Magic Academy's Bastard Instructor

The submissions poured in.

Vanitas sat in his study, methodically reviewing the first-year exercise papers.

Each page demanded his full attention.

Karina, standing nearby, hesitated before speaking. "Professor, would you like me to assist?"

He didn't even glance up.

"No. You wouldn't be able to check them correctly."

Karina blinked, stunned by his bluntness. But eventually nodded, realizing the seriousness in his tonality.

Scribble– Scribble–

"Hmm."

Vanitas brows raised with interest, reviewing another submission.

On the first day, most students assumed there was a single correct answer to the exercise.

By the third day, however, something shifted.

When they reached the core, the answers began to vary.

Collaboration had been essential, but it also bred contention.

Pairs debated their findings.

Some claimed their solutions were correct while dismissing their partners' work.

Others attempted to merge conflicting answers, only to create even more convoluted spellformulas.

In other words, the exercise was testing their ability to work together under such circumstances.

Vanitas smirked faintly, setting one paper aside.

"Oh?"

His gaze fell on a particular submission.

[Astrid Barielle Aetherion and Ezra Kaelus.]

The penmanship and diagrams were undoubtedly Astrid's. They were precise, methodical, and elegantly structured.

However, the convoluted, instinct-driven conjectures scattered throughout were unmistakably Ezra's handiwork.

From the way the solutions were written, Vanitas could practically paint the scene.

There was no doubt they had conflicted.

Arguments must have flared. Astrid's sharp words likely lashed out at Ezra, while Ezra, unbothered, scribbled away with his erratic ideas.

Perhaps she even came close to strangling him verbally.

Yet, despite the chaos, they had achieved a remarkable result.

Their final answer was aligned.

Vanitas leaned back with amusement.

"They surprisingly work well together."

A perfect score.

Flip—

Next up were the other submissions.

A large number of them were incomplete, ending at the outer layer.

Some managed to make it all the way to the inner layer.

A handful had attempted the core, but most left it unfinished.

Vanitas flipped through them.

"Hmm…."

Even solving just the outer layer was enough to boost their understanding for their next couple of exams.

It laid the foundation for practical applications they'd soon encounter.

Still, the disparity was telling.

The submissions varied wildly. Each of them highlighted the students' differing levels of effort and understanding.

Some papers bore methodical solutions with clear logic.

Others were rushed with sloppy solutions and equations riddled with errors.

Vanitas didn't linger on the failures.

He knew many students were overwhelmed by the exercise's difficulty.

That was expected.

"...."

He paused on a paper where the inner layer was mostly correct.

The student's calculations were solid, but they had clearly misunderstood one part of the amplification sequence.

Vanitas made a note in the margin.

[Good effort. Revisit mana flow stabilization equations.]

Flip—

Another submission caught his eye. It was a near-perfect answer for the outer layer, yet the pair had stopped there.

"Lack of confidence."

It was clear they had the capability to go further but hesitated to take the risk.

Flip—

Flipping to the next paper, Vanitas raised an eyebrow.

This one was bold.

The pair had skipped the outer and inner layers entirely, and dived straight into the core.

Of course, their answer was wrong.

But there was something intriguing about their audacity.

"An unconventional approach…."

By the time he reached the last few submissions, Vanitas had a clear picture of the class's overall progress.

Some students had exceeded his expectations.

Others had barely scratched the surface.

But the exercise had achieved its purpose.

And then, the third to the last submission.

[Charlotte Astrea and Elysia Brunhilde.]

Vanitas paused.

"Wow."

It was a totally different approach.

The submission was unlike anything he'd reviewed so far.

Two completely different answers were presented.

One was clearly marked as Charlotte's.

The other, Elysia's.

Vanitas scanned Elysia's work first.

Her style was bold.

Where others tread cautiously, Elysia dove straight into complex layers without hesitation.

Her calculations reflected an almost reckless confidence.

Each equation flowed naturally, as if she were following an instinct rather than strict methodology.

It reminded him of Ezra's work, though hers was more refined.

The diagrams she provided were unconventional.

Vanitas leaned closer.

"Creative."

Her answer to the core wasn't fully developed, and several parts lacked cohesion, but her approach was daring.

A willingness to take risks, even at the cost of precision.

"She's a risk-taker."

Sliding her section aside, Vanitas turned his attention to Charlotte's.

The shift was immediate.

"Oh…."

Charlotte's submission was unlike anything else.

It was borderline unrelated to the original circuit.

Yet, Vanitas could see faint traces of his design embedded within it.

Charlotte had completely restructured the entire circuit.

It was an entirely new formula, built from the foundation he had provided.

Vanitas leaned back, tapping his pen against the desk.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"It seems the message got through."

Charlotte hadn't simply solved the exercise.

She had transformed it.

Where others struggled to understand the core, she had forged her own path and discarded convention.

The foundation for the creation of her very first spell.

That was the exercise's real intent.

Not just an exercise for the first–years, but a weapon for Charlotte.

A way to arm his little sister with the means to fight back.

Vanitas knew all too well about the bullying Charlotte endured.

The seniors who whispered behind her back, graffitiing her door with cruel words.

Their resentment likely stemmed from the old Vanitas due to his questionable actions in the past, or perhaps the grudges held by those he had failed.

Perhaps he had failed them in their exams.

Most likely, they had coerced the first–year students into distancing themselves from Charlotte.

In any case, reasons didn't matter anymore.

What mattered was the outcome.

Charlotte bore the weight of these actions, isolated from her peers, accused of nepotism, and yet….

She never barked.

Nor did she ever bite back.

She held her head high, even as the world around her seemed intent on dragging her down.

Vanitas never directly intervened.

Charlotte was a grown woman.

