Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor - Chapter 288: For Every Dream [2]

When Vanitas and Margaret returned to Aetherion, there was no immediate place for them to hide.

The Astrea Mansion had already been destroyed by the enraged crowd. The University had declared a formal manhunt, placing Vanitas as the primary suspect in the disappearance of their Headmaster.

As for the Astrea Marquisate in Axenburg, it was too far from the capital to do anything. And moreover, Vanitas had already considered the possibility that those within its territory had turned against him as well.

That left only one option.

Yves’s clinic.

It was the only place that did not directly tie back to Vanitas. Despite undergoing monthly medical checkups there for a year, no public records reflected it. Yves had kept everything confidential, leaving no trace that could connect them.

To anyone else, Vanitas was never his patient.

“This is where you’re keeping them?” Margaret asked.

“Yeah.”

The Archmage and the Headmaster.

No one would think to search for them in a place like this.

Margaret did not question it further. The two stepped inside, and the moment they did, Yves was already there, as if he had been expecting them.

“Vanitas, you—” He stopped, a frown crossing his face. “…What the hell happened to you, boy?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Vanitas stepped forward and waved it off, taking a seat across from him. Margaret remained behind him.

“How is the Headmaster?” Vanitas asked.

“She hasn’t woken up yet,” Yves said. “As for the Archmage, her condition is stable. The drug administration is still taking effect, but not for long. Her body is adapting. If I increase the dosage, it could become harmful. I won’t be able to keep her unconscious much longer.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be needing her soon.”

Yves stared at him for a moment.

“…I really wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”

The reason Vanitas had kept the two Great Powers drugged and unconscious was simple.

To protect them.

Vanitas already knew what Soliette would do the moment she woke up. The self-loathing would come first, followed by the need to act. She would try again, seek out Fyodor, and that would only lead her back to the same outcome.

Death.

The same applied to Elsa.

If he had not intervened, if he had not made that decision back then, the Great Powers would have long been dead. Because of that, Vanitas denied either of them the chance to recover, keeping the two in a comatose state.

At that moment, the door to the clinic opened again.

Vanitas turned. “Franz.”

Franz Barielle Aetherion stepped inside, dressed in what appeared to be a plain civilian outfit. There was nothing about him that stood out at first glance.

Vanitas tilted his head.

“What are you supposed to be this time?”

“…A vendor,” Franz replied. “It’s quite an interesting occupation. Vendors are not actually the owners of their stalls. They are simply tasked with selling, acting as intermediaries between the supplier and the buyer.”

He adjusted his sleeves as he spoke.

“The ownership lies elsewhere, yet they are the ones who interact with the public. In a way, they are both visible and disposable.”

Vanitas stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Five years.”

Vanitas exhaled slowly, the faint urge to rub his temples creeping in. The thought crossed his mind again. The possibility that he had encountered some version of Franz every single day, under different names and occupations, no longer felt far-fetched.

If anything, it was starting to feel likely.

“…I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vanitas said. “How many jobs have you actually done in your life?”

Franz paused, tapping his lips as if genuinely considering it. Compared to his other counterparts, this Franz seemed far more expressive.

“Where should I start? Let’s see…”

“….”

“A sous-chef, a rice farmer, a cow caretaker, a horse caretaker, a librarian, a dock worker, a courier, a street cleaner, a tailor’s assistant, a gravekeeper, a ferry operator, a night watchman, a butcher, a candle maker, a school attendant…”

“….”

“A florist, a locksmith, a baker, a scribe, a carpenter’s apprentice, a fisherman, a stable hand, a bartender, and, briefly, a dentist…”

Franz showed no signs of stopping.

“Alright, stop,” Vanitas cut in. “Forget I asked.”

Franz closed his mouth without complaint.

At this point, it wouldn’t have been surprising if Franz Barielle Aetherion accounted for a noticeable portion of Aetherion’s population by himself.

* * *

Whoosh——!

Anastasia Gambino released a burst of flames toward her target. Moments ago, she had been walking through Aetherion without concern, as if the civil war brewing in the Empire had nothing to do with her, when all of a sudden, she was intercepted.

“Go to hell with your Queen! The Aetherions have ruled long enough!”

Anastasia frowned.

From the man’s words, it was easy to tell that he belonged to a faction that pushed for democracy.

Truth be told, Anastasia agreed with them.

However, there was nothing she could do about it.

She was merely following orders, after all.

———!

The exchange escalated immediately. The group of mages moved in coordination. And so, Anastasia fought off the group of mages.

From the way they moved, it was clear they weren’t trying to kill her. Their attacks were held back at key moments, avoiding anything fatal.

That meant only one thing.

They were aiming to capture her. Most likely, they intended to use her as a bargaining chip.

“Big mistake.”

Whoosh——!

