Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor - Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Resolute [5]
The next morning.

The doctor came in for a check–up.

The door clicked open, and a doctor in a white coat stepped inside, holding a clipboard in one hand and adjusting his glasses with the other.

“Vanitas Astrea?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

The doctor approached.

“Firstly, you’ve been using magic without a medium, correct?”

“Yes.”

The doctor sighed, lowering his clipboard slightly.

“It’s fine for Master–ranked spells and below, but anything beyond that…”

He adjusted his glasses, his eyes narrowing.

“You’d risk permanent nerve damage or, in the worst case, lose an arm.”

“I see….”

Of course, he was aware.

But what he hadn’t been aware of—at least, not until Soliette mentioned it—was that his spell back in Index had reached the firepower of a Grandmaster spell.

“I strongly advise you to start using a medium as soon as possible.”

“Understood.”

The doctor gave a short nod but didn’t move.

“Now comes the serious part,” the doctor said.

Vanitas raised a brow but didn’t speak.

“I’ve kept your medical record confidential, even from your sister,” the doctor began. “But during the treatment, we discovered an underlying condition in your body.”

“….”

Vanitas closed his eyes for a moment, already knowing what was coming. He exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers lightly on the edge of the blanket.

The doctor glanced at him, watching for a reaction, but seeing none, he continued.

“You have Stage Three Mana Core Degeneration Syndrome.”

“….”

Thankfully, they didn’t disclose the matter to anyone. Even to Charlotte. She didn’t have to know. She didn’t have to trouble herself with it.

That being said, if news came out that he had Mana Core Degeneration syndrome, his market value would plummet.

He couldn’t have that.

“I’m aware,” he said.

The doctor raised a brow but quickly nodded, continuing with his explanation.

“From what we’ve traced, it appears the syndrome began roughly five years ago. Typically, Mana Core Degeneration patients don’t live beyond ten years from the onset of symptoms.”

His voice was even but respectful, as though he were handling fragile glass.

“However,” the doctor added, adjusting his glasses. “Given your excessive use of magic, that timeline has been shortened.”

“How much time do I have left?”

The doctor hesitated for a moment. His grip on the clipboard tightened before he spoke.

“Three years,” he said solemnly. “At most.”

“….I see.”

“There is a treatment option,” he said. “Mana Chemotherapy. It’s a chance I advise you to consider.

“….”

He glanced up to gauge Vanitas’s reaction. Nothing. The man was as still as stone.

“Mana Chemotherapy treatment can slow down the progression, and there’s a chance it could—”

“No,” Vanitas said calmly.

“Excuse me?”

“No,” Vanitas repeated.

The doctor frowned. “I understand this might be difficult to process, but Mana Chemotherapy could—”

“No.”

“….”

The doctor paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. He glanced down at his clipboard as if searching for something to refute him, but nothing came.

Vanitas leaned back into the bed, resting his head against the pillow.

Because he had done his research.

He had spent hours, days, months, poring over every medical journal, every ancient text, every mage’s theory related to Mana Core Degeneration Syndrome.

He had seen the case reports. He had read the testimonies.

There were no survivors.

It didn’t matter how early they were diagnosed. It didn’t matter how much money they poured into treatment. The result was the same for every single one of them.

Death.

Mana Chemotherapy was nothing more than a scam.

The hospitals knew it. The doctors knew it. Everyone knew it.

But they prescribed it anyway, claiming it “buys time” or “offers a chance.”

What it really offered was profit. Desperation, after all, was a lucrative business.

It must’ve been for that reason, why their mother never underwent such treatments.

But in the first place, no one knew, not even her, until it became severe.

“Mr. Astrea,” the doctor said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Vanitas replied, eyes closed, his head leaning back against the pillow. “I’m sure.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment.

“I see,” the doctor said. “I’ll make a note of it in your record. If you ever change your mind, the option will still be there.”

Vanitas didn’t respond.

The doctor gave him one last glance before stepping toward the door. He hesitated, turning back for a moment.

“You’re…. handling this quite well,” he muttered. “Most patients don’t.”

“People only panic when they think there’s something to lose,” Vanitas said, opening one eye to glance at the doctor. “I’ve already made peace with it.”

“….”

The doctor didn’t reply. He simply nodded, opened the door, and left.

The door clicked shut.

Vanitas stared at the ceiling.

“Three years, huh?’

