Ch.17Black Magic Professor (2)

I walked into the Academy entrance with a light step after using Holy Magic to heal myself. The pain had been intense—especially today’s punch, which had been delivered with considerable force.

In situations like this, Holy Magic was the answer. By infusing my core with pure white energy and circulating mana throughout my body, the throbbing pain disappeared.

When I arrived at the Academy entrance with my newly lightened body, a guard approached me. I had expected the Headmaster might have left word about me, but apparently not.

“What brings you here today?”

“The Headmaster summoned me.”

“Huh? Wait—did you also come yesterday?”

I found his question strange but answered anyway.

“Yes, I did.”

I had definitely encountered him once—no, twice—yesterday. When entering the Academy and when leaving. That should have been memorable enough, so his question genuinely confused me.

He scratched his helmet awkwardly and said, “You look quite different now, so I didn’t recognize you. Please go right in. The Headmaster already informed us about you.”

Had my appearance changed so dramatically that he couldn’t recognize me? What exactly did I look like before?

But there was no point dwelling on it now, so I simply nodded and entered the Academy. Recalling yesterday’s visit with my master, I successfully made my way to the Headmaster’s office.

I knocked on the door a couple of times, and a familiar voice responded.

“Come in.”

When I opened the door, I faced not just an old man, but the Sage himself. Now that I thought of him as the Sage, his aura seemed completely different. His long beard looked dignified, and the patches of white in his hair seemed like traces of magical practice.

The Headmaster, who had been working at his desk, stood up and offered me his hand. I gently clasped his hand with both of mine.

Honestly, I probably deserved a scolding from my master for initiating a handshake with someone of the Sage’s stature yesterday.

“Crow. No, Professor Crow, I’ve been waiting for you.”

My heart swelled at being called “Professor.” I never imagined coming to the Academy, let alone as a professor rather than a student. It made me wonder if someone had cast the Black Magic spell of illusion on me.

“Please, have a seat. Let’s talk.”

The Headmaster explained my duties as an Academy professor. As someone new to teaching, I needed to absorb everything he said, but the most important matter was the entrance exam two weeks away.

“Although it’s a temporary position, you are currently our only Black Magic professor. You’ll need to grade the practical exams for Black Magic.”

I was honestly taken aback. Though I had become a professor, suddenly being responsible for evaluating others was daunting.

What the Headmaster added next was even more shocking.

“This entrance exam will likely draw the largest crowd since the Academy’s founding.”

The number of Black Magic applicants alone would be enormous.

The problem was that I would have to handle all of them by myself.

Perhaps my master could help?

“Are you crazy? You expect me to help with that?”

My master flatly rejected my request when I returned from the Academy.

In truth, my master would be perfect as a Black Magic professor. Despite being somewhat violent, that’s a small price to pay for excellent instruction.

But my master was already busy running the workshop and had no interest in teaching. I couldn’t force the issue—not that I could force my master to do anything.

Instead, I thought I might at least get some advice.

“Master, if you were grading Black Magic, what would you focus on?”

“The overall flow.”

My master’s answer was vague, but I understood what it meant.

The medium.

In Black Magic, the medium typically refers to a part of the caster’s body—blood and flesh. Of course, there are exceptions like undead animation or demon summoning that use others’ bodies simultaneously, but those are exceptions.

In a one-on-one mock battle format for the practical exam, the key would be how well Black Magic users could manage the burden from their medium.

That was the “overall flow” my master mentioned.

My master added more while packing potions into a bag.

“From what I’ve seen, the number of Black Magic users who could pass the entrance exam can be counted on one hand.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because Black Magic users are weak in mock battles.”

Black Magic users are indeed relatively weak in mock battles where potions can’t be used.

But that alone didn’t explain it. With just a little blood as a medium, they could use Black Magic like knockout, confusion, or illusion spells.

If the battle doesn’t drag on, there’s no need for potions.

As if reading my thoughts, my master slung a small bag over a shoulder and said:

“My apprentice, you’re thinking of yourself as an average Black Magic user? That’s the problem.”

So I’m not an average Black Magic user?

“Having talent in the darkness attribute means you need less medium. When you cast Instant Death, you use a pool of blood as your medium, right?”

“Well, yes…”

I raised my hand and drew a rough circle. That was the size of the blood pool I needed to cast Instant Death.

“Even I, your master, need to use about a wrist’s worth as a medium for Instant Death. You understand what that means?”

With those words, my master left for a delivery, and I was lost in thought.

My master, whom I consider extraordinary, uses a whole wrist as a medium for Black Magic…

So the less talent one has in the darkness attribute, the more medium they need for Black Magic.

That puts Black Magic users at a severe disadvantage in mock battles.

Needing more medium means more than just larger wounds.

When using Black Magic, the medium must be near the caster.

I’m not sure of the exact range, but roughly within a circle formed by outstretched arms.

With not just mages but warriors, rogues, and archers in the mix, keeping your medium nearby while dodging attacks is nearly impossible.

Now I understand why my master said they could be counted on one hand.

* * * * *

Two weeks passed incredibly quickly. No, it felt too short.

Preparing for the entrance exam alone was busy enough, but researching materials for Black Magic theory classes made me wish I had two bodies.

Fortunately, the Academy library had surprisingly many documents on Black Magic, though most were over 300 years old and quite worn.

After spending every waking moment busy with preparations, the day of the entrance exam finally arrived.

Before the written test, I was inspecting the first examination hall with Professor Anette, the Fire Magic professor.

“Professor Crow, please let me know if you sense any mana fluctuations.”

According to Professor Anette, last year a count’s son was caught cheating. Apparently, he had snuck in the night before and installed some kind of transfer magic under a desk.

Honestly, I know little about non-attribute magic, so I didn’t fully understand.

But I could detect mana, so identifying cheating wouldn’t be a problem.

“Professor Anette, there’s nothing unusual on this side.”

After checking half the examination hall, I reported back. Professor Anette approached me, her pink hair fluttering.

“Thank you for your hard work. By the way, so that tattoo behind your ear is real?”

“Yes… it is.”

Seeing my uncomfortable response, she gave an awkward smile.

I’d grown somewhat used to it, but direct questions still made me uneasy.

Wanting to break the awkward atmosphere, I approached the firmly closed doors of the examination hall and looked at Professor Anette.

“I’ll open the doors now.”

Professor Anette nodded, indicating it was time to let the examinees in.

When I opened the doors, students began pouring in like a flood.

Fortunately, I stepped back quickly—otherwise, I would have been flattened.

Professor Anette stood at the front of the hall where everyone could see her and announced loudly:

“Everyone, check your exam number on the desk and take your seat. Anyone caught cheating or having someone take the test for them will be immediately expelled.”

She exuded the dignity of a veteran professor.

I wondered if I would become like that with time, but first I needed to become a regular professor. No need to get ahead of myself.

Once all the examinees were seated, Professor Anette approached me and whispered:

“Professor Crow, please walk around once among the examinees and come back. You know why, right?”

I nodded. It was to check once more for any potential cheating.

I walked slowly between the desks, concentrating all my senses to detect even the faintest mana.

But my concentration didn’t last long.

When I reached the third row, I locked eyes with someone.

Though she had grown noticeably thinner and cut her hair to shoulder length, I couldn’t mistake her.

The leader of the Black Crows who had disappointed me.

The daughter of Duke Gideon, Lael Gideon.