Reporters surrounded me, chattering away with bizarre questions.
I felt dizzy as the threat of dismissal kept slipping further from reach, despite all the havoc I’d caused.
But there was still one last resort to normalize this whole situation.
‘So, to sum it up, they’re not just slacking off—they actually went off adventuring, right? And they accomplished something huge along the way, raising my stock in the process.’
An adventuring party that conquered an impregnable labyrinth.
Creating a Sword Master in just an hour.
Complicated circumstances had inflated my reputation unfairly.
It was indeed a risky affair, but if my reputation had risen, I could easily knock it back down.
The time had come to show my true intentions.
All I needed to do was wield my sword, display my real skills, and soon enough, everything would return to normal.
I picked up my sword without hesitation and…
***
“Wait, please, Professor Riyan!”
“What’s going on?! Get these reporters out of here!”
The students quickly gathered to drive the reporters away.
People were being seized by muscular knights, blood-spattered, and thrown out.
While I was taken aback by the bizarre sight, a delicate-looking boy cautiously approached me.
With extreme care, Ciel mumbled something strange to me.
“I’m sorry, Professor. We found a way to halt the progression of your illness, but there’s no way to restore your body to its former state….”
Apparently, I wouldn’t be able to wield a sword as I used to.
If the enemy learned this fact, they would certainly seize the opportunity to attack during my weakened state, so I had to keep it a secret.
The protagonist was urging me earnestly.
But from my perspective, I was just baffled.
I couldn’t understand the nonsense he was spouting, no matter how hard I tried.
“Thanks to the herbs you all gave me, I’m not only free of pain but full of energy. I can still swing a sword like I used to.”
I had no memory of being terminally ill.
I hadn’t become so weak that I couldn’t even lift a wooden sword.
Yet, the students treated me like a patient on the verge of death.
To clear up this strange misunderstanding, I picked up my sword.
To emphasize my health, I swung the sword with all my strength, making sure to present a clumsy performance to lower my favorability.
An upgraded version of the demonstration I’d shown a few days ago.
Instead of merely tossing the sword, I went a step further, hitting my own foot and wailing in slapstick comedy.
There was no need for acting.
With my strength seemingly twice or three times greater than before, I struck my foot with such force that tears welled up naturally.
In front of everyone, I displayed my unfortunate swordsmanship skills, even shedding an awkward tear.
As expected, mocking laughter soon filled the training hall.
That should’ve been the conclusion.
But then… I heard sobbing.
Instead of laughter, the response was as if they were watching a tragic drama.
The training hall soon transformed into a sea of tears.
Rough, muscular figures hugged me tightly.
Dozens of boys and girls cried bitterly, blaming themselves for causing me sadness, insisting that it was their lack of skill that hurt me.
They were the ones crying, yet every single one of them told me not to cry.
Wiping their tears, the students all declared with one voice:
“We’ll— we’ll absolutely make you a Sword Master again, so please… don’t cry….”
My face was now smeared with tears and snot.
The students, making their own resolutions, left as quickly as they’d arrived.
Left alone, someone poked me in the side.
A man I’d once driven away with salt.
Despite that, he’d stubbornly written a tribute article—a madman.
The reporter from the Monthly Empire, Cromwell Edelphilt, stood before me, hidden under an invisibility cloak, having avoided the commotion alone.
His eyes sparkled brighter than ever.
He pleaded, promising never to reveal the secret if only I’d grant him an interview.
…Darkness enveloped my vision.
***
Meeting the Professor of the Hour
[The author had recently been in a slump.
No matter who I met or what stories I heard, I couldn’t feel interested. I knew exactly who was causing this feeling, but I couldn’t blame them.
How could I call it a sin, such noble character that refused to fade from my memory?
How could I resent someone for that?
So I had waited endlessly for this reunion.
I endured each day with difficulty, longing for the moment I could speak with that professor again.
Of course, as usual, the professor, indifferent to public opinion, tried to dismiss me.
But my preparations left him with no choice.
I informed him that if he refused the interview, I would turn to his students instead, using their words in the article.
As soon as he heard he might waste his students’ precious time, that passionate professor immediately changed his stance and agreed to participate in the interview.
“Let me say this first: I didn’t do anything. This was all the result of my brilliant students running wild on their own.”
Before the interview even started, Professor Riyan made that clear.
In a short span of time, he’d trained two Sword Masters, founded an adventuring party that conquered a labyrinth that had remained unbroken for thousands of years.
Reaching the pinnacle of both magic and swordsmanship, becoming the first to attain the realm of the Heart Sword—yet he claimed he had done nothing. Even something nonsensical has limits.
I naturally assumed he was joking and gave an awkward smile, but the professor was dead serious.
Professor Riyan even brought out a magical artifact that detects lies, a device typically used in interrogations, to prove that his words were true.
The professor continued making strange statements.
That he only gave his students shoddy lessons.
That it was mere coincidence that two of them became Sword Masters.
That he hadn’t contributed at all to the labyrinth conquest.
It was all so absurd, yet the crystal orb shone in a clear green light, confirming every word as the truth.
“Now do you understand? I’m not the person everyone thinks I am.”
Professor Riyan said this as he looked at me.
And I couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree.
The man everyone called a genius professor was actually the most unassuming fool.
It wasn’t hard to deduce.
If all his students had gained fame as adventurers, and two of them had even reached the level of Sword Masters, that was unmistakably due to the guidance of an exceptional teacher.
Yet, he denied that obvious fact, and the crystal orb still showed no hint of falsehood.
There was only one possibility left to consider.
The professor genuinely believed this.
He truly believed that his students were capable of achieving such feats.
Conquering a labyrinth undefeated for thousands of years, fighting and defeating demons, reaching the level of Sword Master, and even stepping beyond.
Although such feats should be impossible for a human, he believed that his students could do it. Even without his help, he trusted that they could accomplish it all on their own.
To him, his own achievements didn’t matter.
All that mattered were his praiseworthy students.
Professor Riyan was truly sincere in this belief.
That day, I realized that there is a kind of foolishness in the world that deserves the highest respect. This professor was the most unassuming, yet at the same time, the most noble person.
A man that every educator should strive to emulate…]
I simply closed the feature article.
Reading any more was pointless.
My head spun.
The nightmare I’d once dreamed was creeping closer to reality, and I broke into a cold sweat.
My mind kept returning to an old plan I’d once devised.
It would cause no victims, and I could easily handle any issues it caused, but it felt like crossing a line, so I’d abandoned the idea.
In the end, my feet moved sooner than I thought.
Out on the dim streets at night.
I walked the path that led to the main building of the academy.
Numerous security spells barred my way, but dispelling magic was one of my few specialties.
I breached all the academy’s defenses alone and reached my destination.
As I stood on the brink of executing my plan, a wave of guilt washed over me.
But if I looked at it from any angle, this was the world’s fault for driving me to this point.
So my hesitation was brief.
‘Desperate situations call for desperate measures.’
I would no longer hold back.
If survival required me to step into the realm of illegality, then so be it.
In other words…
Tonight, I would embezzle the Imperial Academy’s funds.