His fingers tapped lightly on his blanket.

“Plenty of time.”

***

With no other issues, Vanitas was discharged from the hospital immediately. He didn’t see the point in staying any longer, and he certainly wasn’t going to pay more.

Inside the room, he spotted a neatly packed bag filled with fresh clothes. Judging by how organized it was, he knew exactly who had done it.

“Charlotte….” he muttered under his breath.

He couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Once he left the hospital, his driver, Evan, was already waiting for him in the parking lot.

Evan stepped forward, opening the back door with a slight bow.

“Good to see you again, Evan,” Vanitas greeted, stepping in.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Lord Vanitas.”

The car rolled out of the lot and cruised smoothly down the road. Vanitas leaned back, letting out a quiet breath.

But just as they were passing the hospital entrance, something caught his eye.

“Wait,” he said, sitting forward.

His eyes narrowed on the sight outside the window.

“Stop the car.”

Evan quickly pulled over, and Vanitas rolled down the window.

There, at the hospital entrance, he spotted two familiar figures.

Charlotte and Cassandra.

Both of them were just about to enter the hospital when Vanitas called out.

“Charlotte!” he yelled.

They stopped in their tracks and turned toward the sound of his voice. The moment Charlotte saw him, her eyes lit up with surprise.

“Vanitas!?” she exclaimed, hurrying toward the car with Cassandra following behind her.

Her eyes scanned him quickly as she approached.

“Are you okay?” she asked, leaning slightly into the open window.

“I’m fine,” Vanitas said. “Get in.”

Charlotte blinked, then nodded. She walked to the other side of the car, opened the door, and slipped into the seat beside him.

Vanitas glanced at Cassandra, who stood awkwardly by the curb.

Her hands clutched the hem of her uniform tightly as her gaze darted between him and Charlotte.

She looked like a kid who’d just been caught skipping class.

“What are you doing, Cassandra?” Vanitas called out. “Get in.”

“Ah—yes! Right away!” she stammered, snapping to attention like a soldier being scolded.

She hurriedly opened the door and slid into the seat next to Charlotte.

Once everyone was inside, Evan resumed driving.

Charlotte leaned back in her seat, letting out a breath of relief. She glanced at Vanitas from the corner of her eye.

“You’re really okay?” she asked again.

“Yeah,” Vanitas replied, his voice calm but firm.

There was a pause. Charlotte’s eyes didn’t leave him. She leaned forward slightly, her brows knitting together.

“What happened?” she asked. “I heard about the incident at Index, but how did you even get caught up in that mess?”

Her words hung in the air.

Vanitas didn’t answer right away. His gaze shifted to the window, watching the city blur past as the car moved steadily forward.

He could tell from her tone that she already had bits and pieces of the story. It was only natural.

It was Index, after all.

Even if the Council tried to keep it quiet, news of Mikhail’s escape and death would spread like wildfire.

The entire mage society would be talking about it for weeks, maybe even months.

Vanitas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Long story short,” he muttered, glancing at Charlotte, “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Is that so…?”

Silence settled over the car. Vanitas could feel Cassandra sneaking glances at him from the corner of his eye, but she didn’t say anything either.

He decided to shift the topic.

“How were the lectures this week?” he asked. “How did Karina do?”

“Oh, it was quite…. something.”

“Something?” Vanitas raised a brow.

“Well, to summarize it, she did her best.”

He hummed in amusement, leaning back into the seat.

Before he left, he had left instructions for Karina to oversee a single test. It was a simple, self-study exercise meant to keep the students on track during his brief absence.

Initially, it was only supposed to be a single day of his absence. He was expected to return the following morning. But with the incident at Index, things hadn’t gone as planned.

His lectures had likely been on pause for the rest of the week, unless Karina had taken charge.

*

As soon as they arrived at the University Tower, the car rolled to a smooth stop.

Charlotte and Cassandra stepped out first, with Vanitas following closely behind.

“Go in,” he said, adjusting his coat. “Make sure they’re all settled by the time I enter the lecture hall.”

Charlotte turned her head slightly, giving him a look that seemed to say he was asking for the impossible.

Vanitas raised a brow. “You’ve done harder things, Charlotte.”

“Yes, but….”

“If you do, I’ll help you adjust the circuits to that Master–spell of yours.”

“Ah.”

Charlotte blinked, stunned. Vanitas had told her not to use that spell until she’d acclimated to magic beyond advanced.

