“I see, so it’s finished…”
“In theory, yes, but without being able to make the proper adjustments, it will be impossible to finish.”
Roland stood before Arthur, the Lord of Albrook and son of the Duke. In his hands was a sketch of the accessory he planned to place on Arthur's mother, one that would allow her to see again without the help of tier four or five magic.
“My father is not going to like this.”
Arthur muttered, leaning back in his leather chair.
“He is already wary of anyone coming into the castle, and even I can’t visit Mother more than twice a year now…”
This was the main problem. Arthur’s mother was kept like a bird in a cage. To some, it seemed the Duke was being unreasonable, but Roland could see the logic behind it.
Protecting Aeloria was far easier within the safety of that stronghold. Someone wanted her dead, so the cage she found herself in was, to some, a necessary precaution. Until the person behind the assassination attempt was identified, letting her roam freely would be unwise, and Arthur understood that as well.
“If only we knew who was behind this…”
“There are many possibilities. Your father’s wives are all potential suspects, but without solid evidence, pointing fingers is a death sentence.”
Arthur sighed deeply, the weight of his noble lineage visibly pressing on his shoulders. He stared at the sketch on his desk, his eyes tracing the delicate runic patterns Roland had drawn.
“I know.”
Arthur’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“My half-brothers are possible suspects as well. There is no one in that house I can truly trust…”
Roland watched Arthur’s expression tighten. His noble friend was usually good at hiding his emotions and playing the role of a composed lord, but whenever the subject of his mother came up, his anger always found a way to show itself.
“Has Mary been able to gather any more information?”
Roland asked, glancing down at the drawing he had presented. It depicted an elegant accessory that could be worn over the face while still looking stylish enough for a noble lady.
“Nothing much. This assassination group seems to be very well connected, and none of the information brokers are even willing to investigate them…”
He nodded. It made sense.
“An organization willing to carry out murder contracts in a duke’s backyard must have powerful backing.”
“Regretfully, yes. We still managed to gather some information thanks to your efforts, but Mary is still looking into it. You have my gratitude, as always. For now, however, I need some time to think.”
The assassin he had captured had been through a great deal, and while they had managed to extract some useful information from him, much of it led to dead ends. The organization they were up against was exceptionally skilled at covering its tracks and avoiding exposure. Still, from what he had heard, there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel.
“I’m just doing my job.”
“You should stop being so modest.”
Arthur laughed, and for a brief moment, some warmth returned to his face.
“Modest? Wait until you see next month’s bill.”
Roland, in turn, took a jab at the finances, referring to how most of the city's revenue was funneled back into runic research and the continued expansion of its runic infrastructure.
“You might be the most expensive runic craftsman in the entire kingdom, but you always deliver results, so it’s hard to complain.”
Arthur shrugged with a chuckle, and soon the two parted ways. There was not much new within their territory. Theodore was scheming as always, but with the underground train becoming fully operational, the situation with the merchants had been resolved. Even after the fake bandit groups stopped appearing, the train remained the best method of transportation.
They just need to clear out those tunnels, and the subway system under this island can finally begin.
Roland thought to himself as he left Arthur's office. The project he had started with Halbrecht was still ongoing. He was not thrilled about meeting the man again, but they had been exchanging correspondence through the runic mailing system he had established. It was much faster than the spell birds used to carry letters, and at this stage of development, it was far safer since the technology was still unknown to the public.
"Now then... what's next?"
He mumbled to himself as he descended into the underground tunnels. The golem was almost finished and nearly ready for proper field testing. Its size was somewhat of a problem, as it stood close to ten meters tall. Luckily, if laid flat on the ground, it could still fit through the city's main portal gate.
The dimensions had been chosen specifically so it could fit through the standard gates, based on what he knew. In the past, when the Convocation was still in its early years, each academy transported its golems separately, which caused all kinds of problems.
