A Returner's Magic Should Be Special

Chapter 113. The Hypocrite (3)

The panic from the party competition had died down at the academy.

If it was like any other year, there would be rowdy arguments by party members boasting about how much better their party was, and others going around challenging people and holding rematches. However, none of that was present this year. It seemed like this dark atmosphere would go on for a while longer.

At last, the seasons turned and the student body had to face up against winter.

The Runic lectures were soon taken over by another professor that was called in from another academy. In the beginning, the students couldn’t help mourning for Benquick during the lectures, but the scars had somewhat healed by now.

Desir’s party committed themselves to a proper school life amidst the calm. Like always, Desir’s training didn’t stop.

As a result, Pram had become skilled at wielding the Aura Blade. A mere two months ago, his Aura could barely be called swordsmanship, but he had reached the point where no one could criticize his Aura Blade.

Desir concluded that being pushed so close to his limit while he was surrounded by the Mother Worm and numerous Great Worms had been the fuel for this improvement.

The only thing left for Desir to do was simple.

Pram had always wielded a sword that exceeded his skill level. A Blank?um blade could penetrate through the defence of most foes, and Pram had begun to lean heavily on the blade’s abilities.

He had yet to battle someone who used Aura, but the time had finally come for him to seriously battle against a formidable enemy that used the Aura. Enemies like those were hard to confront without having Aura too.

To force Pram out of his habit of relying on his sword, Desir temporarily sealed it away and made him learn how to use Aura with a normal saber.

Desir planned on teaching him how to change the form of his Aura once he got used to summoning one.

As for swordsmanship, a professor who’d been keeping an eye on Pram was carefully teaching him, so there was nothing else to worry about.

The accuracy of Romantica’s shots was increasing by the day.

It hadn’t been long since she had advanced to the Third-Circle, yet she already managed perfect control over it. To further her success, she had managed to memorize most of the wind spells that could be invoked at the Third-Circle.

Although Desir had been the one teaching her the different types of spells (to the point where he was absolutely sick of them), it was Romantica herself who honed those skills and made them hers.

After the destruction of Prichella, Romantica worked tirelessly to polish her abilities. As someone who was originally gifted, her added diligence sped up her growth greatly. Conversely, Adjest still faced a wall.

She was still struggling to conjure based on an image.

Feeling like she had plateaued while everyone around her was making substantial progress and achieving goals, Adjest felt a surge of anxiety.

Desperate to see results, she asked Desir to start training with her more often, because he was the only person skilled enough to stand a chance against her.

Desir was more than willing to spend time with Adjest to support her in reaching a new level, so he accepted her request without hesitation.

The time the two spent stuck together naturally grew. Apart from meal and rest times, the two were almost always seen together.

Adjest made sure to listen carefully to Desir’s advice, since she didn’t want to miss even the smallest of detail.

‘An association somewhat like this should be fine.’

As a result, she was able to come across a meaningful hint about the magic image she wanted to invoke.

Freechel wasn’t a particularly talented individual, but she was a hard worker who was serious about everything. If she focused on getting the basics correct, she had the potential to reach the Second-Circle within a few months. If she was lucky, achieving Third-Circle within 10 years would be possible.

Takiran’s achievements were also going pretty well. He had never gotten the chance to improve because there had never been a teacher to teach him proper swordsmanship.

The fact that he had been unable to do anything at the Party Competition seemed to have been a great shock to him.

As a result, the experience made him eager to become stronger, and after immersing himself in daily training, he was able to enter the Pawn Class.

Takiran’s little brother eventually left the party. Not everyone had the willpower to bear Desir’s demanding training regimine.

He had initially joined not because he had a goal that he wanted to achieve, but because he wanted to stick with his brother. As a result, he didn’t have the will to endure the pain in order to achieve something.

Desir didn’t relegate himself to the role of tutor. After all, he needed to get stronger as well to face the oncoming storm. Whenever he had a moment of respite, Desir analyzed his new magic system from various perspectives.

