Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor - Chapter 270: Voyaging Star’s Farewell [1]

Chapter 270: Voyaging Star’s Farewell [1]

“Vani… tas?”

It felt surreal.

The boy she had never seen again after that night had appeared before her. And in the years that had passed, he had grown into a decent-looking man.

“Y-You’re Vanitas Astrea, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

Vanitas remained standing, but Beatrice could see the pity in his eyes.

In truth, he had never forgotten her. But to keep that happy-looking family away from the clutches of the Astreas, he had believed there was no other choice but to stay away.

“…Why are you here?” Beatrice asked.

“I don’t know,” Vanitas replied. “A letter appeared in my office with this address. That’s what led me here.”

He had nearly dismissed it as a prank. Under normal circumstances, he would have.

But the name written on the letter had stopped him.

“Your daughter told me to come here.”

“…Karina did?”

The letter had been signed “Karina Maeril.”

Of all people, it had been that little girl. Vanitas had no idea how she had even learned that he had recently been instated as a professor. But in the end, he decided to grant the Maerils some favors.

“Anyway,” Vanitas began, “what is it you need… Teacher—no, Professor Maeril?”

A faint smile touched Beatrice’s lips. “My, you never called me that before.”

She paused, then let out a chuckle.

“Back then, you often called me a hag. Hehe.”

Vanitas looked away, choosing not to make a remark.

“How did you end up like this?” he asked.

“Seems like age finally caught up to me,” Beatrice replied. “But enough about that. How have you been? It’s really been such a long time.”

Vanitas nearly frowned.

He hadn’t come here for small talk. And if that was all she wanted, then this visit would have been a complete waste of time. But for reasons he could not explain, he pulled a stool closer and sat beside her, choosing to indulge her questions.

For Beatrice Maeril, he could do that.

“To start… I’m a professor now. At the Silver University Tower.”

“Th-That’s amazing…”

Beatrice’s eyes widened.

For many professors, it was a dream institution.

And for a first-time educator to be teaching at the collegiate level in his very first year, it told Beatrice everything she needed to know.

The boy she once knew had become truly exceptional.

So much so that her heart had warmed all of a sudden, genuinely feeling proud of him.

“But I don’t think I’m cut out for the job.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s stressful,” Vanitas said. “Truly. I don’t have the patience to teach idiots. I should’ve just settled for being a scholar.”

Beatrice laughed. “You sound exactly like how I used to. I thought the same thing when I first started teaching.”

Vanitas glanced at her. “Then why?”

“Because, even if most days were exhausting, there were always one or two students who made it worthwhile.”

She looked at him gently.

“You remember that, don’t you?”

“….”

“I’ve experienced many things during my years as an educator. The good and the bad. At first, I thought that if I simply worked hard enough, I could make a name for myself. That effort alone would be rewarded.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts.

“But reality was not so kind. There is a process to everything. And if you don’t have the means to protect yourself, they will take everything from you.”

At that, Beatrice began to explain.

Of the papers she had worked on for years, only to see her name removed before publication.

Of discoveries presented under someone else’s authority, while she remained standing in the background as little more than an assistant.

Of promises made in closed rooms, benefits that never came, and opportunities that vanished the moment they became inconvenient.

Of supervisors who praised her work in private, then dismissed her in public.

Of promotions that were always just out of reach.

Of how merit mattered less than lineage, and how those without backing were easy to exploit.

“But I have to say, I didn’t hate teaching.”

“….”

“Because I was able to reach the few who need it the most.”

Her eyes met his.

“You were one of them.”

Vanitas looked away, saying nothing.

“But even one student like that,” Beatrice continued, “is enough to make the job meaningful.”

Vanitas remained silent for a moment, feeling awkward.

Truthfully, he had not become a professor for the sake of teaching. It had been a matter of convenience and access. The Silver University Tower offered benefits and freedoms the Scholars Institute never would.

Had he remained there, he would have been unable to pursue the studies he truly wanted. At best, his career would have stagnated into mediocrity.

And yet, listening to Beatrice now, perhaps there was more to guiding others.

Perhaps through the compromises, there was something genuinely worthwhile in it after all.

“I don’t know the struggles and hardships you’ve been through,” Beatrice said. “But seeing what you’ve accomplished, and what you will accomplish, I’m genuinely proud of you, Vanitas.”

“….”

Vanitas looked away.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

“…What is it you want from me?” Vanitas asked. “I’m a busy man now, you know.”

“But I suppose some things never change,” Beatrice said with a giggle. “You’re still that stubborn boy I remember.”

“I’m serious.”

“Well, I don’t know why Karina wanted you to see me. But may I ask you for a favor, Vanitas?”

“What is it?”

“That girl… She’s walking down the same path as me. But I want her to be better. Not to settle as an academy professor, but to soar to heights I could never reach.”

“And what do you want me to do?

Beatrice had seen the feelings Karina had kept bottled up all these years. She did not know what her daughter had struggled with, only that it had not been easy.

When she had asked Romulus, all he could say was that even he did not know.

