Serenth Elowen.
The 10th Archmage of Eridane. The 5th Headmaster of the Imperial High Institution of Knowledge.
A legendary figure known throughout Virelya not just for his strength, but for the sheer absurdity of his presence.
He had long, silvery-white hair and serene, deep emerald eyes that shimmered with wisdom. His age? Completely unknown. But everyone agreed he was easily a few centuries old.
He wore an elegant white robe with golden and emerald trimmings, looking every bit the part of a venerable sage. A man of deep knowledge. A profound thinker. Calm, placid, and composed.
But—
He was also the single most unhinged prankster in the entire continent.
No one—literally no one—was safe from his nonsense. Once, he "welcomed" a new female professor by gifting her a beautifully wrapped box filled with 〘Radial Burst〙 Nodes—high-tier explosion spells.
The moment she opened it?
Boom!
She was literally blasted through a wall—He didn't pull his punches.
Complaints had poured in. Parents, students, staff, other professors, visiting mages from across the continent—they all begged him to stop.
But Serenth? He just smiled and went on with his life like nothing happened. After all, what could they do? Complain? Please. That was like trying to tickle a dragon into submission.
And that very bastard—no, headmaster—was sitting right in front of me.
Reclined in a regal, emerald-cushioned chair behind a polished mahogany desk, covered in books, maps, crystals, and a gleaming globe. His fingers were folded beneath his chin, and he wore a sincere expression so out of place, it immediately set off alarm bells in my head.
I stood across from him, back straight, hands clasped behind me.
"Sir," I said with as much restraint as possible, "you mentioned having urgent information to relay… privately. I have classes starting soon, so if you don't mind—could you please make it quick?"
'Let me go. For the love of mana, let me go before you drag me into whatever nonsense you've cooked up.'
He sighed dramatically and rose from his seat, strolling toward me like a patient parent dealing with a petulant child.
Then he gently tapped my shoulder and said in mock disappointment,
"My dear disciple Riven… just because you're a professor now doesn't mean you get to speak to your teacher like that. Tsk, tsk. Kids these days have no respect."
I forced a smile and gave a shallow bow. "Sir, if I may clarify—I was your assistant, not your disciple. You never taught me a damn thing. You just made me do your paperwork and carry your lunchboxes. I still carry emotional scars. If I ever get the chance, I will throw you off a cliff."
He let out a boisterous laugh, slapping his thigh. "Ahahahaha! That's the spirit! This is why I like you, Riven—you don't fear me at all! Everyone else in this place wets themselves just making eye contact. It really kills the mood when I prank them."
I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head, suspicious.
"…Don't tell me you're planning something again. Because if you are, and if I so much as catch you trying to use me for your antics, I will start treating you like those 'fools' you mentioned. And I doubt you'll enjoy that one bit."
His smile vanished into thin air. With a click of his tongue, he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. You need to lose something to gain something. I'd rather leave you out of my pranks than turn you into a husk like the others."
I smiled dryly. "I really appreciate that you sometimes keep your promises."
He laughed boisterously. "Who do you think I am? What would I be if I didn't keep my word?"
'Suspicious as hell… he is definitely cooking something diabolical. I should be on my guard.'
Whenever he was this happy, it usually meant he'd done something outrageous. I didn't trust him. Not one bit.
As if sensing my thoughts, he suddenly jabbed a finger at my face. "Why are you looking at me like that? I'm not suspicious, okay? You can definitely trust this young man!"
'He definitely did something!!'
I coughed, hiding my growing irritation behind a professional tone. "Sir, about the information you said was urgent?"
"Ah! Yes… that," he muttered, suddenly contemplative. He plopped his chin on his hand, arm crossed under the other.
'By any chance… did he forget?'
It looked increasingly likely. And that was starting to irritate me.
Then suddenly—
"Aha!" He struck a dramatic pose, his finger shooting skyward. "The information I wanted to share relates to your well-being!"
I blinked. "My… well-being?"
He nodded furiously, his white hair bouncing as he bobbed his head. "Yes! As you know, you're the youngest professor ever accepted at IHIK. Which means you also have the highest potential to become an Archmage in the near future. You're smart enough to know what that implies, right?"
I was made a professor not because of noble status, but because of my unusual strength—a 4th Circle mage at 21.
Yes, by all definitions, I had potential. But potential didn't guarantee permanence.
Unlike those naturally gifted with mana affinity, my path was carved from obsession, not talent. If I ever stopped pushing, I'd plateau. That wasn't a theory—it was a certainty.
