“I can’t accept this.” Shannon said sharply.
“And what exactly can’t you accept?” I asked, arching a brow.
“That I’m disqualified. This wasn’t a fair test. I was under much harsher conditions than anyone else. You stood in front of me the entire time!”
True. But so what?
I was the law here.
“The professor stands wherever he wants during class. And wasn’t that seat your choice?”
So she should have endured—through grit and stubbornness alone.
Shannon looked indignant.
“From the very start, the testing method itself was questionable. Do you really think you can evaluate a mage’s qualifications with something that requires no technique or finesse?”
I didn’t bother answering. Instead, I tilted my chin up, gazing down at her with all the arrogance I could muster. Go on, keep talking.
Her voice grew heated.
“And what about the way you distracted me at the end? You deliberately slammed your hand down—it was cowardly! Are you even an adult? You don’t deserve to be a professor!”
“Pathetic excuse. If your concentration was so fragile, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Shannon bit her lip hard.
She was too prideful not to realize she was effectively spitting on her own face by protesting like this.
I let her stew in that for a moment before speaking again.
“Surprising, really.”
“…What?”
“You wanted to attend my class this badly?”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you didn’t, why are you so upset about being disqualified? The only penalty is that you can’t participate in my lectures. So why waste your anger on me? If you hate me so much, you have no reason to stay in my class at all.”
It was blatant twisting of her words, of course.
For a second, Shannon frowned as if trying to process the logic—then she shook her head.
“That’s not it…”
“I get it now. You think you’re special. You think you’re so much better than everyone else that failing this test was impossible—so if you did fail, the test itself must be flawed. Classic childish cognitive dissonance.”
Her face flushed bright red.
I’d framed it however I wanted, but it was close enough to the truth to sting.
Raised as a prodigy from childhood, how could she not have at least a trace of arrogance buried deep down?
Even if she tried to restrain it, exceptional talent always came with pride.
Her voice grew quieter, which only confirmed it.
“You’re wrong. I only—”
“Silence.”
I cut her off, giving her no chance to explain.
“So all that talk about learning magic in Karaf, about which school you studied under—was just self-indulgent delusion?”
There are two things you should never do to a mage from Karaf.
The first is tickling them mid-chant.
The second—and far worse—is insulting their school or teacher.
The first might get your tongue cut in half. The second could start an actual war.
Karaf mages valued the honor of their mentors and schools more than their lives.
Which is why what I said next was a deliberate, vicious provocation.
“Your teacher must be ashamed of you. Then again, maybe it’s to be expected—like teacher, like student. I can picture exactly what kind of idiot trained you.”
“Stop.”
Shannon’s expression changed instantly.
This time it wasn’t anger or humiliation—it was something heavier.
“You’ve just insulted the honor of my school and my master. As a mage, you have no right to say that.”
“I merely stated a fact. If I’m wrong, prove me wrong. Though, frankly, someone like you doesn’t have the ability.”
Shannon grew calm—not because she’d accepted my words, but because this was no longer about her personally.
This was about the pride of her school, of Karaf’s mages as a whole.
The difference between her personal ego and the collective identity of her people was clear.
“Take that back. Now. Or else…”
I smiled faintly.
“Or else what?”
“I’ll challenge you to a duel.”
“Good.”
No hesitation. No pause.
Shannon blinked, clearly surprised I’d agreed so readily.
“You didn’t expect me to accept right away, did you?”
“However,” I added, “you’ll follow proper procedure and format.”
“…What?”
“What, did you think we’d just start throwing spells at each other here and now? This isn’t some playground, and it’s not Karaf. You’re at the Academy now—you follow Academy rules.”
A proper duel required paperwork, approvals, and several tedious formalities.
I wanted it that way—Shannon wouldn’t be able to back out later.
“If you want to back down, this is your last chance. Think carefully, Shannon Quinlivan.”
“Back down? Me? You think I can’t do it?!”
Good. That’s the spirit.
She clenched her teeth.
“Fine! But you promise—if I win, you’ll retract every insult you just said, and you’ll apologize to me and my master.”
“Not that it’ll happen, but fine. And if you lose?”
“Do whatever you want. Make me lick your shoes for all I care. Not that you’ll get the chance.”
“Then the next lecture will be replaced with a duel. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
“Just wait and see.”
Shannon glared at me one last time before storming out of the hall.
Bang!
The door slammed against the wall, rebounding as I nodded slightly to myself.
Exactly as planned.
The easiest way to establish authority was to crush challengers.
And the easiest way to earn Shannon’s respect was to defeat her decisively—to make her set her pride aside.
That’s the kind of person she was.
It was rough, sure, but getting her to challenge me was the first step toward making her an ally.
I could always make up for the harsh words later.
Now, time to wrap up class.
I glanced around at the survivors.
Only four remained standing—two upperclassmen, and surprisingly, two freshmen.
Considering even Shannon struggled to endure, it was strange… but then I noticed their seats had been right behind hers.
No doubt her mana field had acted as a shield, letting them survive by sheer luck.
Honestly, given Shannon’s level, whether these four passed or not didn’t matter to me, but I decided to let it slide.
“Those still standing pass.”
A collective sigh of relief.
“And that’s all for today.”
The class hadn’t even lasted an hour, but it wasn’t exactly the right atmosphere for teaching anymore.
Shorter classes suited me fine, anyway.
As I prepared to leave, someone in the second row raised her hand—a freshman who’d survived, with neatly braided black hair and a diligent look.
I gave a brief nod.
“Rita Ridge, Professor.”
“Speak.”
“Jacqueline seems to have fainted.”
Sure enough, next to her stood Jacqueline Dogwood, expression vacant, looking like her soul had left her body.
“Take her to the healers outside. If her condition is serious, they’ll move her to the infirmary.”
Fainting while standing—impressive, in its own way.
Still, she hadn’t fallen before the test ended, so… I supposed I’d count it as a pass.
***
Shannon stomped across the courtyard, trying to cool her temper.
But after a few minutes, she couldn’t hold it in anymore and kicked the ground in frustration.
“What the hell is wrong with him?!”
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
He’d singled her out, harassed her, mocked her, insulted her—and when she finally challenged him, he treated her like a child.
“Unbelievable! The audacity!”
She could tolerate the absurd test, even being disqualified.
But insulting her school and her master—that was the worst insult a mage could suffer.
For a mage of Karaf, challenging him to a duel had been inevitable.
Anyone from her school would have done the same.
But what unsettled her was how readily he’d accepted—without hesitation, as if he’d been waiting for her to say it.
…Did he do it on purpose?
If that were true, all his provocations would make perfect sense.
Maybe she’d simply played right into his hands.
“…”
No. Shannon shook her head.
Why would he?
Every action had a motive.
For all his infamous reputation, why would Professor Winslet waste this much effort provoking a freshman he’d just met?
Unless…
One possibility flashed through her mind.
What if he already knew who she was?
Could it be that he… remembered her?