If he wanted to invoke magic multiple times in a fight, he still had a lot of fine-tuning to do. He frequently cooped himself up in the library, and could be found up to his nose in stacks of books. Whenever he felt himself approach a wall, he made a point to converse with and bounce ideas off of Zod. Soon after, he’d be back on track.Through their combined hard work, Desir’s party improved smoothly and quickly.

***

“Good morning Desir.”

Kelt always greeted Desir when they crossed paths. The Kelt that had turned his face away to avoid eye-contact during the Party Competition was long gone.

He wasn’t the only one who greeted Desir. The Alpha Class students who’d worked with him to clear the third stage of the dungeon also said hello whenever they met Desir’s party.

The impression of commoners had changed drastically.

The Alpha Class students who had participated in the party competition were all top rankers in their respective parties. As these students changed the way they interacted with commoners, the others naturally followed suit.

Of course, there were still many nobles that detested commoners, but they didn’t openly treat them with as much contempt as before for fear of drawing attention to themselves.

The most surprising change came from Prof. Pugman.

He had always harassed Desir, trying to take him down. But after that day, he hadn’t acted in that manner even once.

It was to be expected, as Desir was the very person who’d saved Pugman’s precious little brother. He was at least someone aware of his duty and standing.

It was only the attitude towards commoners that had changed, but even so, Romantica regarded it as a tremendous stride forward.

Although insignificantly, the school environment for the Beta Class had improved. Although it wasn’t quite how Desir had planned, he had managed to show everyone at the event that commoners were capable too. By disproving the claims made by noble professors that commoners were incompetent head-on, the support for commoners had increased slightly.

The professors that continued to oppose improvements to the Beta Class eventually left the academy and new professors soon took their places.

***

Once the lecture on sparring ended, Hersaint-Blanc called Desir into his office.

His office was decorated with various swords. If anyone entered it unknowingly, they would probably mistake it for a knight’s office.

Hersaint-Blanc offered Desir a seat, but quite a lot of dust had collected on the seat. It was evident that the place hadn’t been cleaned for the past couple of days.

“It’s a bit dirty but do excuse me for that.” “That’s all right.”

Hersaint-Blanc cleared his throat before starting to speak.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I apologize for testing you thus far, Desir.” It was an unexpected remark, but Desir maintained his poker face. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

“I had a hunch.”

Desir just barely managed to recall his past memories of the man in front of him when he had mentioned he had once served as the captain of the empire’s Golden Hawks. Hersaint-Blanc Tistachia.

Active in the Shadow Labyrinth under the alias known as the Knight of Dawn. He was famous for contributing to the training of numerous talents even in the hell holes known as Shadow Worlds. There was no way he was an Outsider.

Desir had been unable to identify him immediately, despite his fame, since he was more widely known for his alias, not his real name.

Hersaint-Blanc scratched the scar on his cheek as he spoke.

“Haha, did you notice? In any case, sorry for that. We needed to determine what kind of individual you were.”

We.

Just as the word suggested, it meant that he had a group supporting him. “So have you made any progress?”

“Absolutely. We’ve at least found out that you have hostile relations with the Outsiders. And that’s enough because that means one of our biggest worries is gone.”

“However, I advise you to continue being careful of your actions. Always keep in mind that there are people out there paying attention to you.”

Desir answered firmly to his words.

“I’m grateful for your advice, but I’m only doing what I need to. That won’t change no matter what others say.”

“…Well. That will change once you find out who’s been keeping their eye on you.”

“I have no intention of finding out. No matter who’s watching, nothing will change. I hate having to walk on eggshells around others.”

What Desir had to do could not waver, no matter the reason. “Alright, I’m expecting a lot from you. Feel free to leave now.” “Thank you for your time, professor.”

*Creeeak*

Hersaint-Blanc looked at the empty chair where Desir was sitting before bursting into laughter.

Thinking he was a boy that truly embodied the trait of boldness, Hersaint-Black took his pen, and wrote a letter.

The opening of the letter started like this.

-Your Majesty, the great Sun of Hebrion, I report to you.