I Became the Academy’s War Hero Chapter 61

“How much longer are we supposed to wait?!”

“I told you already. We haven’t received permission from inside yet.”

“I clearly mentioned Eugene Carter’s name! And you’re saying it’s been three hours and still no authorization?”

“Haa… please wait just a moment.”

The thin man who had guided Eugene earlier shook his head in exasperation and left the reception room.

Left alone, Walter Clark began pacing around the room, sighing heavily as if his patience was wearing thin.

Eric, who had been waiting quietly in the corner, asked awkwardly.

“Are we still supposed to wait?”

“…I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that Carter brat.”

What the hell was he even doing on such a precious weekend? Damn it.

All Eugene had said was to bring Eric Halenber to the Magic Tower.

Still, as a teacher, Walter had a sense of duty — if he accepted a request, he should see it through to the end.

So he had been waiting for the Magic Tower’s response… but his patience was reaching its limit.

“You stay here. I’ll go out and see what the hell is going on—”

Clack!

Just then, as if on cue, the door swung open.

“Whoa!”

They almost collided, but the man didn’t even offer an apology.

Instead, he handed Walter a visitor’s permit and gave a shallow bow.

“If you lose this, it’ll be troublesome, so please keep it safe. Now, follow me this way.”

Seeing how obviously eager the man was to finish his work and go home only made Walter more irritable.

Still, knowing there was nothing to gain by picking a fight, he bit down the urge.

“Ah, I only came here to escort this student…”

“You’re Walter Clark, correct?”

“…That’s right.”

“Eugene Carter left a message requesting that you come along as well.”

At that, Walter, who had been inching backward, froze on the spot.

“…Carter did?”

The place they were led to was an arena on the third basement floor.

At the center of the stage, a symphony of sounds echoed from multiple directions.

And at its heart, Eugene Carter was skillfully fending off the attacks of two magicians.

It was a dazzling display of offense and defense — an overwhelming performance that drew a gasp from Walter before he even realized it.

‘…He’s taking all those ranged spells so effortlessly.’

The number of spells wasn’t everything, of course, but judging by their power, none of them were weak.

Naturally so — for those from the Magic Tower, real-combat spells were as basic as breathing.

They were the kind who mastered all four elemental schools of magic as part of Karbenna’s standard novice curriculum.

Though the Tower prioritized academic value and research results over practicality, it was still recognized as the world’s third major power.

There could be no doubt about the skill of its magicians.

The puzzling one, rather, was Eugene.

Walter’s gaze shifted to the small shield in Eugene’s hand.

‘…What’s that?’

His swift movements and flawless swordsmanship alone deflected half the attacks, but the remaining half were still coming through.

One of Rubia’s main techniques, Frozen Spear, was powerful enough to bruise with just a graze — a single hit could easily turn fatal.

And yet, Eugene’s shield was blocking every remaining attack — though Walter couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out how.

Tiiing!

Some spells didn’t even touch the shield, yet they bounced away with a sharp clang, as if there was an invisible barrier in the air.

‘…Could it be?’

The prolonged clash ended abruptly at Meriel’s words.

“The guest you mentioned earlier seems to have arrived.”

When she lowered her wand first, Rubia soon stopped casting as well.

As soon as the duel was confirmed to be over, Eugene laid down his shield and sword.

“You’re later than I expected.”

“They just wouldn’t let us in. We waited three hours, can you believe it?”

Walter slung an arm over the awkwardly standing Eric’s shoulders with a grin.

“So, what did you call me for?”

“There’s something I want you to deliver to Karbenna… more precisely, to the Chairwoman.”

“…Why do I feel this is going to be bad? Can’t I just not do it?”

“No.”

When Eugene glanced toward Meriel, she took out a small envelope from her coat and handed it over.

“What’s this?”

“A declaration of war.”

The warlike smile that followed was just a bonus.

At that same time, in the Master of the Magic Tower’s chamber—

In the wide, empty room, Gustav paced back and forth, swallowing hard.

His lips moved incessantly, betraying his anxiety.

“…Maybe I shouldn’t have signed off on it, even with an excuse.”

No — there was no such thing as an excuse that could free one from that slippery bastard, Carter.

If one didn’t exist, he would create it, twisting the situation to his advantage. That was the kind of man Eugene Carter was.

Now that they were already acting in alliance, there was no option but to cooperate.

Still, the balance of power leaned heavily to one side.

Carter had nothing left to lose after the incident seven years ago, whereas Gustav had accumulated much since then.

“…This won’t do.”

He needed to secure an escape route, no matter what.

If Carter’s plan succeeded and Gustav managed to keep his position as Master of the Tower, that would be ideal — but if things went wrong, he would be the first to be discarded.

There was no harm in preparing a Plan B.

So Gustav began thinking of which factions might take him in.

‘Let’s list them in order of influence.’

First, the Imperial Court — the undisputed First Power of the Empire.

…But the Court was not fond of the Magic Tower.

The issue with the Ribenian Orthodox Faith was part of it, but the tax issue was an even greater factor.

Since the Swenor Accord of 1389, the Tower under the Duel branch had been exempt from taxation by imperial decree.