Some smiths transported the individual parts by other means and assembled the construct at the event. Others simply had their golems walk the entire distance, and many never arrived. There were countless reasons for the failures. Monster attacks, bandits, and even rival academies sabotaging the route by destroying the only bridge leading to the venue. Eventually, when portal technology became more widely available, the organizers decided to use it to transport the constructs instead, making the competition fair for everyone.
‘I haven't checked up on those guys for a while. I wonder how they're doing…’
Roland had devoted most of his time to leveling and golem production. Now that the project was almost complete, he finally had the chance to visit the students who had been using the support devices he had created. By this point, every student taking part in the competition had received the base model, but he had not really had the time to see how the other teachers and professors had implemented his teaching methods.
"Welcome, Deputy Professor."
He nodded to the mage responsible for the teleportation gate and made his way forward. Around two months remained until the competition, and the academy was once again filled with students. Everyone who had left for vacation had returned, and the new academic year had begun.
‘Each time I return here, their reactions to me become stranger…’
At first, all he saw was fear in their eyes. Whenever he walked by, they parted before him, pressing themselves against the walls or turning their heads away. Now, however, they could not stop staring or pointing at him.
"It's the Deputy Professor!"
"Hey, Deputy Professor! Can I be your disciple!?"
"No, I want to be his disciple!"
His infamy had transformed into outright fame. He had a suspicion of why. The students under his direct supervision had undergone a drastic change.
"He even managed to change that Elian..."
He almost flinched when he heard Elian's name. Before assembling the team, he had no idea the young man had become so infamous. His magical aptitude had always been exceptional, but his nerves often got the better of him, causing him to fumble at the worst possible moments. That habit had apparently led to more than a few self-inflicted injuries while learning new spells and, on occasion, had nearly dragged other people into the accidents as well.
‘Had he really improved that much?’
Roland could not judge the extent of Elian's progress. He only monitored the training chamber the boy occasionally used and watched recordings of the team's practice sessions while working his way through the underground dungeon. Perhaps his standards for teenagers were simply too high, because rumors of their rapid improvement seemed to be everywhere.
‘Am I being too harsh on them?’
Once again, he questioned whether his training methods were too draconian. At their age, he had already been running his own shop in Albrook, though he had the advantage of possessing the mind of an adult from another world. He was not entirely sure what should be expected of ordinary teenagers, but judging by the results, the training he had designed was paying off.
"Ah, Professor Wayland, just look!"
The moment he arrived, Arion greeted him enthusiastically and pointed a paw toward one of the monitors. Roland looked over and saw Elian practicing his spellcasting. The boy was performing far better than before. He was not the only one, either. The number of monitors had doubled since Roland's last visit, and each displayed young mages hard at work.
It was not only the group Roland and his sister personally trained. There were younger students and older ones as well. All of them were dodging magical paralysis bolts while maintaining their concentration and casting spells.
"You've made more?"
"Indeed! The Vice Headmaster approved the construction of additional chambers, and we even incorporated them into this year's curriculum. The results speak for themselves."
Arion beamed with pride as he pointed to another monitor displaying a spreadsheet. It compared the casting times of students who trained in the new chambers with those who followed the traditional methods. Those using the new devices had not only improved their spellcasting speed but had also significantly reduced the time needed to prepare their spells.
Even the tier one students were achieving results that were normally not seen until after obtaining a tier two class. They had not reached that level yet, but they were steadily closing the gap, much like Roland had once done by creating tier two runes despite only possessing a tier one class.
"Though there is a small problem now..."
"Oh? There is?"
"Indeed. The energy required to maintain the illusion chambers is staggering. There is not enough capacity for every student, so a waiting line has formed."
"That is a problem... You could restrict access through a merit system, but that would hurt the students at the bottom the most."
Roland muttered the thought to himself, though everyone nearby heard him and gave him puzzled looks. He knew exactly why. He came from a more modern world, one where people were not simply left behind if they fell behind the others. At the very least, everyone was usually given an equal opportunity to prove themselves.