The flames surged again, spreading through their formation and consuming everything in their path. The mages tried to defend, but Anastasia did not let up. Ignitions followed one after another, and explosions built continuously without pause.

When it ended, nothing remained but ash.

Unfortunately for them, they had wanted her alive. But Anastasia did not care.

She valued her own life above anything else. After graduation, living her life as the Gambino heir, taking lives had already become routine.

Anastasia fixed her sleeve. Bu the moment she noticed it, she clicked her tongue.

“Ugh… they ruined my dress.”

Tonight, she had planned an extravagant dinner with someone she had only recently begun seeing.

Now, part of her skirt was torn and scorched.

Of course, part of it was her fault. But that hardly mattered. It wouldn’t have happened if they had not decided to ambush her in the first place.

“…How annoying.”

She adjusted the fabric again, as if that would fix anything.

“It took me a while to pick this out… Ugh, now I’m late.”

As Anastasia turned the corner, she froze.

“You’ve been busy.”

Standing there, arms crossed as if he had been watching the entire time, was the person she least expected to see.

“P-Professor…!”

Anastasia immediately straightened like a startled cat. Then she paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took a closer look.

“…An old man?”

She leaned forward, inspecting him even closer.

“Oh… a zombie. Is this some kind of new makeup, Professor?”

“Enough with the jokes, Anastasia. Fill me in.”

Anastasia stepped back, looked around, then pulled Vanitas into an alley.

“It’s as you predicted, Professor. Princess Irene has already made contact with the Celestine Hegemony’s Emperor to validate her upcoming coronation. Troops are starting to rally in support of her.”

Vanitas nodded. “So it’s moving as expected.”

“It is.”

Anastasia did not elaborate further.

From the beginning, the Gambino Faction had never been against Vanitas Astrea. Irene’s rise, her position as the figurehead, even the structure of the rebellion itself, had all been set into motion by his orders.

Anastasia and the entire Gambino Family had only carried them out. After all, they were all indebted to Vanitas.

“But what about you, Professor?” Anastasia asked. “Are you really planning on dying?”

She said it so bluntly that Vanitas was taken aback, if only for a moment.

“If I die, I die,” he said. “That’s all there is to it. As long as everything is resolved, then I can accept that.”

“Wow. I didn’t expect my university professor to have a hero complex.”

She smiled bitterly.

“It’s a shame,” she continued. “If people actually knew the one they’re trying to kill is the one trying to save them, things might’ve been different.”

Vanitas shrugged and turned away.

“Not really. I’ve still taken lives. In the end, I’m no different from Fyodor.”

“Yeah, but don’t start with that ’all lives are equal’ bullshit,” Anastasia said. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“I never said that.”

Vanitas did not look back.

“You’re right. There are lives that can be discarded for the sake of the greater outcome. I will ensure they are not lost in vain.”

With that, Vanitas continued down the alley and disappeared from view.

Anastasia remained where she was, her gaze fixed on the empty space he had left behind.

After a moment, she turned away, walking off without another word.

* * *

Fyodor remained at a loss.

The seal placed upon the dragon bones by Archmage Zen was not something he could easily decipher, let alone fully comprehend. Even with his knowledge, the structure of it resisted interpretation, forcing him to proceed slowly.

But ever since receiving assistance from Vanitas Astrea, there had been progress.

According to Vanitas, the runic markings were part of an ancient language known as Hangeul. He offered no clear explanation as to why demonic creatures could use such a system, only that he was familiar with it.

When Fyodor pressed him for an answer, Vanitas dismissed it as personal study.

That alone was enough to say something about his intellect. Throughout recorded history, no one aside from Archmage Zen had been able to interpret this language, known as Hangugeo.

Even so, Fyodor remained hopeful.

Vanitas Astrea was the closest existence to Araxys. If there was anyone worthy of being called a Prophet, it would be him, not Fyodor.

“It’s been handled, Lord Fyodor.”

“Hm? What has?”

“The situation in Zyphran. Vanitas Astrea has subdued the Iron Lotus.”

“I see.” Fyodor nodded. “That is expected. If there is something I can accomplish, then Vanitas Astrea will achieve it with greater ease.”

At this point, it had already gone beyond simple acknowledgment. But bordered on blind faith. Ever since Vanitas Astrea had appeared, everything had begun to move forward.

What had remained stagnant for centuries had finally shown progress.

And that alone was enough. For Fyodor, the presence of one man had already begun to reshape everything.

“This world shall be free of sin.”

When Araxys descends, every soul will return to its creator. They will be enlightened. They will rise from what remains.

That was what Fyodor believed.

All he intended to do was clear the path. Every false prophet, every false god, every hollow form of worship would be reduced to nothing. Only then would the truth be seen.

Araxys.

The same deity that had once saved him.

And when that moment came, when everything was brought to its end, no child would have to endure what he once did.