Roxy’s initial teaching wasn’t anything special.
After all, she was starting from basic beginner magic.
She had even prepared herself for the three kids to fall asleep in front of her—but with Gawain’s presence, their attitude was surprisingly serious, which pleased her greatly.
After the first day of class, the adorable green-haired Sylphiette even pulled Roxy aside and apologized on Gawain’s behalf.
Her apology was smooth—clearly something taught in advance by her parents.
“Sorry, Teacher Roxy.
My brother always acts like he’s above everything, but he’s not a bad person—just a bit slow emotionally and overly rational.”
“I’m sorry he keeps upsetting you.”
“And thank you for staying.
He really needs your help.”
Roxy had already seen that Sylphiette was a very, very good girl—but the contrast between the siblings still surprised her.
Yet the more satisfied she felt during the day—
The more anxious she became at night.
Back at the Greyrat household, even Paul and Zenith’s… enthusiastic interactions made her want to kick the door open and tell them to tone it down.
She couldn’t feel anything romantic about it—just irritation.
To be honest, perhaps because of her restless mind, her monthly cycle was delayed, and her sleep quality worsened.
Even in her dreams, she kept thinking, failing, struggling.
Originally, she had planned to hold night classes—teaching miscellaneous knowledge unrelated to magic.
She was confident in that area, having traveled most of the world except for Heaven Continent and Begaritt Continent.
That plan was now shelved.
Her excuse: “Morning and afternoon classes are enough.
The children need rest at night for proper growth.”
The real reason:
She needed time to solve the six pages of problems in her notebook.
Progress?
Miserable.
Practically nonexistent.
She didn’t even have the environment to conduct experiments—only paper-based logic and calculations.
But magic research couldn’t advance through pure theory alone.
At least, not at her level.
She was completely stuck.
Fortunately, daytime lessons were still at the beginner level, and even Gawain, who loved picking faults, rarely challenged her there.
But what happens next?
At this pace, within three months, she would run out of options.
Not only would she have to teach more difficult intermediate magic, she would also have to face the unresolved problems in her notes.
I want to run away.
But she couldn’t.
If someone like Gawain acknowledged her, then she had to prove herself worthy of that acknowledgment—no, exceed it.
Sorry… “one hundred times.”
No—sorry, Rudeus.
That boy had been trying so hard—maintaining the atmosphere, helping her integrate, even defending her from Gawain’s bluntness.
Maybe it was for Gawain’s sake—but he had helped her.
Yet she hadn’t returned that kindness.
Instead, back at the Greyrat house, she kept venting her frustration—toward Rudeus, instead of Gawain or herself.
But he was innocent, wasn’t he?
And now even his parents thought he lacked respect for his teacher.
What a terrible teacher I am…
Not only incompetent—but lacking in character.
So, Roxy began forcing herself to argue with Gawain.
Even when she didn’t have strong reasoning, she let her emotions drive her to attack him.
As long as she did this, Roxy felt that her anxiety eased somewhat.
When she returned at night, she no longer dragged Rudeus into her turmoil, and even amid the lady’s soft gasps, she was finally able to think calmly and continue her work.
She understood—this too was a form of escape.
Gawain had no reason to bear her negative emotions.
Even if those emotions were indeed related to him, at their core, they were nothing more than the result of her own stubbornness, her bluffing and overreaching.
—She simply didn’t have the ability to meet Gawain’s expectations.
Whenever that truth surfaced in her mind, it felt as though it would tear her apart.
It hurt.
She couldn’t breathe.
But if she immediately countered it with another thought—why should I meet Gawain’s expectations?
What right does he have to evaluate and expect things from me?—
The bitterness in her heart would ease somewhat.
“…But the one who felt happy being acknowledged by Gawain is me.
The one who wants to prove I can meet his expectations is also me.”
Because Gawain is capable.
Because Gawain is not like Professor Jinas, nor like Teacher Kande who wrote Travels Across the World.
If I can meet Gawain’s expectations… if I can gain his recognition… perhaps I, too, will become different.
Even without wrapping myself in the title of “genius,” I could finally feel at ease.
Yes.
Here, where they tore apart my pride and arrogance, I must also obtain something new—something that allows me to stand and keep walking.
It’s fine if I’m not a genius.
It’s fine if I’m not the most capable one.
I want to become someone who can accept that reality.
But as she continued directing her attacks at Gawain, Roxy gradually realized something was wrong.
At first, she became more and more unrestrained—worse than when she had treated Rudeus at her worst.
Rather than revealing her true nature, it was more accurate to say she had become malicious, vicious.
Gawain was like a perfect target.
No matter how she attacked him, he showed no sign of being hurt, no change, no reaction, no retaliation—a completely indestructible puppet.
He only ever cared about what he cared about.
Always so self-centered.
So, infuriating.
The kind of person who, once you understood his nature, made you want to lash out at him endlessly.
Until one time, while Gawain was practicing, he stood beside her.
So short.
Even shorter than her—a woman who had stopped growing after fourteen—by more than a head.
Probably not even 120 cm tall.
He really was just a child.
Not even five years old.
Only then did Roxy truly realize that undeniable fact.
And she herself… had been speaking harshly to a child like this?
She almost came to hate herself for it.
When dealing with Rudeus, she had at least tried to find proper reasons, to maintain the dignity of a teacher.
But when it came to Gawain—the one she had labeled the “culprit”—had she ever tried to restrain her malice?
Not even once.
It was also at that moment that Roxy realized for the first time:
Gawain had never cared about her hostility.
To be honest, though it was embarrassing, Roxy immediately felt relieved—as if she had been forgiven, or redeemed.
Even though she didn’t dare to consider—was Gawain suppressing his pain?
Was he forcing himself to remain rational?
How much harm had she caused this child?
After that, Roxy’s emotions returned to normal.
She still occasionally bickered with Gawain or Rudeus, but it had returned to a reasonable range.
She no longer felt anxious.
Every night, she quietly studied, calculated, and thought.
Though her cycle and libido still hadn’t returned, at least she could finally rest properly.
However, Rudeus still went out of his way to avoid her in private.
Which made the incompetent little teacher feel guilty.
“If I run out of options, then I run out of options.
If I still can’t produce a satisfactory answer by then, I’ll just accept that this is all I am.”
Because she didn’t want to hurt others for the sake of pride or self-justification, Roxy forced herself to accept failure.
Giving up was also a choice.
She felt that perhaps… the end of her journey was approaching.
After all, she was the kind of fool who couldn’t move forward without something to rely on.
Note: Teacher Kande, who wrote Travels Across the World, was a traveling writer and magician who visited Migurd Village when Roxy was thirteen.
He taught her beginner-level water magic and told her stories of the outside world.
Roxy’s triangular hat was also a gift from him when they met again.