Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

Chapter 259: Iron Lotus [5]

Eisenreich.

The largest ship the Zyphran Dominion had to offer. A vessel that had endured generations of warfare, bearing the scars of countless battles without ever breaking.

Forged in an age when the continent still remained as one Empire, Eisenreich had weathered storms, sieges, and monsters that no longer even existed in records.

The ship’s grandeur was so immaculate that even Vanitas found himself momentarily taken aback. According to community forums, the Eisenreich had only ever been deployed in the timeline where the Black Dragon surfaced.

If that threat was slain, the ending was guaranteed to be a good one.

“….”

Vanitas swallowed deeply.

Despite everything that had gone wrong, despite how far events had already diverged, this was… a good sign.

So much so that, for once, Vanitas found himself without words.

“You’re staring too much,” Vice Admiral Neuschwan said. “But I can’t blame you. She’s a beauty.”

“It would be a shame if it sank.”

“….”

Roman Neuschwan chose to ignore the remark. At this point, there was little value in provoking one another. Vanitas was a necessary piece of the expedition, no matter how much Roman despised admitting it.

With the fighting still raging along the frontlines, the massive vessel was forced to take a wide detour far from the conflict to avoid the risk of being sunk. As a result, the journey would take far longer than originally planned.

When Vanitas stepped aboard, he cast a brief glance around. Unlike the battleships Zyphran was known for, Eisenreich’s interior was unexpectedly refined. The only comparison he could draw was to the luxury cruise ships from his previous world.

“This is—”

“The Eisenreich is only deployed for continental-level threats,” Roman cut in. “If that’s the case, then why not let the men who board her experience this kind of luxury?”

Vanitas did not look at him as he continued to observe the interior.

A continental threat meant that survival was at its utmost critical. Lives were measured in probabilities, not promises.

In that sense, if death were likely, then one might as well taste comfort before meeting it.

Passengers continued to board. Since the expedition had been designated as an extermination, Iridelle Vermillion stepped aboard as well, leaving Admiral Julius Schneider behind to command the ongoing naval front.

As Vanitas turned, a lock of platinum white hair entered his peripheral vision.

“….”

Of course she would be here.

“Karina.”

But instead of the usual frown she would have given him, she didn’t even spare him a glance and walked past him indifferently.

“….”

The one who did offer him a frown, however, was Iridelle.

“Seems like women hate you,” Roman remarked, before turning away.

He joined the navymen already boarding the ship, shouting orders as he moved down the line, directing formations and issuing preparations for departure.

A moment later, someone placed a hand on Vanitas’s shoulder. It belonged to a navyman wearing a low pulled cap as he removed his hand and slipped into the line.

But the smirk on his face and those unmistakable crimson eyes told Vanitas everything he needed to know.

It was Franz.

’….So he managed to sneak into the navy.’

Franz’s stigmata was truly terrifying. So subtle that Vanitas found himself wondering how many times he had already crossed paths with him in ordinary moments, never realizing it until now.

“Are you worried about your fiancée?”

Just as Vanitas was about to step forward, he stopped again when a voice reached him from behind. He turned, only to find yet another Franz standing there.

“Don’t worry,” Franz continued. “I have puppets around her at all times. She’s being watched every second.”

“….Thanks.”

“I’m not so heartless now, am I?”

“Truly a benevolent Emperor.”

* * *

As the vessel departed through the tide of Cthulhus that meant nothing under Eisenreich’s immense barrier, Karina leaned against the deck’s railing and stared out at the bleak sea.

Noticing the displeasure on her face, none of the navymen dared approach her. None except Roman, who stepped beside her and rested his arms on the railing.

“Do not waver, Karina,” he said.

“I’m not,” she replied. “I’ll see this through to the end. But that doesn’t answer any of my doubts.”

“What’s troubling you?”

“Uncle,” Karina began, “was my father truly… a good person?”

“Roman?” Roman exhaled. “I’ve told you everything I remember from our childhood. From the day we were born to the day he abandoned the family. If you ask me whether he was a good man, then no. He was a good for nothing, weak willed child.”

Karina remained silent for a moment.

“These days,” she said, “it feels like a thaw is slowly setting in. Like a block of ice I used to freeze something painful away is melting, drip by drip, into cold water.”

The sea stretched endlessly before them, offering her no answers.

“The more I freeze,” Karina continued, “the more the ice at the back of my mind melts. And the more it melts, the more I see how frozen the world truly is. Ironically so.”

She tightened her grip on the railing.

Roman remained silent, listening to each of her words.

“Within the ice’s mist, it tells me my father isn’t kind,” Karina went on. “He isn’t warm, either. He screamed. He blamed me for things I didn’t understand. He looked at me like I was something inconvenient, something that ruined his life.”

Her voice shook, but she forced herself to continue.

“I remember hiding. I remember thinking that if I stayed quiet enough, if I was useful enough, he would stop.” She shook her head. “But he never did.”

The wind swept across the deck.

“I told myself he loved me,” Karina said. “I needed to believe that. Because believing he was cruel meant accepting that no one came to save me.”

She looked out at the sea again.

