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“I’m done with managing democratic conflicts like lawsuits, accusations, settlements, and protest gaps! Just throw it all away!”

The warlords settled their disputes like real men, practicing the ‘Mauritania Continent style of problem-solving’ through reconciliation, friendship, and forgiveness.

That meant sending lovely gifts like a neatly severed arm of a dear nephew!

Sure, the nephew might have died from shock in the process, but that’s fine. The brother of Sheikh Bint Al Asen, the leader of the Asen Tribe (the deceased nephew’s father), had three wives and eleven children!

One can always have more!

(Astonishingly, this is the average ‘common sense’ shared by the locals of the Mauritania Continent. Not a joke; it’s true. You can always make more children—after all, in a place where magic and electricity are unreliable, when the lights go out at night, the only thing to do is find something to do with your belly button.)

Anyway.

As the ceasefire between the Asen and Sanya warlords was signed, Colonel Frederick was pondering whether he should return to the Duke.

At that moment, Saint Lucia, who didn’t want to return to the human-modifying furnace, came up with a brilliant idea.

“Let’s go hunt humans.”

Now that was quite a shocking proposal!

—

Side Episode – “The Master is Very Disappointed with You”

“Um, Lucia?”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean by ‘hunting humans’?”

Camila’s expression resembled that of someone witnessing a horrific slave auction. Francesca and Akande shared the same look in their eyes, akin to seeing a pleasure killer.

Lucia, realizing her awkward phrasing had been noted, hurriedly clarified.

“Oh.”

I must have misspoken. Even in a rush, that was a bit too much to skip over. (No criminal would come up with a phrase like ‘hunting humans,’ after all!)

Flustered, she tacked on a hasty explanation.

“Not like that…”

After some rambling, Lucia’s actual points boiled down to the following:

1. We haven’t finished our training, and Duke Alexandra Petrovna will undoubtedly summon us ‘sometime’ ‘for sure’.

2. Considering the Duke’s character, abilities, power, and the gap between us, the Duke is akin to ‘an unavoidable disaster.’

3. However, there is ‘a method’—an excuse and a shield to delay the Duke’s summons. That is…

“Arresting wizards and shamans who commit crimes.”

“Are you suggesting we capture exiles and necromancers?”

“Yes.”

The Saint of the Cult nodded vigorously. The Alchemist from the Magic Tower began to murmur with squinty eyes.

“Indeed… Grandmother did set a deadline. When there are no busy matters, we are to return.”

“That’s the only condition the Duke has set for us, and it’s our only card to play.”

As a side note, they currently had no ongoing tasks. Either they had taken down all the weapons dealers or there were none left to catch.

Rather than being captured by the Duke, wouldn’t it be a hundred times better to team up with a gang?

However, the effort they put in left no criminals to catch.

With no criminals left to apprehend, that meant it was just as if they had no work to do. Which meant they couldn’t delay the promised ‘return’ to the Duke any longer.

That’s why Camila, Lucia, Francesca, and Akande (who simply came for a snack) were huddled together in the Peacekeeping Force break room, racking their brains.

Akande, his expression sulky, quivered his lips.

“Bad person. No left. Foreign. Cannot go out. Silver-haired woman blocked.”

Of course, they still had the choice to go on an ‘overseas expedition’ (not a crusade) to hunt down fresh criminals. Unfortunately, the Duke seemed to view this as ‘overseas fleeing.’

If they stepped even a single foot outside the Jamria Federation, he would come after them with a grudge (for the record, Colonel Frederick was exempt from this). The Grand Archmage’s orders overruled even the law—after all, it’s a world where might is right.

But who are they? A bunch of reckless fools, perfectly chaotic!

Not grasping their Master’s (not) profound intentions, they hatched petty schemes, plotting ways to escape—how undignified (three of them are women)!

And rising saint of the Cult (lucky Saint Veronica) advised them.

“If there are no criminals, let’s make some… we shouldn’t, but let’s find new types of criminals.”

In other words!

“So, if we have nothing to do, we just make it happen?”

“Yes.”

If they have nothing to do, they make it happen!

An approach so mind-bogglingly military that it made one wonder if they couldn’t stand the sight of idle hands making needless administrative work.

If Colonel Frederick (the second round in military service) were present, he would have shouted, ‘Halt!’ in sheer indignation at the refreshing yet beautiful problem-solving approach.

As Lucia nodded in response to Camila’s question, Francesca fell deep into thought.

