Chapter 91: A true genius professor, an educator Part 3

Fired.

Certainly, that was the word I had longed to hear.

All the effort and struggles until now were for this moment, to hear those words.

But… not like this.

Not in this way.

Even though the desperate wish I had yearned for so much was finally granted, I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

A dizzy mind and tangled emotions.

I had no way to check my own expression, but judging from the look on the progenitor dragon’s face, it was clear that I must have been in complete disarray.

The only thing that slipped out of my mouth was something strange.

“Are you telling me to run away? But… isn’t every bit of strength crucial in this situation?”

These were not the words I should be saying.

It should have been the bizarre phrases about life and death that others said to push me toward the Demon King.

Yet here I was, saying such things myself.

A reputation made of bubbles.

I feared being driven into a corner by those who knew nothing of the truth.

And now, it felt as though I was the one driving myself into that corner.

A bizarre and utterly strange situation.

‘Could this strangeness have spread?’

“I wasn’t the only one speaking differently than usual.”

“I know you have no strength left to fight.”

“As if our roles had reversed, the words I had always spoken were now being said by someone else.”

“I’ve known for a long time. Didn’t you cough up blood on your return from the Holy Empire? Out of concern, I investigated and ended up hearing the details from your swordsmanship students.”

“The process was muddled with misunderstandings, but these children of the swordsmanship class knew of my weakness.”

Sion, who said she had spoken to them, smiled faintly.

“Everyone knew. If they didn’t, would they have been so frantic to find you when you were kidnapped by nothing more than a petty criminal organization?”

“If they thought I was truly a warrior on the edge of life and death, an unrivaled genius mage, they would have believed I could escape on my own.”

“People knew my body was wrecked from aftereffects and thus sought to keep me out of the war.”

“So, I should run away.”

Yet… my feet wouldn’t move.

Even though I had rationally accepted the situation, my feet refused to leave the ground.

And Sion, watching me, gave a knowing smile as if she had expected this.

She murmured softly,

“Riyan, flee at once.”

It wasn’t a mere command.

It was a word of power that disrupted reason.

With no strength left in me to resist such magic, my feet began to move.

I opened my mouth, trying to say something, but it was useless.

I didn’t even know what to say or if anything I said would change a single thing.

I stared blankly at the academy fading into the distance.

***

A world already destroyed.

The first cycle’s Riyan looked at the second cycle’s version of himself.

A face completely broken, consumed by despair.

It was the first time the second cycle’s Riyan had worn such an expression.

But it didn’t shock or surprise me.

That face was familiar.

It was the face I always wore.

After all… I was never lucky.

A lottery win, second prize, again and again?

Always winning at rock-paper-scissors without fail?

Could anyone possibly be that lucky?

If I had been truly lucky, how could I explain being born an orphan in both this life and the last?

Or entering a hellish workplace in my previous life, tormented by my boss?

Or dying young from an illness brought on by stress?

Even in this life, starting off as a beggar in the slums, being beaten and enduring a miserable childhood—how could I call myself fortunate?

I was cursed with misfortune.

I later discovered that even the world proclaimed my bad luck.

Half-formed Heaven-Countering Magic.

Using it, I glimpsed my destiny, and it was nothing short of disastrous.

‘No matter how hard you try, you’ll never achieve your goals. No matter what you do, you’ll fail. And you’ll die young.’

From birth, I was fated to live and die in misery.

The world itself had declared it to me.

It was a situation beyond cruel.

Even Heaven-Countering Magic was impossible.

I could read or slightly interfere, but rewriting my fate was beyond reach.

It was confirmed—changing destiny was impossible.

But despite all of that…

“Riyan never gave up.”

He refused to surrender and sought a way.

And he found it.

The moment he found the answer, he began to interfere with the second cycle.

Not to do something grandiose.

Just to tweak memories and perceptions a little.

From the beginning, he altered himself to believe he had always been fortunate, suppressing his negative tendencies.

