The crimson-stained sky gradually regained its original color.
The bright sunlight poured down, and the blue expanse of the heavens unfolded.
My gaze locked with Gettya’s eyes.
The outcome of this battle had already been clear from the beginning.
The students had performed their roles admirably, delivering a decisive blow to Gettya’s vital spot.
The fact that Gettya hadn’t yet completely perished was nothing short of a miracle.
As evidence, its body began to crumble.
A demon with its heart pierced would soon turn to ash.
That was an undeniable reality.
Yet, Gettya did not flail in resistance or hurl curses in its final moments.
Instead, it silently looked at me.
So, I met its gaze in return.
Its lower body had already vanished, and despite its massive size, the perspective made it appear as if I was towering over Gettya.
The silence was broken first by Gettya.
“I do not understand,” it said, its voice carrying pure bewilderment.
It seemed genuinely unable to comprehend how things had come to this.
“The difference in power was obvious. You were neither mentioned in any prophecy nor possessed a physique worthy of note, one that might even be deemed cursed. And yet…”
Gettya’s words contained no lies.
Even as a reincarnator, I lacked the original knowledge of this world.
I was born with pitifully little magical power and a frail body that looked like it would collapse with a mere push.
“It can’t simply be dismissed as luck. To have been destined for failure in everything—your misfortune is so severe that it would be hard to find a handful of people as cursed as you in the entire world.”
The collaboration in the first cycle allowed me to erase that fate.
Now, I am free to live truly liberated from destiny, but what it said was not wrong.
My misfortune, both in my previous and current life, was catastrophic.
Though I managed to resolve it somehow, the thought of how much it had twisted my life left me feeling bitter.
To have carried such penalties, fought an enemy I shouldn’t have been able to defeat, and ended up with a decisive victory—no wonder it couldn’t understand.
Its confusion was more natural than anger.
“I… why did I lose to you?”
Its gaze begged for an answer.
The sight of Gettya asking this prompted me to pause and think.
What came to mind were fragments of various events.
Memories transmitted from the first cycle, the plans I began devising after watching the world end while living as a problem-solver in the slums instead of joining the academy.
The altered future, where I entered the academy and experienced numerous events as a professor, forming relationships with others, and somehow even defeating demons.
It had been a tumultuous journey.
Sharing all of that with Gettya would only lead to its demise before I could finish, but there was no need for such detail.
I could summarize everything in one simple way.
“It’s love.”
Gettya frowned at my response, as if convinced I was mocking it.
It seemed to think I was pulling a terrible joke.
But the basics should never be underestimated.
‘Isn’t it a fundamental cliché in academy stories?’
The final boss, unreasonably obsessed with the school, being defeated by the power of love—it’s an ancient tradition dating back to Voldemort.
What happened here was no different.
At first, they were just characters in a world of ink and paper, people unrelated to me.
But over time, those individuals became intertwined with me and formed bonds.
At the very last moment, the point where bad endings and happy endings diverged, I was able to charge forward despite thinking I couldn’t win.
That was because, absurdly enough, I had come to care for them as much as they cared for me.
Some were overly devoted, to the point of being burdensome.
A few were outright unhinged.
Treating me like a ruler of the north or something similar would’ve been less extreme than their behavior.
To claim I never considered rejecting them would be a lie.
But in the end, I, too, had grown attached.
Even after hearing my explanation, Gettya still seemed unable to accept it.
But there was no more time left.
I pulled out the dagger given to me by the royal family.
The very sword I held during the entrance exam.
I unsheathed it from my side and cleanly severed Gettya’s neck.
Only then did it feel like everything had truly ended.
Together, we defeated the final boss.
A common happy ending.
An ordinary conclusion you’d find anywhere.
And yet, a smile formed on my lips.
Stories that end in bad endings are mere kindling for a fire.
A tale where effort is rewarded, and everyone gets their share of happiness—what more could one wish for?