“Hmmm…”

The intellect recognized by the magical society quickly began to calculate. Was the Saint’s idea truly logical?

“Exiles and necromancers are those who have broken the law and regulations. The regulations are the core of magic, and the law is the community’s fence. Both were born alongside the founding of the Magic Tower…. And those who made the laws were the great wizards. I heard Grandmother was partly involved too.”

To be precise, the regulations were made by the fellow Grand Wizards, and the criminal and civil laws were enacted with advice from the imperial legal community.

(This was the reason why her blood pressure shot up every time her disciple made headlines as an arsonist.)

Camila, who had been listening, chimed in.

“There’s a justification, then. The professor was involved in the enactment.”

They planned to go and catch the lawbreakers of the very laws and regulations they created—what could anyone say?

At that moment.

“I’m curious. Where can we find these criminal mages?”

Unthinkingly munching on snacks, Akande had suddenly engaged in a productive activity (a question). So how do they find criminals?

As a side point, Akande was only thinking about fighting. Even if the Duke said, ‘I’ve taught you all. Go back.’ and wouldn’t let him come back, he was the type to offer all sorts of excuses to return.

All eyes turned to Lucia, as she was the one who had brought it up, wondering if she had some countermeasures in place.

Sure enough, the Saint had even drawn up a treasure map.

“Here it is.”

Upon confirming the treasure map, Camila quickly dialed a phone.

-‘Who is it?’

“Frederick? Are you interested in a manhunt by any chance?”

-‘…What weird thing are you talking about now?’

With infinite vacation days, the moment when human hunting beyond the horizon began had arrived!

—

A notorious water seller from the gang ruling Lensokashi soared through the air nearly 17 meters. He was known for the water “GHB” and infamous for slicing people with high-pressure water sprays, a renowned Gang wizard.

A militia near Malunga dove into the waterfall like the Three Thousand Palace Ladies. Although claiming to be a “self-defense squad,” he was, in fact, a foreign mercenary wizard wanted for ten charges, including cash transport heists and illegal mining occupations.

Vessels ferrying goods between the western jungle of Nueho and border areas were sunk. Floating on contraband, druids riding dolphins pursued rapidly while brandishing maces and magical tools.

In the nameless forest of Yambowej, intense battles were underway.

Searing flames flowed through the deep valley, human trafficking bases blazed, and a necromancer hiding in the jungle found himself surrounded.

“Damn it!”

Heat was squeezing moisture from his body as the flustered necromancer cursed.

In the distance, voices rang out.

“Over there!”

“Fire! Shoot to kill!”

The Border Patrol of the Federation, with their hats tipped towards the thick jungle, readied their rifles. Tu-du-du-du! The squatted necromancer gritted his teeth and crawled toward the corpse.

“Come out.”

Crack. A sinister black hand clawed into the corpse. The necromancer squeezed the organs tightly and pulled them out from the corpse using every ounce of strength.

The discarded organs began to squirm as if they had their own will or commands, launching themselves at the border guards.

“Gotcha!”

Time was bought. He quickly got up and started moving. He had to escape the jungle. How the government found them, he didn’t know. For now, he’d just think about crossing the border—

Just as he was plotting his escape.

“Greetings!”

From the thick brush emerged a thunderous naked man. Not a metaphor, but literally a beefy guy with no clothes, covered in tattoos.

The unexpected aura of this man left the necromancer speechless, blinking in disbelief.

“…? Who are you…?”

“Strong and powerful morning, if you ask me, I’m Akande! You fight me!”

“What language is that…?”

Without asking or waiting for an answer, a fist flew his way. It was just a blunt ‘shut up and take this’ punch.

Bam! Bam!

Teeth danced, and blood dripped. The necromancer, grabbed by the collar, felt dizzy from Akande’s merciless punches.

“Hahaha!”

“Ugh! Urgh!”

As Akande continued his merry walloping, he released his grip and delivered a punch the size of a pot to the necromancer’s abdomen.

In an instant, the tattoo on his forearm sparkled, and the necromancer’s body flew some distance away.

Not just flying away but crashing through a tree.

“Aaaahhh!”

The joyful scream echoed throughout the jungle as the necromancer’s body suddenly froze, enveloped in magical energy.

“C-could it be…?”

Beyond his blurred vision, he saw a barrier of the Protection School stretching out, and approaching at a rapid speed,

…a mace?

“Blegh!”

The necromancer, hit by the mace, embedded into the ground. A woman who leaped over a mossy boulder smiled at the scene.

