Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor - Chapter 73

Chapter 73: Sorting it Out [1]
A week had passed since the conference.

Roselyn woke up in a room that felt unfamiliar.

“Ah?”

She blinked, then remembered.

“Right.”

It wasn’t truly unfamiliar. Just new.

After finalizing several business deals, Roselyn had received incentives and advances. In just a week, she had earned enough to move into a better apartment.

Now, she lived in a cleaner, more secure, private, and slightly more expensive apartment in the heart of the empire.

Things had been peaceful since Professor Claude’s dismissal from the academy.

Roselyn knew she had Professor Vanitas to thank for everything.

While she hadn’t yet been elevated to the status of Professor, she was confident it was only a matter of time.

For now, she had tasks at hand. Tasks she was more than willing to complete.

Stepping out of her bedroom, Roselyn entered the vacant room she had designated as her workshop.

Several boxes filled with alchemy materials and tools were neatly stacked in the corner, waiting to be unpacked.

She approached one box marked with Professor Vanitas’s name and carefully opened it.

Inside, she found a dormant trinket coin, two shards emanating magical energy, and a note attached.

She smiled as she read the note, recalling their conversation.

The Professor had mentioned he didn’t have a proper medium and asked her to create one for him. He had even offered to pay her, but Roselyn refused.

Without hesitation, she agreed, feeling honored by the request.

“A gauntlet, huh?” Roselyn said, holding the materials in her hands.

Her smile grew as ideas began forming in her mind.

“Okay, I can do that.”

***

“We have two months and a few weeks to prepare for the play. Does anyone have any ideas?”

The drama club meeting was in full swing. Charlotte sat quietly among the group, surrounded by senior and first-year students.

She wasn’t particularly close to anyone. There was someone from her class in the room, though—a boy with cerulean hair and yellow eyes.

Still, she wasn’t close to him either.

“Could I write the script, senior?”

The boy raised his hand.

Silas Ainsley.

The club president tilted her head.

“Do you have experience writing scripts, Silas?”

“Not officially,” he replied. “But I’ve done creative writing before. I think I can handle it. I’d appreciate the opportunity.”

Another student, a senior with short brown hair, raised her hand. “I’d like to try writing the script too.”

“Me as well,” added a first-year girl with glasses.

The president smiled. She appreciated the enthusiasm of this batch of new members.

“Alright. Let’s do this. Everyone interested in writing the script will have one week to submit a draft. We’ll review all the submissions and choose the best one to use for the play. Sound fair?”

The volunteers nodded in agreement, including Charlotte.

“Great! If you have any questions or need guidance, feel free to reach out.”

A hand shot up from the back of the room.

“Yes?” the president asked.

“What’s the theme?”

The president paused, tapping her chin.

“We don’t have a specific theme. But I’d say…. let’s aim for something unconventional. Something that’ll surprise the entire university.”

It wasn’t much to go with, but it left plenty of room for creativity and fresh ideas.

The meeting continued, with members discussing logistics and deadlines.

Finally, the president stood up and clapped her hands. Clap, clap—!

“Alright, that’s settled then. Good luck, everyone! Let’s make this play unforgettable.”

As the members began packing up to leave, Silas suddenly called out to Charlotte.

“Hey, Charlotte, right?”

Charlotte paused, looking surprised. “Yes? What do you need?”

“If my script gets accepted, would you consider playing the lead role?”

“M-Me?” Charlotte stammered.

“Yeah. I think you’d be perfect for it.”

Charlotte hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “I… I’m not sure…. I’ve never thought of playing a lead role this early on….”

“That’s fine,” Silas said. “Think about it. No pressure.”

“Hmm….”

Charlotte pondered, pinching her chin. It was a tempting opportunity, though unexpected.

She had planned to learn from the senior members by observing them first, considering playing smaller roles to gain experience.

While she had acted in lead roles before, that was years ago, back when she was just a child.

“I’ll consider it,” Charlotte said. “But if that’s the case, could I collaborate on the script with you? I won’t change much, just a few suggestions here and there.”

Silas smiled. “Sure. I’d actually appreciate the feedback.”

“Alright,” Charlotte nodded. “Let me know when you’ve got something ready.”

“I will. Thanks for considering it.”

Charlotte stepped out of the room, feeling a mix of confusion and happiness.

Why had Silas considered her? Maybe it was because she was the only familiar face he recognized.