He made himself aware of his past life’s memories earlier than originally intended.

Gradually, he guided himself to set being fired as his ultimate goal.

Then, by slightly modifying this perception, he ensured that considering options other than being fired became nearly impossible.

‘If a straightforward method doesn’t work, I’ll resort to tricks.’

After all, he was a mage.

As he once told his disciple, mages are a breed that thrives on deceiving the world.

If failure awaited him at every turn, he would exploit it.

By truly making himself wish for ruin, he would paradoxically achieve success.

“We have never once sought to overturn fate.”

Those were the words he once told the second cycle.

Indeed, they had never tried to defy fate.

True to the nature of mages, they had simply orchestrated a grand deception against the world.

‘Of course, even that has reached its limit now.’

He had saved those who should have died, redeemed those who were destined to fall, and united those who were supposed to fight against one another.

The grand deception had achieved far greater results than expected.

The insane plan he devised to get fired failed at every step, yielding only the best outcomes against fate.

But now, it was impossible to continue.

The only fate left for him was no longer failure—it was death.

From the moment he confronted Gettya, his death was certain.

It was no longer possible to exploit fate…

‘But that’s no problem at all.’

The first cycle’s Riyan showed no signs of wavering.

He had been waiting for this moment all along.

Gripping his staff tightly, he began casting his final and greatest spell.

A vast array of runes etched themselves across the sky.

***

[Unique Spell No. 100: Future Denial]

‘If fate cannot be rewritten, it will be erased.’

‘I will banish all fates and inevitabilities from this world.’

‘Predetermined outcomes hold no meaning.’

‘I will reclaim a future I can write with my own hands.’

…Slowly, his body began to disintegrate.

The cost of the spell was his own existence.

His body crumbled into dust, returning to the earth.

Yet there was no regret on his face.

He had excluded the predetermined defeat and opened the door to possibility.

Whether that possibility would be grasped depended on the hands of the second cycle’s version of himself.

But he had no doubt whatsoever.

After all…

‘If I can’t trust myself, who else could I trust?’

I stared blankly at the burning academy.

This was the culmination of my choices.

I kept saying I wanted to be fired, to run away, but when it truly mattered, I couldn’t bring myself to flee.

Instead, I delayed every decision, merely paying lip service to the idea of being fired.

This was the end result.

Even from this distance, I could feel Gettya’s presence.

The battle was raging, but the outcome was already decided.

There was no way to triumph against something like that.

The academy would soon be reduced to ruins, and the empire would fall.

The progenitor dragon’s magic was depleted, and even its Words of Power had lost effect.

And yet, even if my feet were no longer compelled to move by force, I knew I still had to flee.

Every logical view dictated that running was the wisest choice.

‘What could I possibly achieve by staying?’

‘After all, I was no genius professor.’

‘That was nothing more than a myth built by coincidence.’

‘Therefore, I should abandon everyone and run.’

‘Seek asylum in another nation, get as far away as possible, and formulate some plan to at least save my own life.’

‘The conclusion was obvious.’

‘So I ran.’

I ran quickly, but… the direction was strange.

My body didn’t listen to me.

Before I could think, my legs were moving.

I was running toward the Imperial Academy.

Running straight into certain death.

I knew how foolish it was, yet I couldn’t stop.

And if I could, wouldn’t that be even stranger?

I knew them—my students, who sometimes overwhelmed me but always stood by me.

The professors who constantly took my side.

And Sion, who had chosen to sacrifice herself for my sake.

At some point, I had begun to think of my quarters as home.

At some point, this place had become where I belonged.

The conclusion had already been decided.

‘I am a professor of the Imperial Academy.’

So, even as my breath grew short, my legs didn’t stop.

Even if I wasn’t truly a genius professor, even if it was all just a misconception born of chance…

In this moment.

In this one moment, I had to be a genius professor.

So, no matter what…

It seemed I was destined to never quit being a professor.