It wasn't his place to step in as an older brother, not when doing so would only fuel the rumors of nepotism.

But in the first place, he wasn't even her older brother mentally. For that reason, he knew Charlotte wouldn't want him to intervene.

The allegations against her would only solidify further if he stepped in, no matter how false they were.

So he chose another path.

One that didn't require words or direct confrontation.

This exercise. It was his way of helping her. Of giving her something she could hold onto.

It wasn't just about proving herself academically.

It was about giving her the confidence to stand tall and push forward.

To forge her own path, not as Vanitas Astrea's sister, but as Charlotte Astrea.

Vanitas leaned back in his chair, his amethyst eyes softening as he gazed at her submission.

"...."

But there was a problem.

The submission wasn't cohesive.

Two answers were submitted instead of one unified solution.

It broke the rules of the exercise, even if both answers showed remarkable insight.

If he gave them a perfect score, the allegations of nepotism would only worsen.

He couldn't afford that—not for her sake or his.

So, with a steady hand, Vanitas marked their submission.

[Five points deducted for conflicting answers.]

***

The examinations came faster than anyone anticipated.

July 7, 2022.

The lecture hall was filled with nothing but the faint scratch of pens against paper.

Every student was hunched over their desk, focusing on the test papers.

The air was heavy with tension. Even the usual murmurs and shuffling were absent.

Vanitas sat on his usual desk, propping his legs on the table as his sharp gaze scanned the hall.

Karina stood beside him, observing quietly.

Scribble— Scribble—

Astrid's brow furrowed as her eyes locked onto question number 21.

[Derive the optimized mana flow rate for a tri-layered circuit. Ensure compatibility with variables provided in the accompanying spellformula.]

Her pen hovered over the page as she scanned the formula written beside the question.

It was dense and layered with coefficients and interconnected nodes.

[Solve for the stability threshold formula.]

Astrid's heart pounded as she recalled her first encounter with similar problems during the first week.

Back then, a question like this would have taken her ten minutes, if not longer, to solve.

Now?

It wasn't overwhelming.

It was clear.

Crystal clear.

Her pen moved swiftly.

She started by isolating the primary variables.

'Node a1 is the stabilizer,' she underlined. 'The compatibility factor depends on the mana density coefficient at b2'

Her calculations flowed seamlessly.

She adjusted the mana amplification variable and recalibrated it to align with the stability threshold.

Finally, she substituted the secondary variables back into the core formula.

It all clicked into place.

Astrid leaned back slightly.

She understood it.

Not just the solution, but why it worked.

"...."

Her lips curled into a faint smile.

Flip—

The next question.

[The circuit below depicts a three-layered spellformula. Analyze each layer in detail and interpret the function of each component. Explain the relationship between each layer, and deduce the intended spell application.]

Astrid's gaze locked onto the circuit diagram sketched on the paper.

"...."

The equation flowed seamlessly inside her head as she began jotting down her answers.

Scribble— Scribble—

***

"Haaa…."

Ezra sighed, stretching his arms as he exited the lecture hall.

The theoretical exam had lasted three grueling hours.

He felt like his brain was going to melt as the equations and circuits still flooded his mind.

"...."

He rubbed his temples, trying to push the lingering thoughts aside.

As he turned, his eyes caught Astrid standing near the corridor.

She was discussing the exams with her friends.

Ezra couldn't help but smirk.

"She probably aced it."

He turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets, ready to leave the building behind.

But then—

"Commoner."

A voice rang out, causing Ezra to pause mid–step.

Slowly, he turned around with raised brows.

It was Astrid.

She stood a few steps away, her arms crossed and her gaze locked onto him.

"Yes?" Ezra asked.

"How did you do?" Astrid asked, though her gaze avoided his.

"Why are you asking?"

"Because you were my partner. If you failed, it would reflect on me," she said, but she still wasn't meeting his gaze.

"Ah, so you're worried about your image?"

Astrid, startled, finally met his gaze, and frowned. "Don't twist my words."

"I'm kidding, Princess. Not so bad, I guess."

"Not so bad?"

"I'm pretty sure I didn't fail."

"Good." Astrid turned around. "That's all I needed to hear."

Ezra blinked, watching her retreating figure.

"That's it?"

Astrid paused but didn't turn back. "Why? Were you expecting something more?"

"Not really."

"Good."

"Fine."

"What?"

"Exactly."

Astrid finally turned back, glaring at him with an expression that screamed, 'What is wrong with you?'

"I really can't get along with her."

Not like he wanted to.

Out of all the aristocrats in the University Tower, Astrid was undoubtedly the most insufferable.

When they worked on the exercise, Ezra's suggestions were immediately shut down.

—No, that doesn't make sense, Commoner.

How would she know? She didn't even let him finish most of the time!

Ezra sighed, recalling one specific moment.

—Nodes don't work like that, Commoner.

"Uh, yeah, they do," he had replied, only for her to glare at him like he'd just insulted her entire lineage.

In the end, he had to explain every single step.

Painstakingly.

By the time she begrudgingly admitted he was right, he was already exhausted.

And did she thank him?

Of course not.

—Commoner, the coefficients need recalibrating. 

After that, she'd move on as if she hadn't just wasted twenty minutes arguing over a point he'd been correct about from the start.

He groaned aloud, dragging a hand down his face as he walked.

Basically, working with her felt like solving two problems at once. One being the circuit, and the other, her.

"Haha." A laugh escaped him despite his annoyance.

It wasn't all bad, though. 

She was sharp. He had to give her that. Probably one of the smartest people he'd met.

But still.

"Haa…. Commoner this, commoner that.

They were akin to oil and water.

The thought of having to pair up with Astrid again in the future made him shudder.

"....I hope that's the last time."