‘…What about reestablishing ties with the Bernhardt Family?’

That possibility was slim as well.

The relationship between the Bernhardt and Mallet lineages had never been good to begin with.

That emotion’s gap had been something Michel Bernhardt, the current Chairwoman of Karbenna, had tried to narrow with some effort, but there were no notable results.

She was, from the start, the Bernhardt scion with the weakest standing.

Even if relations had been relatively amicable, the outcome would not have been much different.

To them, there was no such thing as a losing deal.

In this case they would surely demand that Mallet turn over all the data and technology he had.

In such a situation, would they do a favor for Eugene — a Special Task Force alumnus — and Michel, an outsider of the Bernhardts?

That would practically be the same as writing, “Please intervene with Mallet.”

‘…So that’s why Carter mentioned Dellowell back then.’

Of course, no matter how much influence Bernhardt had, she could not mobilize Dellowell immediately.

The only power capable of that was the Imperial Court, but the Court was currently embroiled in a three-way struggle.

Any move would inevitably spark conflicts of opinion, and time would naturally be delayed.

But it would happen eventually.

Even if they failed to persuade the royal house, they still had the parliament as a last resort.

“…So a clash is unavoidable, then.”

If so, one had to win.

Gustav sighed deeply and gazed down at the envelope and papers on the table.

“Better to be remembered as a resistor than as a scarecrow.”

Perhaps it would be enough to be remembered as a resistor who fell opposing Bernhardt’s outrage.

With the conclusion reached, there was no more hesitation.

He sat down and began to write quickly with a pen.

At the end he wrote the following line.

‘To the head of the Arta family, Kali Arta’

Early the next morning.

Frederick Lake had been summoned suddenly and had to go straight to the Chairwoman’s office without stopping by Academic Affairs.

‘There have been a lot of summonses recently….’

The conversation never lasted longer than five minutes.

Most questions were formalities: how were the faculty doing, and were the summit preparations going smoothly.

Questions simple enough that someone else could have answered them.

He felt both puzzled and a little sympathetic.

‘She herself must not be confident.’

Whom to trust, who would become one’s ally.

Frederick himself, strictly speaking, was in a neutral position and often felt uncertain.

For now she appeared isolated — the underdog.

But Michel Bernhardt was not a woman who would simply submit.

‘When she becomes strong again, she’ll whip them before anyone remembers this moment….’

So he needed to judge even more carefully.

This decision could affect not only the remainder of his teaching career but also his later years.

None of the servants who were supposed to guard the door could be seen anywhere.

Unperturbed, Frederick knocked and then opened the door wide.

Knock—knock—

“This is the Dean, Chairwoman.”

“Come in.”

Michel continued with the paperwork she always did.

“There aren’t any servants outside.”

“They all took sudden leave together.”

She replied without lifting her head.

“No news from Instructor Carter since then?”

“…Ah, no. That’s all he reported at the time.”

He had said the vanguard was moving into the operation area when a beast suddenly attacked, and during the response Professor Rubia Magnus had been injured.

They judged that proper treatment could not be conducted in Karbenna and would head to the Magic Tower for care.

…That was the message he left through Walter Clark.

Michel set her pen down for a moment, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes.

“So Eugene Carter went to the Magic Tower… How should we interpret that, Frederick?”

“I’d take it at face value. To treat Professor Magnus….”

“To storm Mallet alone just to treat one professor?”

“…….”

“Were those two that close?”

“…They probably weren’t. There wouldn’t have been a reason.”

“And if treatment were the only purpose, there’d be no reason he hadn’t returned yet. He only needed to hand things over properly.”

“Hmm.”

Frederick’s ambiguous answer drew a faint smile from Michel.

“It seems our Instructor Carter is in quite a hurry. I wonder what he’s rushing for?”

“…Rushing? Carter?”

“If he were out to settle an old grudge, he would have taken more time and proceeded step by step.”

“I don’t follow what you mean…”

Frederick didn’t understand, and she offered no further explanation.

Michel quickly organized the hypotheses in her head and slowly opened her eyes.

“Dean.”

“Speak.”

“Are the current briefings prepared?”

He straightened his posture and nodded slightly.

“The preparations are complete, but there are still parts that need review.”

“Okay. Finish them by tomorrow and bring them back. How are preparations for the special training going?”

“…What preparations are there? It’s just showing that arrogant brat a bitter taste.”

That was Frederick’s honest feeling.

He wasn’t displeased with the fellow’s return per se.

But malice from the past didn’t dissipate so easily.

Eugene Carter remained, for him, a rival.

If this opportunity allowed a decisive demonstration of the gap and convinced him that the brat was truly chastened, then the matter could be settled by employing him later.

Therefore Frederick had no intention of going easy.

The more overwhelming the performance, the better it would be for Karbenna’s reputation.

“Didn’t the Chairwoman instruct you to proceed that way?”

“She did.”

But she had changed her mind.

She spoke firmly to the puzzled Frederick, who was about to cock his head.

“Not just not going easy — you won’t be able to stop Instructor Carter as he is now.”

“Do you mean…?”

Michel’s expression turned colder.

“Prepare to kill. Then it will be a good match.”