There had been periods when Karina was younger and had stopped visiting her altogether. Beatrice could only speculate. Perhaps the girl did not want to see her mother so weak and frail.

Perhaps she had even begun to resent her for falling ill.

In truth, Beatrice no longer knew what to think. She had not been there for much of her daughter’s growth.

So perhaps this was the only help she could still offer.

“Please, provide a letter of recommendation for her… I know I’m asking for a lot, but…”

“Alright.”

Through Vanitas.

“I’ll try to bring her into the Tower.”

“Thank you…”

With that, Vanitas stood. It was about time to leave.

“I’d love to stay and catch up,” he said, “but I have a faculty meeting in about an hour.”

“Of course,” Beatrice replied. “You’re an important man now. Hehe. It feels like just yesterday I’d see you sitting alone at the back of the classroom.”

Vanitas paused, then smiled faintly, before turning to leave.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, Beatrice spoke again.

“Come visit me anytime,” she said. “It would be nice to have company. There’s still so much left to talk about.”

“Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The following week, Vanitas came again.

“Did you ever ask your daughter why she sent me that letter?”

“She hasn’t visited in a while,” Beatrice replied. “And I have no way of contacting her. I did ask my husband, but he said he doesn’t know either. He plans to visit her apartment sometime soon.”

“I see,” Vanitas said. “She’s old enough to live alone now.”

“Mhm. Her university is quite far from our home, and she saved enough to rent a place closer to it. Time really does fly by, doesn’t it? My little girl is already a first-year university student.”

The following week, he came by again.

“I think I messed up, Teacher.”

“What do you mean?”

“My temper got the better of me,” Vanitas said. “I snapped at a student. She’s quite resilient, though. Stood her ground. That’s probably why it irritated me. At this rate, I’ll end up being painted as a terror professor.”

Beatrice smiled. “You know, the fact that you’re worried about that already tells me you’re not one.”

“These brats just don’t get it. I don’t understand why there’s such a generational gap between them and me when I’m not even that much older. They think university is all fun and games.”

Beatrice chuckled. “They’re not wrong. For some of them, it is.”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

And the next week, he came by again.

For some reason, there was always a pattern to it. If he visited on a Monday, then the next visit would be on a Tuesday the following week.

Gradually, the intervals stretched.

Once a week became once every two weeks.

Then once every three.

Eventually, once a month.

Even so, Beatrice was genuinely happy.

He had found a place for himself in this world. He was standing on his own, moving forward in his own way, and that was all she had ever wished for him.

If she had ever been given a son of her own, she thought, she would have wanted him to grow up just like Vanitas.

“Mother.”

And then, one day, out of the blue, someone unexpected paid her a visit.

“…Karina?”

It was Karina.

This should have been the busiest period of her university life. And yet, for some reason, she still came. Karina often visited whenever she could, at least thrice or four times a month when her schedule allowed, and Beatrice understood how difficult that was.

Living far from the hospital. Juggling multiple part-time jobs. Trying to keep up with her studies. None of it was easy.

“Aren’t you going to sit, dear?”

For some reason, Karina remained standing where she was. Then, slowly, she stepped closer. Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating her figure. She was taller than Beatrice remembered, but nevertheless, she was undoubtedly Karina.

“Oh, right,” Beatrice said. “The letter you sent. Vanitas actually came. He’s been visiting quite often.”

“….”

“Karina?”

“That man knows where my father is.”

“What?”

“They’ve been working together to treat the Empress this whole time,” Karina said. “Vanitas and my father. Zelliel.”

“Karina, how do you—”

Beatrice wanted to ask how she knew. Why she knew. How she was aware that Beatrice had been searching for Zelliel in the first place.

“Ask him,” Karina said. “Ask him to meet my father. And ask Father why he left us…”

“Karina, you—”

Beatrice’s eyes opened.

“….”

It was a dream.

The following month, Vanitas came by again.

“You’re here, Viscount Astrea.”

Vanitas paused. Beatrice was unusually formal today. She hesitated, then spoke again.

“I know this is a strange question to ask, but… do you know Doctor Zelliel?”

“….”

Vanitas’s eyes shook. Beatrice couldn’t help but catch that subtle shift in his expression.

“So you do…”

“I don’t.”

“Zelliel,” she began. “I know you’re working with him.”

“….”

Vanitas took an unconscious step back.

“I don’t care how you know him,” Beatrice continued. “Or what kind of relationship you have with him. But please…”

“Professor—”

“He’s… my ex-husband… I need… to see him… W-Will you grant me this favor…?”

Faced with those desperate, trembling eyes, Vanitas could not bring himself to refuse.

Beatrice did not have much time left. He knew that much. He had already spoken with her doctors in private and arranged to sponsor her treatments behind her back.

Even then, the prognosis remained grim.

The reason his visits had grown fewer was simply that he did not want to grow attached.

He did not want to say goodbye.

Not to this woman who had only been part of his childhood for half a semester, yet had become more of a mother to him than his own mother ever had.

“…Alright.”