“Now that ice is breaking. And I don’t know what hurts more. The memories themselves… or realizing how long I lied to myself to survive…”

For a moment, anger surged on Romolus’s face. Then he forced himself to breathe, loosening his hold on the railings.

“Is this why you’ve been reconsidering?” he asked.

“…A bit.”

Roman stared out at the horizon.

“Even if that bastard Roman was a bastard to the very end,” he said, “it doesn’t change anything.”

He turned toward her.

“Vanitas Astrea must be killed here. For the sake of the continent.”

His words felt as if they were a conclusion he had already reached.

Karina did not answer right away.

The wind swept across the deck, carrying the scent of salt and seawater. Eisenreich pressed onward through the waves as if the sea itself had buckled under its grandeur.

“I know, but…”

“Just because he was your mentor doesn’t mean you have to sympathize with him,” Roman replied. “Especially not for who he is now. Don’t forget what he’s done. Not to you, but to all of his victims.”

“….”

Karina’s heart wavered all the same. Time had a way of forcing reflection, of peeling away illusions one layer at a time. And in hindsight, as she gathered several pieces of the puzzle that constituted the truth, a realization began to take shape.

Vanitas Astrea had simply been trying to survive.

He might have killed Roman Neuschwan, the man she once called her father, but Roman had never been a good person to begin with.

That truth no longer hurts as much as it once did.

Sometimes, it took a greater evil to destroy a lesser one.

And most of the time, regret came far too late.

Perhaps things could have been different. Perhaps if she had been more mature back then, the events that would have led to this moment would’ve had a different outcome.

Perhaps if she had stayed by his side, the tragedies that followed would never have happened.

Perhaps if she had believed in him, instead of blindly trusting her own conclusions, she could have been his pillar of support.

Karina knew that Vanitas had been fond of her in those days. It had shown in the subtleties of his actions, in the way he treated her, in the tone he used when he spoke to her.

She was certain that, under different circumstances, something meaningful might have bloomed between them.

But that possibility had long since passed.

Vanitas had crossed the point of no return.

And now, he was this continent’s villain.

It was remarkable enough that, despite everything he had done, people still hesitated to kill him.

The benefits of his existence outweighed all logical decisions. For every life he took with his own hands, twice as many were saved.

Whether that balance was intentional or merely a byproduct of his actions no longer mattered. The mind he possessed was a treasure trove many would argue belonged to the continent itself.

In other words, he was an irreplaceable genius.

So much so that scholars now debated his fate openly. Some even protested, insisting that Vanitas Astrea must be kept alive. They argued that lives were never truly equal, no matter how ethically one wished to believe otherwise.

That the lives he took meant little when weighed against what he represented.

And yet, this moment was unlike any that had come before.

Vanitas Astrea was isolated. Aboard a single vessel, surrounded only by the Zyphran Dominion’s Bundesritter. There were no reinforcements or escape routes.

Out here, it was nothing but open sea and steel.

An opportunity that would never present itself again.

To kill Vanitas Astrea once and for all.

* * *

“They’re plotting to kill you.”

“Makes sense. How do you know?”

“I overheard them. They’re quite open about it, actually.”

Inside the vessel’s dining chamber, ornate containers filled with food lined the long table.

Vanitas calmly sipped his wine, unfazed at what he just heard. Franz passed by in the guise of a Bundesritter navyman, lowering his voice just enough to deliver what he had heard before continuing on, careful not to draw suspicion.

“Watch your back, Vanitas,” Franz said, before deliberately stumbling forward like a clumsy navyman. He scratched his head in embarrassment as he rose, playing the part a little too well.

“Damn,” Vanitas muttered. “I really would have never known…”

It was scary. Genuinely so. That perhaps even the seamstress responsible for tailoring his coats in that boutique might have been Franz as well.

And what was even worse was that it was highly possible.

“Ah… chills…”

Vanitas set the glass aside and made his way toward the ship’s library. To his mild surprise, it was fully furnished, stocked with every amenity one could reasonably expect.

There was something oddly familiar about this ship.

As if somewhere down the line, these walls would meet an iceberg at night, and everything would sink.

He shook the thought away.

As Vanitas reached out for a book, it was pulled free from the opposite side of the shelf. He paused and leaned forward, peering through the narrow gap between volumes.

“Uh?”

Two eyes blinked back at him.

“Vanitas Astrea…”

It was Iridelle. She lowered the book and followed it with a frown.

“You’d be a lot more desirable if you stopped frowning like that.”

“Wait until your fiancée hears that.”

“Unfortunately for you, she isn’t that insecure.”

“Grown woman talking like a brat.”

“….”

She stopped.

Then she spun around.

“Say that again.”

Vanitas met her glare without blinking. “You heard me.”

Iridelle took a step closer. “You always did have a knack for getting on people’s bad side.”

“And you always mistook honesty for provocation.”

Her fingers curled around the spine of the book. For a brief moment, it looked like she might throw it at him.

“Careful,” she said. “You’re on thin ice.”

Vanitas glanced around the library, then back at her. “On this ship? Everything is on thin ice.”

“You—”

At that moment, the ship rumbled.