***
‘Now, there’s no more reason to worry.’
There was no need to fear being swept into the original storyline.
No more plotting to get fired, only to miss the chance to actually leave.
No more deliberately ignoring surefire solutions to victory and suffering because of it.
***
“This is the end for W.W.E.”
‘If I had begged for mercy and explained my situation, they would have surely let me go. But ignoring that option and stubbornly causing chaos—it was all over now.’
All that remained was to enjoy life at a leisurely pace.
‘Maybe I should take a vacation to relieve all the accumulated fatigue.’
A break of two or three years seemed like a good idea.
After enjoying some downtime, I could recharge my body and mind, find something I wanted to do, or even embark on a journey of self-discovery.
I smiled as I started planning my vacation…
And then, our eyes met.
No, “our eyes met” wasn’t the right expression.
I looked at Sion, but Sion couldn’t properly look back at me.
My mind started racing.
The words about killing Gettya with love.
My current state, having evolved into something akin to a draconian being.
It took less than three seconds to reach a conclusion.
What flashed through my mind was a horrifying image of myself as a breeding machine.
I had barely escaped the clichés of academy stories, and now I was facing the prospect of surviving an adult comic trope.
I began to retreat cautiously.
The blush on my face was evidence of my flustered state.
I wasn’t ready for this, and I thought it would be better to take things slow.
But I was already completely surrounded.
Behind me, I bumped into Professor Scott.
The old man gripped my hand firmly, almost uncomfortably so.
“It’s truly a blessing from the gods to have a talent like you as my successor at the Royal Academy!”
I glanced to the right in an attempt to escape, but it was no better.
Christianna stood there, tears streaming down her face.
She clasped her hands together, silently offering some sort of reverent prayer.
When I tried to step away, her eyes snapped open, and she spoke in an oddly solemn tone.
“I just heard a strange voice. It said the professor has no connection to the gods. It pleaded for you to get some sleep, saying it hasn’t been able to deliver any revelations for ten years because you haven’t rested.”
Christianna’s face hardened with determination as she declared sharply, “To interfere with my unwavering diligence to serve the gods 24/7—this must be the deceitful whisper of some demon!”
That’s not a demon—it sounds more like the god you’re serving.
Before I could voice that thought, she disappeared, seemingly off to eliminate the remaining demons.
I thought I heard a frustrated sigh from the heavens, but I had no time to dwell on it.
The students began approaching me.
Among them was Karin, the academy’s director, looking flustered and still in her pajamas.
She seemed baffled about why the academy building had collapsed again.
But other than her, the students all wore the same expressions—faces filled with awe, reverence, and misplaced admiration.
They began weaving wild stories as if on cue.
“The professor overexerted himself to protect us and now has a terminal condition. Even in his final moments, he put us first.”
Before I knew it, I had somehow become terminally ill.
“I thought rebirth and transformation were only found in novels. To think he transcended even his own species—I realize how inadequate I am. I need to train harder.”
Now I was a lunatic genius martial artist who had undergone a miraculous transformation on the brink of death.
“Of course! Professor, you predicted this outcome from the start, didn’t you?”
Suddenly, I was a brilliant strategist and prophet who had orchestrated this very ending.
“We’ll count on you forever, Professor!”
And just like that, I had become a lifetime professor.
The students gathered around, smiling brightly.
I didn’t even know where to begin correcting them.
From start to finish, every single thing they said was utterly nonsensical.
I held my aching forehead, lamenting how my plans for a peaceful vacation had devolved into this mess.
Normally, I would’ve been frustrated and exhausted by the situation.
But for some reason, a smile crept onto my lips.
‘No, that’s ridiculous. There has to be a limit to overestimating someone.’
Instead of addressing their absurd misunderstandings, I said with a sigh, “Alright then, I’ll count on you all from now on, too.”
Perhaps being mistaken for a genius professor wasn’t so bad after all.
I thought that to myself with a hint of resignation.
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