Elika's attempt to corner him was completely within expectations, and Viktor realized it instantly. He had no intention of sitting still and letting her take shots at him.
Just then, the dismissal bell chimed. Viktor gave her a polite smile.
"If you have questions, we can discuss them next class."
He'd already finished the lecture, and his performance had been solid—flawless, even. There was no reason to let her stir up trouble at the very end.
But Elika had no plans to let him off. She pressed on relentlessly:
"As far as I know, professors are obligated to answer student questions."
She paused, then added with a sweet but poisonous smile, "Of course, if your title of 'professor' is just for show—nothing but gilded fluff—you don't have to answer me."
Her aggressive provocation didn't irritate the crowd. On the contrary, the students grew more excited, eager to see how Viktor—a man rumored to have flirted with a minor—would respond to the beautiful prodigy confronting him.
After all, everyone here knew the gossip.
Everyone also knew the history between them.
Naturally, they were thrilled to get front-row seats to the drama. Who knew—maybe tomorrow's headlines would write themselves.
Viktor had no intention of letting these vultures get their wish. He refused to become the Academy's—much less society's—next laughingstock.
But he also refused to let Elika humiliate him in front of so many people.
At least, not without giving her a little lesson in return.
Viktor met her challenge head-on. His expression darkened as he tapped the desk in front of him, speaking each word with cold precision:
"This is my classroom. My rules. What I say goes."
"And if you think you can use the authority of 'professor' to morally blackmail me, do yourself a favor and give up now."
He lifted his head. His gaze was frigid, brimming with disdain.
"I refuse to answer your question."
He finished speaking and turned to leave.
But the moment he lifted his foot—
The world blurred.
A crackle of blue lightning danced across the air. In the blink of an eye, he found himself back at the lectern.
Viktor steadied himself and stared at the faintly glowing blue array at his feet.
"A teleportation array…"
"So she laid this at the door."
Elika's proud, mocking expression locked onto him, as though waiting for him to panic—waiting to savor that moment of embarrassment.
She tilted her chin. "That's my question."
"If Professor Viktor can't answer it, you won't be leaving."
Gasps erupted around the room.
"Holy shit—"
"That's teleportation magic!?"
"The Royal Academy's genius student actually planted a teleportation array without anyone noticing?"
"Tier Two mages are THIS strong?"
"She set up teleportation magic mid-class? That's insane!"
"Her mastery is terrifying!"
Viktor didn't answer earlier for one reason—he had inherited Viktor's level and magic power, but not Viktor's knowledge.
He knew how to cast.
He did not know the theory behind the spells.
Much like someone who knows how to flick a lighter but has no idea how the lighter works.
Unfortunately, Elika had hit the one point he couldn't defend.
Just then, Vega's voice echoed through his mind:
"Do exactly what I tell you."
Viktor inhaled. Power surged through him as confidence flooded back. His lips curved.
"Very well," he said lightly. "Let's have another lesson."
He pointed at the array on the floor, addressing Elika below.
"To break this teleportation formation, you only need to disrupt the tiny energy links between the sub-arrays. It's very simple."
He extended a finger and flicked out a string of runes. The glowing symbols shot into the array's core, threads of light branching outward into the smaller nodes.
At once, the formation flickered and destabilized, its glow fading to ash.
Elika's face stiffened. Beads of sweat formed along her brow.
She could feel it—her link to the array was weakening. No matter how much mana she poured in, she couldn't stop it from collapsing.
And then—nothing.
The connection broke entirely.
Viktor snapped his fingers.
A hair clip flew off Elika's head and landed neatly in his hand.
"Borrowing this."
Elika stared blankly at the empty space where her hair clip had been.
Her own teleportation magic had just been used against her.
The rest of the students craned their necks, captivated. The dimmed teleportation array suddenly reignited under Viktor's control.
He teleported a flowerpot from the window to the lectern.
Then he shifted a wall clock from the wall to the ceiling.
Then he swapped two students' desks just to show he could.
Inside this room, he moved objects as if the entire space were his personal toy box.
Finally, he teleported Elika herself—lifting her from the front row and dropping her neatly into a seat in the back.
Viktor decided that was enough. He drew another rune, made a few adjustments, and restored the formation to its original state.
He placed her hair clip gently on the lectern.
"All right. Try activating it again."
Elika glared at him, eyes full of wounded pride. She tried to trigger the array—
Her hair clip vanished.
It did not reappear in her hand.
And it did not appear in Viktor's.
Viktor's face remained stoic.
"Congratulations. Your hair clip has been teleported to another dimension."
Elika froze.
No matter how she manipulated the array, the clip never came back.
Viktor wasn't finished. He calmly continued:
"There's another way to deal with this type of formation."
He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
Mage Hand flared to life—splitting into six luminous streams. Six magic arrays bloomed in midair.
The students erupted.
"Multi-casting? Sixfold?"
"That's impossible!"
"Nothing's impossible! He's a Tier Three mage!"
"This genius professor versus the genius student—this is insane!"
Viktor ignored the praise. He pointed to the air, voice cool.
"You can also just suppress it directly."
The six arrays activated simultaneously.
Boom.
Under overwhelming magical pressure, the teleportation formation cracked—then shattered completely.
Elika's hair clip was gone forever.
She bowed her head, trembling ever so slightly.
No one could read her expression.
Viktor gave a small, pleasant smile and turned to leave.
"Elika, remember this. That was your answer—and a tiny bit of a lesson."
"Class is over. Your teacher is busy and likes to dismiss on time."
He didn't care what storm would follow. He walked out of the classroom without looking back.
The moment he stepped into the hall, the room behind him exploded into wild chatter.
But that was no longer his concern.
…
Viktor returned to his office and passed the time until the final bell rang. Thinking of the library, he decided to pay it a visit.
He teleported from the Mage Tower straight to the library entrance. The scene matched his memories from the game perfectly.
He grabbed a random book from the shelf and flipped it open.
A prompt flashed before his eyes:
[Learn Tier One Spell: Rolling Fireball?]
[Materials required: Flameflower, Harpy Feather]
This was why Viktor had bought so many crafting materials. They weren't just used to make items—they could also be consumed here to learn magic.
Learning magic cost money, yes.
But Viktor was a lord. Rich to the point of absurdity. He didn't care.
This was an exploit the game had never intended.
Normally, players had to hunt neutral monsters in the wild to gather these materials.
But Viktor could simply buy them in bulk from shops.
Since it was still early, he spent the entire afternoon grinding spells—learning nearly every Tier One spell available on the first floor.
By the time he finished, his materials were depleted and more than half his gold was gone.
But he had learned everything he could.
Evening sunlight poured into the library, staining the floor gold.
Just as the sky darkened, a strange glow flickered deeper inside.
So someone else was here "studying," too.
Curious, Viktor followed the light silently—
And paused.
"Henny?"
His teaching assistant sat at a desk, scribbling furiously with a pen. He could even hear her muttering under her breath:
"Tomorrow… Professor Viktor can teach using this research topic…"