Still, the idea of being chosen for something so significant made her feel…. excited, even if she wasn’t sure she’d accept.

She decided she’d consider it, depending on the script’s contents.

Nodding to herself, Charlotte headed toward the newly renamed Arcane Research and Development Club.

Previously, Astrid and friends.

Upon reaching the clubroom, Charlotte pushed the door open and immediately froze at the scene before her.

“….”

——Hold still, commoner!

——Ah, she’s here. Chevrolet, help me!

“Uh….”

What’s going on?

Astrid stood in the middle of the room. A floating needle was chasing a frantic Ezra.

“I was right all along! This shitty princess wants to sacrifice me!” Ezra shouted, running from the needle.

“Uh….”

“I told you!” Astrid said. “Your mana is, for some reason, the purest among us! I just need a sample! Just one!”

“Fuck no!”

Charlotte tilted her head, crossing her arms.

“….Should I come back later?”

***

“Uekh!”

Vanitas retched, gripping the edge of the sink. Blood stained the white surface.

“Tsk.”

He clicked his tongue in frustration, staring down at the mess with a deep frown.

He knew his body was failing. Everyday, he felt weaker, and there were often times he felt light–headed.

Yet, he pushed through, day after day.

Wiping his mouth, he straightened and looked into the mirror. His pale face and tired eyes stared back at him.

“I’ll be fine.”

Ever since he uncovered Vanitas Astrea’s connection to the death of the Imperial Queen, Julia, a sense of unease had lingered in his mind.

It was due to the fragments of memories that didn’t belong to him.

Vanitas Astrea coldly killing Vanessa that day.

“Uekh…!”

He retched again, unable to bear the nausea he felt any longer.

After retching a few more times, Vanitas rinsed his mouth and stepped out of the bathroom. Turning to a corner, he spotted Margaret staring out the window.

She turned when she noticed him.

“Ah, Vanitas. I mean—Professor.”

“Hey,” he greeted casually, as if he wasn’t in agony a few moments ago. “What are you doing here? How are your lectures going?”

“They’re fine. I think I’ve pretty much adjusted,” Margaret said with a smile. “I came here to drop off some reports. What about you, Professor? You look a little…. pale.”

Margaret glanced from the corner of her eye.

“I’m fine,” Vanitas said. “Just a little stomach ache.”

“Is that so?” Margaret frowned. “You should try ginger tea with a bit of honey. It works wonders for digestion and stomach pains.”

“Ginger tea?”

“Yes. It’s simple to make, and it might help. Do you want me to bring you some later?”

“I’ll manage. But thanks for the suggestion.”

Margaret nodded. “Alright, but if it doesn’t get better, you should see someone about it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Vanitas said, turning to leave.

Just as Vanitas took a few steps, he stopped. Something clicked in his mind.

Though his cancer wasn’t the conventional kind, he recalled reading about ginger’s potential benefits in reducing inflammation and fighting cancer cells.

It was far from a cure, but it had properties that might alleviate symptoms or slow progression.

He had never tried this remedy before. He had tried other treatments, and if ginger tea worked even a little, it was worth a shot.

“On second thought, I wouldn’t mind trying it if you’re offering.”

Margaret blinked in surprise before smiling.

“Of course. I’ll bring it to your office later.”

“Thanks,” he said, before heading down the hall and entering his office.

Sitting at his desk, Vanitas pulled out a stack of documents. Karina wasn’t around. She was busy helping Roselyn move into her new place.

He began drafting his lecture for Wednesday.

Time passed unnoticed until a knock at the door broke the silence.

To— Tok.

Vanitas glanced up. “Come in.”

Margaret stepped inside, holding a small thermos.

“I brought the tea,” she said, setting it on his desk. “Drink it while it’s warm.”

“You didn’t have to rush.”

“It’s no trouble. Try it. If it doesn’t help, let me know.”

He picked up the thermos and took a sip. The warmth and slight spiciness of the ginger settled in his stomach.

He closed his eyes briefly. The nausea he’d been ignoring for hours began to fade, and his breathing felt smoother.

“….Surprisingly effective.”

“Really?” Margaret’s eyes sparkled. “That’s great.”

Vanitas set the cup down and looked at her.

Margaret.

A Grand Knight who would one day face betrayal, see her order dismantled, and fall into despair.

Depression and illness would consume her if events unfolded as they had in the game’s narrative.