And once I did plateau, all those eager noble houses waiting to recruit me would toss me aside.
Or worse kill me.
Serenth knew this. More than anyone, he understood what would happen if I aligned myself with powerful factions and failed to meet their expectations.
I lowered my gaze, my thoughts spiraling. 'I only ever wanted to become a professor. That was my dream. I never asked for fame, recognition, or power plays. I just want peace. I want to leave that obsessed version of me behind…'
Suddenly, I felt a hand gently ruffle my hair.
I looked up.
Serenth stood beside me, his expression soft, warm. For once, there was no mischief—only sincerity.
"I know what you desire, child," he said gently. "And I'll do everything in my power to help you reach it. I called you here just to remind you to stay alert. If they can't use you… they'll try to remove you. So stay sharp and be ready."
I didn't say anything. I just gave a small, silent nod.
Then—unexpectedly—he pulled me into a hug.
"We spent a year together," he murmured. "Even if I never taught you anything… even if you insist you weren't my disciple… I still see you as one. As a student. As a child. I don't know what haunts you—but I know you're broken in ways you don't talk about. I hope you find healing while chasing your goal. I hope this life gives you peace."
He patted my back once before stepping away.
I returned the hug, voice low and steady.
"I promise… I'll try. I really promise."
…
I stepped out of Sir Serenth's office, still a little dazed from our talk. The emotional whiplash had nearly made me forget something extremely important.
Then it hit me.
"Shit!"
I spun back around and banged on his door. "Sir! You still haven't told me about my class or my faculty room! Sir!!"
Instead of a response, a blinding flash of light burst from the door's surface. It shimmered briefly, then morphed into glowing text.
"Sorry, I don't know anything about that… bye ;)"
My eye twitched.
'Motherfuc—'
BAM!
I slammed my fist into the enchanted door. A faint crack spiderwebbed across its polished surface. I glared at it, fuming.
Taking a sharp breath, I turned on my feet.
If that lunatic wouldn't give me answers, I'd go to someone who actually had a functioning brain cell. Fortunately, there was one person I knew I could trust—my real teacher.
Halbrecht Vonn.
Professor of Elemental Studies and Combat Magic. A specialist in Fire and Metal, and more importantly, a no-nonsense, principled man.
His office was on the fifth floor of the tower, right next to the second-year classrooms. I made my way there quickly, my footsteps echoing in the spiraling stone halls.
When I reached the door, I knocked twice.
Knock. Knock.
A calm voice responded, "Yes, you may enter."
I pushed the door open and peeked inside. He was standing beside his desk, flipping through a stack of papers with a deep frown etched on his brow.
"Long time no see, sir," I said with a slight grin, rubbing my hands together. "Do you remember your student?"
He looked up slowly, locking eyes with mine. A moment passed—then his stern face softened into a warm smile.
"Riven," he said, walking over and placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "Just last year, you were an assistant. Now, you're standing here as a full-fledged professor—equal in rank to me. Congratulations."
I chuckled, looking away modestly. "Thank you, sir. Though to be honest, it doesn't feel like I'm your equal. Especially not when I'm still being dragged around by Sir Serenth's shenanigans."
He raised a brow. "Let me guess—he didn't tell you a damn thing about your faculty or classroom?"
I nodded, exasperated. "Nothing. Just sent me off with a wink."
Halbrecht sighed. "Typical. Well, don't worry. I've got the information."
He returned to his desk and rifled through a side drawer before pulling out a parchment. "You're assigned to Combat Magic and Elemental Studies, naturally. There's no fixed element—you're free to focus on any you prefer. They're counting on your versatility."
I nodded in agreement. That much made sense.
Then he glanced at me with a curious look. "And your class... is Class F. First-year students. Second floor. Room 4. And your office is adjacent to it."
My brow twitched.
Class F.
The name echoed ominously in my mind.
Halbrecht's lips curled slightly. "Yes… the class of misfits."
Everything clicked into place. 'Serenth… you bastard!!'
This was the prank.
I sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Of course he gave me the bottom-tier class."
Halbrecht laughed. "Don't be too quick to judge. That class may not have the best reputation, but sometimes the roughest stones polish into the sharpest blades."
I wasn't so sure. But one thing was certain—I had work to do.
"Thanks for the help, sir," I said with a genuine smile.
"Anytime, Riven. And… good luck. You're going to need it."