Chapter 8
I was currently attending Professor Dellon’s Dungeon Studies class—the very professor who had personally sent me a letter.
In the classroom, I spotted some very familiar faces.
The trio of monster-like brothers who had picked a fight with me and gotten flattened in one blow, Princess Francia who had threatened me to “shut up and stay in your place,” and Kail, waving at me with a bright smile.
‘Why do you keep smiling like that…?’
Shaking my head ever so slightly so no one would notice, I quickly found an empty seat and sat down.
Soon, I could feel the sharp stares of those around me.
‘Ignore it. Ignoring is the answer.’
Forcing myself to disregard their gazes, I stared only at the front.
And then—
Clatter.
A middle-aged man strode in, carrying a book thicker than most dictionaries, sporting a splendid beard and a gold-tinged monocle.
‘That must be Professor Dellon, right?’
As I expected, the man tapped the desk a couple of times and spoke.
“Alright, let’s begin the lecture. Everyone, focus.”
Gathering the students’ attention, Professor Dellon asked:
“What subject are we studying here? Anyone, answer.”
A female student quickly raised her hand.
“Yes, go ahead.”
“It’s the study of dungeon formation principles, discovery, strategies for conquest, and escape—basically comprehensive dungeon knowledge.”
“Correct.”
Tap tap.
[The Basics and Practice of Dungeon Studies]
The chalkboard behind him filled with bold black letters.
“Up until now, we’ve been covering the fundamentals of dungeons—their basic nature, how to explore them, survive inside, and escape.”
Professor Dellon placed both hands on the lectern and scanned the class.
“Now, let me ask another question.”
The room fell silent.
“What’s the basic principle behind dungeon formation?”
The same water-blue-haired girl raised her hand again.
“It’s the distortion of mana. Most dungeons occur due to the condensation or explosion of mana in nature. We also learned that by understanding this principle, it’s possible to artificially create dungeons.”
“…Excellent answer. One bonus point.”
Dellon smiled with satisfaction, and the girl beamed with joy.
This looks… familiar. Oh right, this is like Harry Potter… so she must be Hermione?
“Dungeons are created because of mana distortion. Now, what is mana distortion exactly?”
Mana distortion?
So… mana is the power that creates magic.
And when it gets twisted, that’s distortion?
“Mana is the same as mana itself. When it becomes twisted and warped, that’s mana distortion. Correct?”
Oh, I got it right.
“Now then, what’s the basic form of mana? Anyone?”
My heart pounded.
‘Finally, real magic lessons! Mana, power, magic—whatever it is, I’ll learn it all!’
Fireball, Ice Spear, Hellfire, Teleport, and more!
Just imagining it gave me chills of excitement.
‘Come on, someone answer already!’
And then, once again, the water-blue-haired girl’s hand shot up.
‘Yes! Hermione!’
So what’s the basic form of mana?!
“E^2A = ∝U&∂.”
…What?
…What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“Correct again.”
Professor Dellon’s smile grew broader as he nodded.
He turned to the chalkboard and began scribbling furiously with chalk.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
“The basic form of mana is the formula that Chelsea just recited, ‘E^2A = ∝U&∂.’ When mana twists, it transforms into ‘E*AS^⦡ = Å + ℃,’ and as it approaches ∞, a dungeon forms.”
He turned back to the students.
“See? Easy, right?”
…Excuse me?
Easy? That’s supposed to be easy?
“…So that’s magic?”
Did I hear that right?
“The derivation of the formulas ‘E^2A = ∝U&∂’ and ‘E*AS^⦡ = Å + ℃’ is explained in detail on page 782 of your textbook. Read it later. Next…”
The board was covered in what looked like complete alien language.
“So, the cause of dungeon occurrence is very simple. A dungeon is basically a virus. You know how you break out in acne during exams? When that same phenomenon applies to the world and mana, you get a dungeon. Therefore, in the formula E*AS^⦡ = Å + ℃, the ∞ means…”
Nope. Lost me.
Totally lost me.
…I’m a liberal arts major, for crying out loud.
Dellon then asked the students again:
“How about it? Simple, right?”
What is this guy, Bob Ross? Simple my ass!
Wait—maybe he’s teaching some unnecessary advanced course all at once.
That girl already knew everything because she’s smart.
Maybe the other students are just as lost as I am.
‘Yeah, don’t overthink it. Just check.’
Tap tap.
I nudged the student beside me.
“Hey.”
The big guy next to me flinched and turned toward me, his voice trembling.
“H-huh? C-Camon?! W-what?”
“Sorry for the sudden question, but… what’s your name?”
“Huh? I-it’s… Bren.”
“Alright, Bren. I just want to ask—do you understand what’s on the board? Do you get any of this?”
“…Huh?”
“I’m asking if you understand it.”
I pointed at the chalkboard.
“Well, um…”
He tilted his head, then his face fell with realization.
What now?
Riiiip.
He tore out a page from his notebook.
“Here.”
And handed it to me.
‘Huh? What’s this?’
“I took full notes. T-today, this is all I’ve got. So…”
He trailed off, nearly on the verge of tears.
I froze.