“I finally found you, Brother! I’ve missed you so much!”

“…?”

A question mark appeared above the necromancer’s head. Did he know this person? But had no clue who they were.

The woman, having rushed toward him, extended a hand. Thinking she was there to help, just as the necromancer began to flail.

Smack! She grabbed the mace.

With a swift, sporty manner, Lucia swung the mace and shouted.

“So long, Brother!”

Thus began the merciless, one-sided, and violent onslaught.

Lucia swung the mace with both hands, and the necromancer was hit all over: belly, chest, side, and limbs.

“Ahhh! Urrgh! Ahhh!”

“Be a good little boy and lie down!”

Amidst the sounds of anguish, as the earth and trees danced, the wild Akande appeared.

He glanced around and spotted the necromancer getting beaten up by Lucia and chuckled.

“Found you! Finally met! I’ll join in too!”

“Ughh….”

Lucia and Akande surrounded the necromancer, punching in synchronization. Then Francesca joined in.

She caught the necromancer, whose stomach was sent flying into orbit, and without being called, ran over and started beating him up.

“Found you!”

“…Who are you, ugh! Wait, ugh!”

Thus, the miracle of a 3-on-1 beatdown unfolded!

A term known as ‘group assault’, where one’s heart thrummed in distress as another party was subjected to relentless beatings.

It was blood-soaked chaos, with screams and howls continuously interchanging.

Of course, this narrative only pertained to the necromancer himself; in fact, the three who were pummeling him emerged unscathed.

“This guy’s sturdier than he looks!”

Francesca remarked, kicking him in the abdomen. The necromancer was literally bleeding from his mouth now.

“Very wicked! Truly horrifying! His appearance is quite fitting as well!”

Akande grimaced at the grotesque body before him, seemingly wiping away the memory of how he had been relentlessly pounding the necromancer’s face.

“Stop it! I said, stay down! Why do you keep trying to run away?!”

Lucia rained punches on the fleeing figure. If three were beating him to a pulp, then of course he should be trying to escape.

These antics surely confused not just the necromancer but also:

The Border Guards who had sprung the human trafficking raid thanks to Abas’ intel, and the Federation soldiers who had chased after the necromancer into the jungle.

“…….”

“…Captain.”

“…What is it.”

“Who are we supposed to arrest?”

The Federation captain couldn’t find an answer. To arrest someone, you needed to know who was good and who was bad, and this situation was a conundrum.

Even with a crowd encircling one victim, that could be categorized as a serious offense. Moreover, a walking human weapon, a nasty cudgel, was being mercilessly battered by magic.

“Are those folks connected to the necromancer…? What. A vendetta?”

“I can’t even tell….”

Given their aggressive onslaught against the necromancer, it raised questions of whether they were engaging in a personal vendetta.

With a situation like this, the Federation and Border Guards were puzzled whether to arrest the necromancer or even the three going wild. Yet the necromancer….

“Teachers! Take me! Hurry!”

Wishing for nothing but to be captured (he could die if he wasn’t caught), only to be stripped of that chance.

Yet, what kind of country was the Jamria Federation? Accusations, corruption, and self-preservation oozed from its seams.

Whether civil servants or not, walking into a situation like that could lead them to a beating themselves, so the Federation and Border Guards decided to let the three have their fun.

At that moment, the pitiful necromancer’s plea happened to reach Lucia’s ears.

“Brother, you haven’t repented enough!”

With Lucia’s telling glance, the two sprang into action.

Binding him with magical restraints that nullified the necromancer’s powers, they hoisted him up. Akande aimed him at the open cliff, while Lucia with all her strength swung the mace to send the necromancer flying.

The Federation and Border Guards (neglecting their duties) stood with mouths agape, watching.

“Whoa….”

Everyone’s attention zeroed in, as the anxious Alchemist cautiously murmured.

“Colonel.”

-‘Sent him flying ages ago.’

And then.

Sent soaring into the air, the necromancer witnessed it through a blurry gaze.

Fiery red hair and striking blue eyes glaring back at him.

His hands reached out desperately, but the mage’s fingers were already aimed at him.

—

The day the necromancer was captured in the nameless forest of Yambowej became the subject of countless eyewitness testimonies shared among the residents.

—

If an individual captures a criminal out of goodwill, that person is a hero. If a group voluntarily captures a criminal to protect their community, they form a self-defense squad.

If a person captures a criminal for monetary gain, then they are bounty hunters; conversely, if a person captures criminals for psychological pleasure, they are human hunters.

