The meeting was finally nearing its end.
Dean Kimberly Kelly skimmed through the prepared handouts as if trying to escape this madhouse even one second sooner.
“Then the last agenda item. There’s one budget request. But, Professor Corrigan?”
“Yes?”
“You mentioned just a while ago, didn’t you? That the carryover budget was… let’s see.”
“Emergency fund.”
“Yes, you said it was already earmarked as Professor Winslet’s emergency fund. But someone here submitted a request to use that carryover budget?”
“Ah.”
“Professor Corrigan, I mean you. What’s going on here?”
Corrigan’s face turned pale.
Wasn’t she the same Corrigan who had been passionately defending Professor Winslet’s dereliction of duty just minutes ago?
The dean had assumed Corrigan belonged to Winslet’s faction and had submitted the budget request with his permission.
Apparently not.
Corrigan’s voice trembled.
“I… I was in a hurry, so I secretly…”
“You secretly submitted it?”
“Y-Yes. I thought I wouldn’t get caught…”
The carryover budget of the Magic University was considered Winter Winslet’s property.
No one was allowed to touch it.
That was the unspoken rule here.
Corrigan knew that too.
She just thought it wouldn’t matter if she didn’t get caught.
After all, Winter Winslet had no interest in how the academy operated, had never attended meetings, and with the dean’s seat vacant at the time, administrative chaos had left a perfect gap.
If she acted quickly, she believed she could draw from the budget without Winslet ever noticing.
But of all days.
He had shown up to the meeting today.
‘Did he come because he already knew?’
If so, her death had been decided before the meeting even started.
The reason Corrigan had defended Winslet’s privileges so fervently earlier was because of the guilt weighing on her.
Hoping for leniency, she glanced nervously at Professor Winslet’s face…
“Hiccup!”
And, of course, started hiccuping again.
Professor Winslet spoke.
“Professor Corrigan.”
“…Y-Yes.”
“How much do you need.”
“Excuse me?”
“I asked how much you requested.”
She couldn’t understand why he’d ask that.
Was he testing her?
A trap?
Corrigan cursed Winslet in her head.
‘As if he has any intention of giving it to me…’
But she had nothing left to lose, so Corrigan decided to gamble.
“I didn’t request that amount for personal gain, you know? Transformation Magic is just… an expensive field, really. All the reagents have to be imported from Karaf, rare beast fur is sold at outrageous prices, and on top of that, the Academic Affairs Office has been pressuring me to increase the class size…”
“Answer.”
“About fifteen hundred Blanc gold…”
Corrigan squeezed her eyes shut.
She expected to be scolded immediately.
But the meeting room was dead silent, and when Corrigan cracked her eyes open, Professor Winslet was still as expressionless as ever.
Then he said something unbelievable.
“Take it.”
“…What?”
“I said take as much budget as you need.”
“H-Huh? Really?”
The most shocked person was Corrigan herself.
“Y-You’re not going to change your mind later or secretly get back at me, are you?”
“Quite bold. Asking that to my face.”
“Eek.”
Corrigan clapped both hands over her mouth as Winter Winslet turned his head away as if finished.
“Dean Kelly.”
“Y-Yes, go ahead.”
“Allocate carryover budget to the student meal event discussed earlier as well.”
“Is… is that alright?”
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
Having said that, Professor Winslet stood and left the meeting room.
The people left behind stared at one another, stunned.
They were all thinking the same thing.
‘Did that bastard eat something weird today?’
***
The moment I left the conference room, I practically fled.
And not figuratively—I was literally running.
Among the thirteen attendees of the faculty meeting was someone you absolutely did not want to run into at the academy.
Winter Winslet was a notorious tyrant of the academy.
But there wasn’t just one king here; even the great Winter Winslet had someone he’d rather avoid.
And that was…
Boom!
The wall in front of me shattered, revealing exactly that woman.
“Oh, missed a little. I was aiming to smash your head, not the wall.”
“…Monastrell.”
Tall enough to look me in the eye.
A beautiful woman with wild, hippie-like black hair and a sleek, predatory body.
Monastrell grinned at me.
“What, not surprised? Guess you knew I’d follow you.”
“You were radiating killing intent throughout the meeting. How could I not.”
“Yeah, that meeting! What the hell was that disgusting act? You, pretending to be nice? I almost puked. Ugh.”
She stuck out her tongue, miming retching.
Her yellow eyes gleamed like those of a crocodile.
“Did you come to pick a fight?”
“Winter Winslet, acting like he suddenly turned over a new leaf? You’re not really Winter Winslet, are you?”
Surely she was joking.
But feeling a pang of guilt, I couldn’t help blurting out an excuse.
“Humans can be fickle sometimes.”
“You know what they say—when someone does something out of character, it means they’re about to die.”
“What are you trying to say.”
“Why are you acting out of character? Makes me want to kill you.”
[Alert]
[This individual’s Death Flag has been activated.]
When a normal person says they want to kill you, it’s an exaggeration to express how angry they are.
But this woman was dead serious.
In Judgment of Candela, players had given her the unofficial nickname: The Academy’s Crazy Bitch.