“N-no, I wasn’t asking for notes. I was just wondering if you understood it. I don’t, so I wanted to check. Why give me your notes—”
But he clasped his hands together and pleaded desperately.
“I’m sorry, Camon. Really, this is all I have right now. I-I’ll bring all the Dungeon Studies notes next time. Please… just don’t hit me.”
‘Hit you?’
I glanced diagonally across the room—straight at one of the monster brothers.
“…”
So this was his doing, huh.
“Hmph.”
The big guy flinched at even that small sound.
‘Fine, whatever. It can’t be helped now.’
If I did anything, it would just backfire.
I’d clear up the misunderstanding later.
Anyway, the notes he gave me were thorough—every formula, every explanation, all written out.
At least I’d scored a perfect set of notes. Jackpot?
“Anyway, thanks, Bren. Let’s just focus on class now.”
“O-okay.”
He quickly turned back to the board.
I alternated between the notes and the chalkboard, pressing my forehead with my hand.
‘Nope. Still can’t make sense of it.’
The board was already covered in complicated formulas, annotations, and explanations.
To me, they looked like advanced math—quantum physics, string theory, that kind of thing.
Professor Dellon continued enthusiastically, oblivious to my pain.
“With mana distortion, terrain changes occur when the X, Y, and Z axes are disrupted, creating new α and β axes…”
Now it felt like geometry, functions, even linear algebra were being dragged in.
“…”
Talent.
People often say magic requires innate talent.
‘Yeah, right.’
At least in this novel’s world, magicians weren’t determined by talent.
‘It’s just the guys who are good at math and physics that become archmages, spamming Hellfire and Teleport!’
Well… then again, being good at studying is a kind of talent too.
Anyway!
‘Author, seriously, you think this setting makes sense?’
“Ugh…!”
Thud.
I put down my pen and buried my face in my hands.
Bren flinched again beside me, but I ignored him.
“Sigh.”
I’d jotted down some of the alien formulas into my notebook, but…
‘Yeah, I’m never looking at this again.’
How can I study something I don’t even understand?
Forget it. Time to prepare.
To prepare for life outside the academy.
…So I gave up on studying.
Tap tap!
“Attention.”
Midway through class, Professor Dellon suddenly smacked the desk, grinning as he spoke.
“Today, we’ll be having a surprise quiz.”
The shocking announcement made the students panic.
“What?”
“Right now?”
“Finals are right around the corner! Why a quiz?”
Dellon calmly removed his monocle, set it on the lectern, stroked his beard, and said:
“Final exams are practical anyway. But you still need a written test. Call me old-fashioned if you want.”
“Seriously?”
“A written test? Out of nowhere?”
“You can’t just spring that on us!”
He leaned against the desk, smiling faintly.
“Alright, you’re right. Too sudden. I’ll give you five minutes. Use it to cram. In exactly five minutes, we begin. Start.”
“…”
“Ugh. This sucks.”
“Forget it, I’m doomed anyway. I’m going to the bathroom.”
Some students gave up and left.
Rustle, rustle!
“Professor, what’s the range?”
“Where are the questions from?”
Others flipped their books, starting last-minute cramming.
“Chapters 8 to 10. And today’s material is included.”
“Ughhh.”
The class quickly split into two groups.
And me?
“Test?”
I chuckled, leaning back in my chair.
‘I’m already screwed.’
With no foundation, there’s no way I could do a written test.
Bang bang!
“Time’s up! Everyone sit down!”
Dellon snapped his fingers.
Snap!
Papers flew off the desk and landed neatly on each student’s desk.
“The quiz begins now!”
He snapped his fingers again. A glowing sandglass appeared in the air above.
“Twenty minutes. No cheating, understood?”
He continued, but I wasn’t paying attention.
Instead—
‘Was that… magic?’
I stared in awe at the floating papers and sandglass.
“Oh, and you can leave once you finish.”
…What?
Leave as soon as I finish?
Well, there’s no point wasting time here anyway.
“Hmm.”
I looked down at the test sheet.
White was the paper, black was the ink.
“Yeah, I don’t understand a single word.”
I skimmed it just in case, but—
‘Nope. I’m out.’
Why sit here staring at something unsolvable?
Clatter.
I rose from my seat.
Swish!
Dozens of eyes darted toward me.
But this time…
“…?”
There was something different in their gazes.
What’s this?
“He… he’s already done?”
“Finished? Already?”
“Was Camon always that smart?”
Whispers spread across the room.
‘Damn it. I wish.’
Step, step.
I ignored them and walked straight to the lectern, handing over my paper.
“Hm? Already done?”
Thump.
Dellon casually accepted my paper, but when he saw it was completely blank, his brow arched.
“…Camon. What’s this?”
“A test paper, sir.”
I answered firmly.
He stared at me silently for a long moment.
“…”
Then he nodded slowly and murmured.
“Camon, mind stepping outside for a talk?”
“A talk? About what—”
“Just come along.”
Without waiting for my reply, he left the room.
I had no choice but to follow.
And right outside the classroom, Dellon abruptly asked:
“Camon. Are you planning to quit the academy?”
“…What?”