So what do we call those who meet all four criteria?

The answer is “us.”

“We’re going to be necromancers, yes or no?”

“No! Never again!”

By capturing the magic-users who committed crimes, it eliminated crimes; as a collective effort to capture criminals, the community was protected.

On top of that, they collected a handsome bounty from the Federation, thus gaining a nice side income. Although there were complicated backstories at play, they also achieved some level of psychological gratification.

Thus!

The amalgamation of the righteous hero, the community’s self-defense squad, the bounty hunter, and the human hunter, formed a being that was nonsensically intertwined, as if to say ‘an environmental destruction, exploitation of child labor, plantation GMO imperialism big head cabbage’—truly, an absurd and unfounded combination!

“Li has been born!”

(“There exists ‘Belgian chocolate’, made by squeezing cocoa, diamonds, and children’s wrists in the colonial Congo.”)

“I should have done this sooner. Tsk.”

After shaking the necromancer until I gathered useful information, I took my leave. By the way, that guy was already the 43rd ‘underworld wizard’ we’ve caught.

“……”

The ‘human hunt’ initiated by Lucia had matured over time, capturing many criminals along the way and bringing good news.

Firstly, the wizards kicked out from the Magic Tower for causing trouble.

It seemed our efforts to catch those still dazed and committing crimes among them were indeed effective.

While nothing dramatically changed, news circulated through our information network indicating that the underworld wizards were increasingly wary. Particularly after we had decimated the shaman faction that had been flaunting their power in the western province.

The underworld wizards, one of the main culprits behind the breakdown of order in the Mauritania Continent, began to show noticeably different behaviors once we started capturing them.

Evaluations of our effectiveness were so positive in both the international and domestic sectors that people were saying, “You’re doing a great job.”

Seemingly, an era of suffering had begun for international crime organizations.

And more so, the good news was…

“Did you hear anything today?”

“No!”

The Duke hadn’t visited.

Not even once in a whole week!

“It seems to be working. Except for the first day, we’ve had no contact at all, right?”

“I swear, not a single word.”

Although not a devout person, Camila emphasized she was speaking the truth by drawing a cross.

At her words, everyone’s expressions brightened. The joy of not being summoned by the Duke for a while lifted the heavy fog that had settled in their hearts.

Especially Camila, who seemed to brighten the most; when asked for a reason, she responded:

“Rather than fighting monsters, I’d prefer chasing down exiles.”

“Weren’t you close to the Duke? You seemed rather cozy for just being a priest.”

“Oh come on! No matter how much I like the professor, how could I battle monsters all day?”

While she adored the magic lessons from the archmage, the method of training was something she couldn’t wholly accept. In truth, everyone had similar thoughts.

Francesca, who had been completely misled by the term ‘good opportunity,’ and Lucia, who wholeheartedly believed in “please help me,” chimed in.

“That’s right! My grandmother pulled that on me too. What good opportunity is that…”

Francesca, feeling dejected, poured herself another drink and let out a huff.

“I expected training, you know, something stationary and meditative. But, well, the Duke, um, never mind. No need to say more.”

Resting her hand on her forehead, Lucia let her shoulders and neck relax as she slouched. Wait, why did she stop talking?

“Heh.”

I let out an awkward laugh.

Everyone looked utterly exhausted. They had gone through both physical and mental hardships.

Camila, slumping like a gelatinous creature in her chair, suddenly perked up!

“Why the long faces? We’re not going back for training right away! No one told us to come back!”

“…Because I’m tired. Not so much physically, but mentally a bit?”

“Who knew when the Duke would call us…?”

That’s why you couldn’t even sleep properly. Francesca and Lucia added in tired voices.

Akande chuckled softly.

“Very weak. Sleep. Always rich in sleep.”

“You fall asleep anywhere.”

“True words. Hard to refute.”

With applause, Camila drew everyone’s attention.

“Hey! Don’t stress over that. Look! We caught 43 people this week, so let’s take it easy starting tomorrow. Let’s enjoy ourselves tonight!”

Having been endlessly cautious around the Duke, everyone had been too busy working, so now it was finally time to play. None opposed her suggestion.

Akande went off to eat, while Lucia and Francesca excused themselves to take a quick nap. They all promised to meet back by 7 PM.

“Thanks for your efforts, Camila. See you at dinner!”

“See you later~”

“Oh, right.”

As I headed to the embassy to organize some documents, I suddenly turned back to her with a question.

“But really, since that first day, the Duke hasn’t called or texted at all?”