And I’d pissed off the wrong lunatic.
Crack.
Hearing a grotesque sound, I turned to see Monastrell tearing off a chunk of the broken wall.
She smiled broadly and hurled the piece at me.
[Warning]
[A Death Branch has been updated.]
The fact that she’d smashed through a wall with her bare hands should have been warning enough, but this lunatic wasn’t human.
Actually, not even close to human.
A dragon polymorphed into a human.
She’d infiltrated the academy, posing as a professor, delighting in beating up students, and had a particular hatred for Winter Winslet.
Which was why I’d done my best to avoid her.
“If you hadn’t dodged that just now, I’d have let you go. But dodging means you want to fight, right?”
I didn’t know how her mind worked, but on my very first day, I was about to fight a dragon.
Not that there was any need to chicken out.
I was Winter Winslet, after all.
“Whoever let a wild beast loose on campus without a leash, biting people… such an animal needs training. Come.”
Monastrell’s smile deepened.
“Now that’s the Winter Winslet I know.”
[Casting Frost Carpet.]
[Casting Sail-Tearing Wind.]
First, I created distance.
I coated the floor in ice to make it slippery and pushed her back with wind.
Dragons were the ancestors of mages.
But from what I recalled from Judgment of Candela, Monastrell didn’t use magic.
If she revealed her power carelessly, it would interfere with her fun little games.
Instead, she preferred close combat, enjoying taking hits with that dragon-level durability and counterattacking.
In Defensive Magic lectures, she’d take spells head-on with a chilling smile, which was why everyone at the academy knew Monastrell was insane.
And now I had to deal with that.
[Casting Earthen Wall.]
I summoned a stone wall as she leapt at me.
Monastrell snorted derisively.
“You think this plank will stop me?”
Her fist shattered the solid rock plate easily.
Then she frowned.
“What the hell. Why is it so thin?”
Because I made it that way.
So it would break easily.
[Casting Minor Air Burst.]
Compressing air with Telekinesis and releasing it all at once.
Boom!
The shockwave shattered the stone wall, sending sharp shards flying like blades, slicing toward Monastrell.
A simple two-spell combo.
A classic move in Judgment of Candela.
Caught off guard, Monastrell took it head-on.
“Ha, that’s an interesting way to fight.”
And, of course, she was fine.
Aside from a few scratches on her crossed forearms, which were already healing, she looked as relaxed as ever.
But the twitching veins near her eyes told me she was pissed.
Monastrell brushed her hair back roughly and taunted.
“Go on, do it again.”
***
She asked for it, so I obliged.
Between Monastrell and me, for over ten minutes, there was nothing but one-sided attacks and one-sided defenses.
Using all my veteran tricks from Judgment of Candela, a flurry of varied spells kept Monastrell from predicting my next move, and Winter Winslet’s “S-rank” “Mana” talent meant I could keep blasting hundreds of attack spells without tiring.
When she failed to get close after repeated attempts, Monastrell started to get annoyed.
“You sneaky bastard… Ugh!”
[Casting Suffocation Arrow.]
“Wait. Wait! Timeout, I said timeout!”
[Casting Icicle Barrage.]
“Just wait till I get my hands on you… Damn it!”
[Casting Ernback’s Lengthening Floor.]
Monastrell growled, yelled, even hopped in place, but all she proved was that she was full of energy; she posed no real threat to me.
Dragon or not, in human form, without using magic, she was just a tough punching bag.
“I thought you only used Ice Magic. Since when did you learn all these weird spells?”
[Casting Tauber’s Heavy Stare.]
As they say, the best cure for a mad dog is a stick.
Under the crushing weight of the pressure magic, Monastrell eventually dropped to all fours.
I wasn’t particularly sadistic, but seeing her groan in frustration gave me a satisfying rush.
But then Monastrell got her chance.
Not because I let my guard down.
Because of an unexpected variable.
The noise had drawn spectators, and one man stepped between us.
He didn’t try to stop the fight with strength or words.
He just shouted:
“Oh no, my classroom!”
He must have been the owner of the lecture hall we’d trashed.
Thanks to this unwelcome interruption, I stopped the spell I was about to cast, and Monastrell seized the moment.
Using the dumbfounded professor as a shield, she lunged at me.
[Casting Frost Carpet.]
[Casting Sail-Tearing Wind.]
I hastily tried to push her back again, but Monastrell dug her fingers into the floor, resisting the wind.
Splash!
The tiles cracked and shifted like puddles splashing under wheels on a rainy day.
And in the next breath, Monastrell was right in front of me.
She grabbed me by the collar.
“Any last words?”
Survival instincts surged.
I remembered that dragons were suckers for flattery, so I decided to compliment her looks.
“Your insides might be trash, but the outside is a masterpiece. Ever consider coming to my place? You’d make a perfect stuffed display.”
That’s when I realized a serious problem.
I might be possessing Winter Winslet’s body, but his way of talking wasn’t something I could control.
And that was a major issue.
A matter of survival, even.
[Warning]
[A Death Branch has been updated.]
“You son of a bitch. Die.”
Monastrell’s face twisted in rage.