However, the ever stubborn girl she was, Charlotte practiced secretly anyway.

Of course, it didn’t escape his perception. As an older brother, Vanitas monitored his little sister whenever he had free–time.

“….”

Charlotte didn’t say anything, and headed inside. Cassandra followed right behind her, but just as she reached for the door, she stopped.

“Cassandra?” Vanitas called.

She didn’t move. Her hand hovered over the handle, as if something plagued her mind.

“….”

Her gaze shifted toward him, eyes filled with a mix of hesitation and something else he couldn’t quite place.

The whole car ride, she’d been like this. Stealing glances at him, fidgeting with her sleeves, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something but always stopped short.

“I…. I’m glad you’re okay, Professor.”

Her voice was quiet but sincere, her eyes meeting his briefly before she glanced away.

Vanitas blinked, caught off guard. His lips twitched into a faint smile.

“Thank—”

But before he could finish, Cassandra pulled the door open and darted inside, hurrying to Charlotte’s side as if she’d just confessed something embarrassing.

“….”

Vanitas merely shook his head and stepped inside.

On his way to his office, Professors greeted him, offering their concerns and so on. Vanitas would nod his head and give his thanks.

The incident at Index was downplayed in public reports. In other words, it was reduced to a brief summary of “containment efforts and casualties.”

But within the circles of the Scholars Institution, the truth was known. Word spread quickly among Professors and researchers.

That Vanitas Astrea had taken part in the battle, saving guards, reducing casualties, holding back Edmund, the necromancer, and facing Mikhail, a former Great Power.

While there were still boundaries, considering the past actions of the original Vanitas, they couldn’t help but respect him.

Slowly, but surely, he would change their perceptions of him.

As soon as Vanitas entered his office, he settled on his desk. The office was impeccably spotless as always. Most probably, Karina’s doing.

“Hm?”

The moment his gaze landed on Karina’s desk, something peculiar caught his attention.

It was a notebook.

[Personal Guide to Professorship]

“Oh?”

From the penmanship itself, It was clearly written by Karina.

Curiosity rose within him. Vanitas approached her desk. Working with her for a month, it was clear to him that Karina was a hard worker.

“What kind of notes does she take?”

It was highly likely she was taking pointers from his lectures.

He wasn’t a narcissist, but it was natural to be curious about how others perceived him.

Especially from someone like Karina, who was a blank slate with no prior connection to the original Vanitas.

These notes could be Karina’s personal takeaways from his lectures so far.

He wasn’t sure if he was doing a great job as a professor, but he was certain he wasn’t doing a bad one either.

And he was always open to valid criticism.

Flip—

The moment his eyes landed on the first page, he froze.

[Case Study Profiling — Professor Vanitas]

“….”

There was even a rough sketch that seemed to be him, but if it looked like him, he couldn’t tell.

[∎ Call them out by name during lectures. (Even if they’re just breathing. Bonus points if they flinch.)]

“….”

What the….

[∎ Ask “Does anyone have questions?” but don’t call on anyone who raises their hand. (They’ll question their own existence.)]

“….She definitely read through the books I bought last time.”

While some of the purchases were deliberate, there were others he didn’t buy on purpose.

He thought some of the books were reasonable guides. Turned out, it was nothing but satire.

Flip—

[∎ Randomly pause mid-sentence and stare at nothing. (The fear of “Did I miss something?” will keep them awake.)]

“Is this for real…?”

Was this how Karina thought of him?

“Does she hate me or something?” he began questioning himself. “I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever been nice to her—”

Slam—!

The door slammed open.

Vanitas shot up and quickly put the notebook down.

“Hieeek—!”

Karina’s scream echoed through the room. Her eyes went wide like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She was breathing heavily as if she’d sprinted the entire way. Her gaze immediately zeroed in on the book.

“P-Professor!” she stammered, rushing toward him. “I—You—Why are you back so soon!? You weren’t supposed to—”

She didn’t even finish her sentence.

Like a wild animal, she darted forward and snatched the book from his hands with a speed that could only be described as “inhuman.”

With the book pressed tightly against her chest, she looked at him with wide, trembling eyes, her face as red as a ripe tomato.

“D-Did you….”

“I didn’t—” Vanitas raised his hands, trying to de-escalate.

“You did!” she yelped, cutting him off.

Her entire face went bright red as she began to shake.

“You totally did! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”