“No. Not a word.”

“Then what did he say the first day?”

“Well. It was nothing special…”

While sipping her café latte through a straw, Camila recalled her conversation with the Duke.

“He said he’d be busy catching exiles and necromancers for a while. So he wouldn’t be able to come back for the time being. Just told me to do well, I suppose?”

“…’Do well,’ you say?”

“Yup.”

I pondered this for a moment, gazing into the void, and after a while of tilting my head, I asked Camila to tell me what the Duke had said in English.

Then she succinctly delivered that very familiar phrase.

“Good luck.”

*

The next day.

No contact came from the Duke.

After capturing criminals every day, we recharged during the day. We read missed letters, enjoyed our free time, and ate what we wanted.

There was an incident where Akande almost brought home a cat (actually, it followed him), which made me jump. But aside from that, nothing eventful occurred. Just a calm and ordinary, everyday day.

As the night descended.

When a new day dawned.

We tasted true despair.

“I remember saying to come back once things settled down.”

We had clearly fallen asleep in our individual rooms. But when we opened our eyes, we were in the refugee camp’s clearing.

Those who had slept in beds were still in them, and Akande, who had slept on the floor, remained wrapped in his blanket.

Five of us, each sleeping in different spaces and times, now awoke in the same place, at the same moment.

And Alexandra Petrovna, the Duke, welcomed us.

“How could you possibly delay your return, you schemers?”

“I thought it would be interesting to observe when you’d give up. But here you are, pushing for time, barely lasting a week instead of a year.”

“Should I be embarrassed by this, or should I commend your efforts?”

“……”

I muttered inwardly as I lay in the embassy’s staff room.

Ah, this is why people call the Archmage an Archmage.

I trust you, Inquisition. You are not the inept militia. You’ve been veterans battling those monsters for over a decade.

The Cult.

What kind of battle have you been through?

“I am, very disappointed in you.”

An ancient sage, with a century of experience, made it clear how let down he was. It felt as if he would roast someone alive right then.

Desperate eyes looked around, but there was no light in this place.

Inquisition officers, wizards, diplomats, even refugees and volunteers, the peacekeeping forces felt overwhelmed and barely showed up. If a dog happened to be around, it might have barked them into shame. But not even a stray dog dared to approach.

Amid the mournful glances, the Duke’s voice echoed in my ears.

“……”

“Why don’t you try making excuses?”

Suddenly, someone burst out, as if waiting for the moment.

It was Camila.

“Professor…!”

As she reached the Duke, she unleashed a flood of excuses in ten seconds flat.

“It’s not like that! We actually found some clues while training, you know? But we weren’t sure what exactly it was, so we tried it out in practice….”

“?”

A question mark floated above Frederick’s head. Clue? I didn’t have anything like that.

Yet oddly, Lucia, Francesca, and even Akande were nodding their heads in agreement.

At that moment, Frederick felt a familiar pang of anxiety in his heart about his grades, which he had lost due to a missed point in class.

Frederick’s face began to resemble that of a strangely sad frog. Meanwhile, the Duke rested his chin in his hand and listened quietly to his disciples.

“It felt like an efficient way to use magic? When you limited my magic, it made me adjust techniques to avoid wasting power while facing multiple monsters….”

“Fighting monsters in a handicap situation certainly gives good experience. But, you see, there’s a huge difference between fighting against people and monsters. Oh! I’m definitely not saying your way is wrong….”

“Ugh… Ah! Yes! Professor, you said ‘Don’t hesitate once you’ve grasped the concept. There are those who wander unable to grasp anything, and hesitation only leaves regret and time wasted.’ So we figured since we have grasped something, we should study from various perspectives to reach deeper levels….”

“Enough.”

“Huh?”

“I understand what you mean.”

Camila stopped her explanation with a defeated voice. She briefly glanced at her master to see if she had upset him.

The Duke’s voice became noticeably softer, reaching everyone’s ears.

“I do understand your intent.”

With a crescent-shaped smile, the Duke surveyed the room.

“I’m glad to hear you’ve grasped the concept. I had hoped for you all to reach a higher level of enlightenment; but, I suppose that’s just an old man’s desire. You are all young seedlings, after all.”

“……”

“Whether you bear unknown powers from distant lands, or are the descendants of my colleagues, or a priest blessed by divine love, or one born with nothing.”

As everyone listened, soaking in the wise words the mage shared, one man, seemingly oblivious, let out an absurd snort.

Frederick, who had nothing at all.

