I am a traditional magician!
After listening to Gawain ramble on endlessly—like an overbearing housewife—listing problem after problem, filling six full pages just from taking notes, Roxy finally gave up and mentally lay flat.
Traditional—what’s wrong with being traditional?
Roxy decided that magicians like herself—excellent graduates of Ranoa Magic Academy with rational, research-oriented thinking—would henceforth be classified as “traditional magicians.”
As for everyone else?
Sorry—you’re primitive magicians.
If Rudeus knew what Roxy was thinking right now, he’d probably complain: “So that’s like classical mechanics, modern physics, and illiterates, huh?”
Looking at the notes she had written with her own hand, Roxy let out a long breath.
Though she didn’t quite want to admit it, she felt much better now.
What she couldn’t accept was being looked down on without reason—
Whether it was discrimination against her race, her petite appearance, or someone like Professor Jinas envying her talent.
But being called a “traditional magician” by Gawain… that, she could accept.
After all, it was backed by reason.
She really was far behind—and he really did have the right to say it.
At most, there was just a tiny… tiny bit of unwillingness.
Just a little.
The results she had worked so hard for felt like ice in winter—still there, but devalued.
Had Professor Jinas felt the same way when he read her thesis?
That thesis she wrote to refute his famous work.
Her so-called “masterpiece.”
It was the same—her achievements being diminished.
And only now did she realize…
Feeling angry, wanting to argue, refusing to accept it—that was only natural.
If she could, she’d smash her notebook into that expressionless brat’s face right now.
The only reason she didn’t was because it would just make her look like a clown.
Not because she was more rational than Professor Jinas.
…I probably really was wrong back then.
Or maybe not wrong—but if I had calmed down and talked it through… at least said goodbye…
Her thoughts were a mess.
But after a pause, Roxy closed her notebook and said:
“I understand.”
In truth, she had already considered each point while Gawain was speaking.
But the conclusions she reached… she wasn’t ready to say them out loud yet.
Simply put—
Of the six pages of criticisms, about half had already been practically disproven by Gawain.
The other half at least sounded highly reasonable.
Yet within Ranoa Magic Academy, only a small portion—barely over twenty percent—had been identified and resolved.
Another ten percent remained unresolved.
The remaining sixty-plus percent were still being taught as correct.
Not to mention foundational theories like “mana is fixed for life.”
She couldn’t help but feel ashamed.
Roxy decided that in her spare time, she would do everything she could to tackle the problems in her notebook—finding correct answers, or at least the right direction.
She still couldn’t bring herself to admit that the knowledge she could teach wasn’t much better.
Gawain had acknowledged her ability.
Then she would prove it—with results.
I am the genius magician, Roxy Migurdia!
Seeing that his designated tutor-cum-research assistant seemed to be on track (Rudeus: She’s completely gone off track!), Gawain continued:
“Next, I’ll explain our current findings, research progress, and the terminology and measurement units we’ve established.”
“First, as proposed by Rudeus, we define the mana cost of the lowest-consumption chant-cast spell in all systems—[Water Ball]—as [1 standard unit].”
Gawain, who was usually quiet, launched into another long explanation.
Roxy refused to be outdone, rapidly taking notes, constantly raising her hand to question or challenge him.
The two quickly fell into a rhythm of discussion and debate.
Sylphiette sat beside her brother, listening attentively, happily swinging her legs—clearly pleased that Rudeus was being ignored for once.
Rudeus, meanwhile, wanted to bury his face in his hands.
Hey, hey, Big Brother Gawain… she’s the teacher we’re paying, right?
Why are YOU the one teaching her?!
And Roxy—you useless blue middle-schooler!
By the time “Teacher Gawain” finished his lecture, the sun was already high overhead.
Fortunately, it was still early spring, so it wasn’t too hot.
Gawain concluded:
“It’s about time for lunch.”
Sylphiette, who had been waiting eagerly, presented Debbie’s latest creation:
“Ta-da!”
She lifted the white cloth, revealing six sandwiches underneath.
If she knew this method had originally been “invented” by Rudeus, she probably wouldn’t be this happy.
Roxy blinked in surprise:
“What is this?”
Rudeus smiled and explained:
“Just ordinary sandwiches.
You could say… it’s a local specialty of our village?”
Sylphiette puffed her cheeks and glared at him for stealing her line, then diligently handed them out.
Each sandwich was wrapped at one corner with medicinal paper, so they wouldn’t dirty their hands.
Of course, due to limited ingredients, the bread wasn’t the soft white toast of Rudeus’s previous life—but it wasn’t crude either.
Inside were fresh greens, tomato slices, thick cuts of lightly cured pork belly, whole buffalo cheese, and a local fermented sauce that added a slight spiciness.
Roxy took a bite—
Her eyes lit up instantly.
Even as a sweets lover, she was completely won over.
In the end, with floral tea on the side, she ate two sandwiches.
Rudeus finished exactly one.
Sylphiette didn’t even finish hers—Gawain took care of the leftovers… along with two whole ones.
After eating and drinking their fill, Roxy regained some energy and declared enthusiastically:
“Alright!
Next, it’s my turn to teach the first lesson!”
But Gawain simply raised a hand:
“No.
Next is lunch break.”
Then, right before her eyes, Gawain used magic to create two stone recliners.
Sylphiette obediently followed along, snuggling into his arms and falling asleep for a nap.
Damn it… even eating lunch on time was for his sister’s sake, wasn’t it?
Could you show that kind of humanity to others too?!
Rudeus, ever perceptive, looked at the clearly sulking Roxy and decided not to leave her out:
“Teacher Roxy, I can make you a recliner too.
Where would you like it?
Do you need shade?”
“No need!”
…And then she fell asleep on her notebook.
Drooling.