He wanted to help her—not out of kindness, but because Margaret would be an invaluable ally in the future.

Though exposing the traitor would be difficult.

‘No, perhaps there is a way….’

He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was worth a shot. That person…. he would definitely be riled up.

“Margaret.”

“Yes? Do you need more tea?”

“No,” Vanitas shook his head. “Are you free right now?”

“Ah?” Margaret blinked. “I have a lecture at 4:30. Why?”

“Would you like to play League of Spirits?”

Margaret’s eyes lit up with interest. Vanitas knew she enjoyed the game, even if she wasn’t particularly skilled at it.

“I guess I could play,” Margaret said with a smile. “Still, that’s unexpected. You’ve never played this game with anyone before.”

“I took a liking to it during our time apart.”

“Time apart….” Margaret mumbled, perhaps taken aback.

“Shall we?”

Margaret nodded eagerly. “Alright, but don’t blame me if you lose.”

Vanitas pulled the League of Spirits box from the cabinet and set it on the desk. He had played this game plenty of times with Karina during their free time.

As the cards were drawn and the game began, Vanitas started a conversation.

“Your Crusade Order,” he said, placing a card. “Did you heed my warning?”

“Warning?” Margaret blinked and set down her own card.

Then, she remembered.

“Oh…. Can we not talk about that?”

“Apologies,” Vanitas said calmly as he attacked her unit.

“I don’t know if you were joking or not back then,” Margaret continued, defending her unit. “But there are no traitors within my Order.”

Vanitas nodded and defended against her counterattack.

“Have you been visiting them?”

“Yes,” Margaret nodded again, counterattacking. “I’m still overseeing their training whenever I have the chance. They’re quite independent, actually.”

Vanitas nodded once more, drawing a card.

“Clevius, was it?” he asked, setting down another card. “Your second in command. He seems quite capable.”

“Yes,” Margaret said, drawing a card. “He’s the one holding things down while I’m gone. I appreciate him.”

“Is that so?”

The game continued as they conversed.

In the end, Vanitas won.

“…You too?” Margaret muttered, glaring at the board.

“It was a good game.”

Margaret pouted her lips, fixing her eyes on the board, before sighing and nodding in defeat.

Noticing her reaction, Vanitas suggested, “Do you want to play again.”

Margaret’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please. I won’t lose this time.”

Vanitas chuckled. This was the Margaret he remembered from the game, always competitive in everything she did.

The cards were shuffled, and the second match began.

“In the past,” Vanitas began. “How was I?”

“Ah?” Margaret blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Well… you were stern and cold. At least, that’s how others perceive you.”

“Others?” Vanitas placed a card on the table. “What about you? What did you think?”

“To me, you often looked…. sad. Like you were masking it behind that cold demeanor of yours. It felt like you were hiding something.”

Vanitas didn’t respond immediately, instead drawing another card.

“Sad, huh?”

“Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to say, but that’s how I saw you. I never really disliked you, though.”

“What about now?” he asked. “What do you think of me now?”

Margaret’s gaze drifted to the game board as if lost in thought. She didn’t respond right away.

Finally, she spoke. “You’ve changed…..”

She hesitated, her words trailing off before she shook her head.

“No, change isn’t the right word. It’s more like…. you’ve reverted. To your younger self. Like—”

She stopped mid-sentence and gave a small smile.

“Never mind.”

Vanitas’s curiosity piqued, but he didn’t press her. Instead, he played his next card.

“It’s your move.”

In the end, Margaret lost again.

“….I’m never winning,” she said, before slumping on the desk.

***

It was visitation day. Silas entered the mental asylum and sat across from his sister.

“Arwen.”

She looked up at him. Her expression seemed hollow with a tinge of paranoia. She didn’t respond, simply staring.

“You’ll get the justice you deserve. I’ll make sure of it.”

He leaned forward, his voice even colder than before.

“I’ll expose him. In his weakest moment, I’ll make him realize the reality of his actions. You don’t have to suffer alone, Arwen. I’ll destroy Vanitas Astrea.”

“….”

Arwen didn’t react at first. But the moment the name “Vanitas Astrea” left his lips, her blank expression shifted.

Her eyes widened, and tears began to fall silently as she stared at him.

Silas frowned, contorting into a look of disgust as he watched her.

“Even now, you’re still an idiot,” he muttered.