Chapter 18
“Hmm?!”
Baroness Bulem was startled.
“Idnia, why are you awake? No—how?”
This illusion magic had been cast directly by Baroness Bulem using a crystal, and normally, even the most talented rookie magicians wouldn’t be able to escape it. It was meant to fully ensnare the viewer.
Yet Idnia broke through the illusion with her overwhelming resistance to magic.
“Ah, um… I just need to go to the restroom. Is that okay?”
“Oh, is that all? Yes, of course.”
Baroness Bulem didn’t think much of it.
‘If the urge is strong enough, even a novice could shake off a powerful illusion like that.’
If Idnia had ended up doing her business right there while under the spell, it would’ve been utterly humiliating.
‘Well, considering who her mother is, even if that had happened, it would’ve been just desserts. Still, she’s a young woman. No matter how much I resent her lineage, I wouldn’t want to see her disgraced in such a vulgar way.’
Baroness Bulem was, after all, a noblewoman.
Even if Idnia was the daughter of her sworn enemy, she didn’t wish to stoop to such petty vengeance.
When Idnia returned from the restroom with a rather reluctant expression and sat down again, Baroness Bulem cleared her throat.
“You’ll likely finish later than the others, so I’ll cast it at double speed this time.”
“Yes… please do.”
Idnia nodded.
And once more, Baroness Bulem cast the illusion spell. But then—
“Ahhh!”
Again, Idnia broke free of the illusion shortly afterward.
As soon as she came to, she began rubbing her arms and legs, as though she’d seen bugs crawling on her.
‘Ugh, this is so cringeworthy! What century is this illusion from?!’
Just watching it made her feel secondhand embarrassment.
The illusion showed a farmer drafted into the war convincing his lazy comrades to follow orders, achieving merit, and finally returning to his village a hero.
But the storyline was filled with clichés and outdated sentimentality. Idnia couldn’t bear it and shattered the illusion.
Baroness Bulem frowned.
“Restroom again, Miss Idnia?”
“N-no. I just, um… got goosebumps all of a sudden.”
“Hmm… was the depiction of war too brutal? There shouldn’t have been anything like that…”
“……”
“Or are you perhaps trying to test your own resistance to magic against my illusions? Are you doubting my skills as a professor?”
“N-no, not at all.”
Idnia began to sweat nervously.
Of all people, why did she have to do this in front of Baroness Bulem—the one professor who already had it out for her?
But if she had to keep watching more of those painfully old-fashioned illusions, she honestly didn’t know if she could endure it.
And then, the other students began to stir.
“Sniff, that was so moving!”
“Mother… I miss you too!”
“……”
Idnia looked on, dumbfounded, as her classmates reacted with deep emotion to what seemed to her like some ancient propaganda film.
Then it hit her—these kids were born and raised in this world. Unlike her, who had been saturated with every genre of media on 21st-century Earth, they had never seen anything like this before.
To these emotionally unjaded students, the illusion was deeply affecting.
“Hm. As expected, everyone seems to have had a profound spiritual experience from just one session.
Of course, no one becomes a master overnight, but if you continue with this course, your mana will definitely increase.”
“That’s amazing!”
“Wow, Dunais Academy really is something! Worth every gold coin!”
The students were impressed with the lesson’s effectiveness, as well as its novelty and usefulness.
Idnia, meanwhile, was dumbfounded.
*‘These kids would cry at a public service announcement!
But wait… if this actually boosts your mana… am I doomed? I wasn’t moved at all—I wanted to crawl out of my skin!’*
Idnia was starting to fear she simply wasn’t cut out to be a mage.
Baroness Bulem, too, was left puzzled.
*‘Even if she is the daughter of that woman… she—or rather, the Church—probably paid a hefty tuition.
If she’s really just struggling to concentrate because of magic-related motion sickness or some kind of mana resistance conflict, I, as her professor, have to understand and address it appropriately.’*
But then—
‘Huh?’
In that brief moment, she felt a change in Idnia’s mana. It seemed more stable now.
Could it be that she experienced something profound within that illusion?
*‘Was it a soul-shaking revelation?
So shocking that her mind rejected the illusion and kicked her out?’*
If so, it would mean Idnia had incredible sensitivity.
Highly sensitive individuals possess great magical potential, but their resistance to spells—especially illusions—is often quite poor.
They’re easily fooled by illusions and susceptible to magic that absorbs or agitates mana.
They’re like narrow, deep wells—easily disrupted if something blocks the flow.
*‘That kind of sensitivity isn’t ideal in a mage, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll keep an eye on her.
She’s not particularly charming, nor is she someone I’d want to invest extra effort in.
Still… that Flora’s daughter has such sensitivity…
If she had turned out to be a magic prodigy, I might’ve felt some pain in my heart.
No, a professor shouldn’t think this way. But I’m only human.’*
Baroness Bulem, striving to remain fair, concluded the illusion projection class.
“Now then, that’s enough of the illusion crystal for today. Watching too many in a row won’t bring better results.
If you continue to cultivate your emotions and willpower, your mana will surely grow stronger. Ohoho.”
Seeing Idnia clearly struggling with the lesson left Baroness Bulem rather pleased—and she chuckled softly.
Early semester courses were designed to be intense and fast-paced to establish the basics of magic quickly.
Which meant—after returning from the restroom, Idnia’s next class was once again with Baroness Bulem.
This time, it was Basic Magical Theory.
Idnia, still reeling from her earlier failure, was in a daze.
To others, the illusion crystal had been fun and moving—but to her, it had been torture.
Did this mean she was fundamentally unfit to be a mage?
“Please… let it go well this time.
I came all the way to Dunais. If I flunk out and get expelled… there goes my scholarship…”
Not just the money, but the hopes of everyone in her hometown who believed she’d succeed would be dashed.
The professor for Basic Magical Theory was, once again, Baroness Bulem.
“Hmhm. It seems many introductory courses are assigned to me, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me early in the semester.
If any of you end up failing, you’ll keep seeing me in remedial—”