“What…?”

Those deceitful wretches… why pick at painful parts suddenly? I had dreams of using magic when I was a kid too.

The former aspiring Doctor Strange turned bureaucrat felt droplets rolling down his cheek. For some reason, his eyes seemed to bulge and his skin reflected a green hue. He looked exactly like a frog.

The Duke remarked.

“I intended to give you a heavy burden after all. I should have waited a little longer.”

“…Professor.”

“What does it matter if growth is slow? There are far more people in the world who cannot wield magic.”

A hand was placed on his red hair. Despite being soft and wrinkle-free, its weight wasn’t light.

The Duke’s clear smile seemed relieved. It appeared he had unburdened a weight he carried in his heart. Camila dropped her gaze in solemnity.

The others did the same. Lucia and Francesca, taken aback by the sudden abduction, began to fall into the quiet atmosphere as well.

In truth, even Akande didn’t fully understand what the Duke was saying (as an aside, he was awkward even with the common language of the Mauritania Continent), but seeing the ‘frightening silver-haired woman’ get this worked up, he stealthily watched the ants crawling on the ground.

Then Frederick…

“…Ugh.”

Biting his ripped lower lip, he trembled with rage.

If he held a gun in his hand then, there might have been a chance for a repeat of the failed ‘révolution nationale’.

Of course, Alexandra Petrovna was no dictator, so instead of ‘the heart of a beast,’ ‘Serbian nationalism’ had to be deployed. With the combination of Serbian nationalism and a pistol, even the Duke and his spouse could be dispatched in one blow.

At that moment.

“Catch this.”

“Uh, uh?”

Just as he debated between the secrets of the Central Intelligence Agency (which didn’t exist) and the ultimate techniques of Sarajevo (which didn’t either), a large box flew toward Frederick.

In shock, Frederick caught it awkwardly, glancing between the box and the Duke.

“What is this?”

“It’s a gift. You’ll use it in the future.”

“…A gift?”

“Yes, a gift.”

The Duke, having handed over the ‘gift’, spun around swiftly, adding:

“If you were to die fighting a monster during training, you wouldn’t blame me, would you?”

“…?”

“…?”

“…?”

At that moment, question marks floated above everyone’s heads. The saint, the archmage’s descendants, the muscle-bound Fabre watching the ground, the bribed spy, and even the disciple hanging onto his master’s legs gazed wide-eyed at each other.

They blinked repeatedly, looking at one another’s faces, as if confused over whether they had misheard something. But the looks on their neighbors’ faces assured them they hadn’t.

With a jolt, reality struck. All sleep evaporated. The panicked gaze of everyone turned toward the archmage, who regarded their expressions with a mocking smirk.

“Did you think it would end here? Have you seen such wretched bears? I begin to set the mood and suddenly you all look down. Tsk, tsk….”

“…Ah!”

A sound escaped, half a sigh, half a scream.

The Duke laughed heartily.

“That was still an excellent answer. The difference between human versus monster battle… I hadn’t even considered that point.”

Whether he was genuinely happy, or if he had thought of something amusing, was unclear.

Whatever the reason, the Duke’s laughter resonated sincerely. And for Camila, this posed a real threat.

“I, as an apology, will specially fight you all one-on-one.”

A mock battle against the archmage, one versus one!

What an opportunity you couldn’t catch even for a billion bucks! This was a chance that even the world’s wealthiest could hardly seize!

The reason was simple.

No one in the world was crazy enough to pay a fortune to get beaten up by an archmage while learning magic!

“Damn it! This sucks!”

Camila, who had dug her own grave, pulled her hair in frustration, while Lucia, resigned to her fate, sighed deeply, and Francesca, sensing impending death, tightly shut her eyes.

“…Ancestral spirits! It seems I will follow soon.”

The five students grumbled in unison, some clutching their heads in anticipation of the agony to come. Meanwhile, the archmage was preparing his magic with a satisfied smile.

“I admired your cleverness. Though greatly disappointed, all ill feelings have been cleared, and I will deal with you fairly without being swayed by personal affections.”

“It sounds like you intend to kill us fairly!”

“Heh. Where in this world is a teacher who kills their own student?”

“I’ll be dead!”

Camila’s plea couldn’t reach the Duke’s ears. The swirling magic swallowed her voice.

Just ten seconds were enough until long-distance teleportation was complete.

“Then, next time, don’t disappoint your teacher with a lack of effort.”

With that barely audible chuckle, immense magical power whisked the five students away.

 

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