By the way,” he said, adjusting his glasses, “I have been wanting to meet a certain scholar. Professor Vanitas Astrea. Is he around?”

Another professor nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I’ve read his published papers on mana scaling and temporal distortions. Exceptional work. I was hoping to speak with him.”

Ezra’s expression tightened. This again.

Before he could answer, one of the Silver Tower professors stepped in. “Ah, unfortunately, Professor Astrea has departed from the university. He is currently serving as the Emperor’s right hand.”

“I see… So the rumors were true. I did hear he was no longer teaching.”

“Such a pity,” another sighed. “His insights would have been invaluable during this Summit.”

“It is rare for academia to lose someone of his caliber to politics. A waste of talent.”

“Did he truly become the Emperor’s right hand?”

“An academic becoming a political pillar… fascinating.”

“No wonder the Silver Tower has been so tense lately.”

Ezra forced a polite smile. “Professor Astrea left behind a comprehensive archive of research. Should you have any inquiries, our staff will gladly assist you. And more importantly, you should all look forward to the circuit. Professor Astrea has generously agreed to participate and will be presenting his latest study.”

A hush fell over the group.

“He’s participating? Personally?” one professor asked, astonished.

“Wow, this is quite exciting.”

They all paused to imagine the implications. Anything Vanitas Astrea presented would undoubtedly overturn existing frameworks and spark new academic wars.

Ezra cleared his throat. “Yes. The presentation will be held on the third day of the Summit. Details will be distributed once the schedule is finalized.”

The professors exchanged looks of excitement and dread. It was the face of someone who had spent years of research being invalidated overnight.

“I must review my thesis again. If he comments on it, I’ll never recover.”

Another gripped his colleague’s shoulder. “You? My entire department might collapse if he updates his mana-flow equations.”

On the first day of the Summit Festival, the atmosphere was relatively calm.

The schedule consisted mostly of regulations, orientation programs, and introductory sessions, especially tailored for first-year and second-year students from each university tower who were experiencing the event for the first time.

The Silver Tower campus, usually filled only with its own students, now hosted a group of different uniforms, colors, and crests. The newcomers moved under the guidance of upper-year escorts and professors from their respective institutions.

The opening ceremony was held in the Grand Colosseum, an arena large enough to fit tens of thousands of spectators. Banners from all six university towers hung from the domed ceiling.

——Welcome to the 212th Summit Festival. May your knowledge shine brighter than any spell or blade!

Applause echoed throughout the Colosseum as the first event began. The Academic Oath Ceremony, where every representative pledged to uphold the integrity of research, to compete with honor, and to contribute to the advancement of their respective magical fields.

Afterward, the audience dispersed across the campus. The day continued with a series of welcoming events.

There was the Cross-Tower Exchange Fair, where each tower showcased its specialized disciplines. First-years eagerly crowded around the Silver Tower booth, fascinated by the unique spellformulas and magic circles developed by its students.

The Viridian Tower displayed its botanical constructs, while the Cerulean Tower demonstrated its water-based spell engineering through floating spheres of suspended droplets.

Nearby, the Battle Arena Orientation gathered a large crowd of Crusade Department students. Instructors explained the regulations for combat events. The crowd buzzed with excitement as a demonstration duel took place on stage.

In another wing of the campus, the Artistic Showcase Hall opened its doors for rehearsals. Music majors tuned their instruments, painting students conjured brush illusions across giant canvases, and illusionists prepared their visual performances.

Everything seemed under control, until the first commotion broke out.

“Someone stop him! He’s not supposed to channel that much mana inside the rehearsal room!”

Ezra, who had been half-running from one wing to another ever since the festival began, froze. Adam Oleander, the actual secretary, halted beside him.

“Vice-President! That was the second crash today!”

Ezra groaned. “Who is it this time?”

“Second-year Battle Arts student. He and a performance student got into an argument about stage reservations!”

“Of course they did.”

* * *

“Do we have any proof of the validity of your claims, Astrea? What you just said… it can’t be taken lightly.”

Hughes Bolton, the Great Power known across the continent as the Divine Archer, spoke across the broken stone pillars and broken arches.

They were in an abandoned ruin where Vanitas had first summoned them. Some sat on rubble, others stood with arms crossed, but everyone of them understood the purpose of the meeting.

It was, without exaggeration, a council of living weapons.

“Proof…” Vanitas murmured, considering the request. “This is all the proof you’ll need.”

From the darkness behind him, a figure stepped forward, draped in her signature ethereal white robes. Her black hair fluttered, her emerald eyes shone with a gentle gleam that needed no introduction.

“S-Saintess?”

Archmage Soliette Dominique reacted first. The Saintess stood next to Vanitas, offering him a glance of acknowledgment before facing the Great Powers.

“Yes,” Selena said, nodding. “It’s true. Everything Marquess Astrea has told you came directly from me. And as much as it pains me to admit it… the Pope has been possessed by a malicious entity.”

“….”

Hughes Bolton, the very man who always contested Vanitas most fiercely, found no words this time.

Soliette pressed a hand to her forehead. “Then… this is a matter of international scale.”

It was. The implication alone was enough to shake nations. The possession of the Pope, one of the highest authorities on the continent, was not a crisis that could be handled by any single empire, council, or faction.

“I understand now, Astrea,” Friedrich Glade said as he stepped forward. “This is why you called for me. Whatever you need, I’m ready.”

“Eh? Since when did you two get all buddy-buddy?” Hughes Bolton muttered with a scowl. “Last I checked, you were trying to rip each other’s throats out.”

“You really need to shut up, Bolton,” Iridelle Vermillion cut in. “You’re quite literally the only nuisance here.”

Bolton clicked his tongue, but Iridelle didn’t bother looking at him. She stepped toward the Saintess instead.

“I was informed of this matter separately from a colleague,” she continued. “At first, I wasn’t planning to interfere. Political conflicts between nations aren’t usually worth my attention. But if the Saintess is involved… then this is beyond politics. This is something only people of our caliber can deal with.”

Soliette added, “If the Pope has truly been compromised, then the Theocracy is no longer acting under its own will. Its influence extends across every Empire on the continent. If we allow this entity to move freely behind that authority….”

She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. The implications were severe enough on their own.

Another voice chimed in.

“It won’t stop at the Theocracy,” said Elsa Hesse, the Calamity Witch. “If the Pope falls, the faith that binds half the continent collapses. Do you people have any idea how many churches there are on the continent?”

Selena lowered her gaze. “That is precisely why I sought help. As Archmage Soliette has said, the entire clergy’s been compromised. I fear it’s only a matter of time before their reach extends beyond the Theocracy.”

Vanitas took a step forward, his eyes sweeping over the gathered Great Powers.

“This is why I called all of you,” he said. “Because if we do not act now, the next place the corruption spreads to will be Aetherion… and then the rest of the continent.”

Hughes Bolton sucked in a breath, then said, “Aetherion? What makes you so sure? It could be anywhere. Zyphran, for that matter.”

Iridelle shot him a sharp glare but didn’t fire back. Bolton wasn’t wrong.

Even she had noticed the widening cracks within Zyphran’s political lines. But without evidence, she had no grounds to intervene. Her position as a Great Power did not give her the right to meddle in Dominion politics without cause.

Still, it didn’t change that Bolton’s question demanded a real answer.

Vanitas didn’t look offended. If anything, he looked prepared for it.

“Because they’re already here.”

“Huh?”

“Empress Olivia’s death. They’re the cause for it.”

The entire room froze.