That way of thinking was still uncommon in this world. It was considered perfectly normal for wealthy or exceptionally talented students to monopolize the training chambers. To Roland, that approach made little sense, especially for an academy that competed with others. The more the school invested in its students as a whole, the greater its prestige would become, making it far more attractive to high-profile nobles choosing between rival academies.
“We could, but as you say, Professor, that would make it less fair for everyone. But what should we do then? There is no way to increase the academy's mana output. We would need to find another relic or build more towers…”
Arion did not know what to do, but to Roland, the answer was quite simple.
“Why does it need to be in an illusory chamber in the first place?”
“Oh... you're right!”
Sometimes it felt like some people were too focused on what was directly in front of them to notice the obvious solutions. In the first place, he had used the illusory chamber because it was the fastest way to achieve the results he wanted. Nothing was stopping them from recreating those training chambers through conventional means and runic magic.
“Here.”
“This is...”
Arion's catlike eyes went wide with shock as he looked over the detailed schematics of various training rooms. Roland had recreated every variation he had used to help the students train with runic devices, designing each one to be as inexpensive as possible. While hunting in the dungeon, he had plenty of time between monster fights, so coming up with this solution had been fairly trivial.
“By the old magic gods, this is wonderful. If we build these, the cost of maintaining them would be much lower, and we are already using the golemic puppets, so that is not even an added expense! I need to go to the Vice Headmaster!”
Arion floated out of the room while the other teachers continued applauding just as they had before. Roland had already grown accustomed to this level of flattery, though that did not mean he appreciated it. At least it made it easier to hand off much of his work to the eager teachers, with the most enthusiastic of them all being the stuttering Stephen.
“D-Deputy Professor.”
“Stephen... these are...”
As he had many times before, the man brought over a massive stack of papers, though this time they were organized into several thick binders.
“I have c-calculated all the i-improvements in the s students' performance, their casting speed, mana efficiency, and their response t-times to u-unexpected stimuli!”
Stephen stammered, pushing his thick glasses up his nose as he struggled to balance the heavy stack.
“Didn't I tell you to just input all of this into the runic operating system instead?”
Roland asked, as he much preferred reviewing the data through the runic system instead of sorting through stacks of paper. To his surprise, the assistant teacher already had an answer prepared.
“D-don't worry, sir. I already input e-everything just the way you like it!”
“I see... so you did both...”
“Stephen, I really appreciate your hard work, but you should take better care of yourself and stop drinking those stamina potions.”
Roland could see the dark circles beneath the young man's eyes. While they could be treated with healing elixirs, there was a limit to how much strain the body could endure. Even though the young man was doing excellent work, Roland did not want him to shorten his lifespan by overworking himself.
‘I wonder... is this how people see me whenever I work too much?’
The image of his worried wife came to mind, along with his assistant. Whenever he worked through the night or for days on end, they would give him disapproving looks, but they knew they could not really change his mind, so eventually they stopped trying. The only exception was his wife Elodia, who would sometimes drag him out of the workshop by force whenever he stayed there for too long.
“I-I'm fine, really. T-this is all to gain more knowledge!”
“Sure, you can gain more knowledge tomorrow. Go eat something and get some sleep. Until then, your research privileges are revoked.”
It seemed that he needed to put his foot down on this issue. This man was not a tier three class holder, and his body was nowhere near as resilient as Roland's. Roland himself could more or less go without sleep for close to a week by now.
“N-no. A-anything but that!”
He had expected some resistance, but before he could shake his head and refuse again, the man dropped to all fours and started begging as though Roland were some villain trying to steal his child.
“Please, Deputy Professor, do not take away my rune terminal access! Anything but that!”
Surprisingly, Stephen was no longer stuttering while pleading to keep his research privileges, but Roland could not relent now. The other teachers were watching him, and if he showed that he could be swayed by emotion, they would surely exploit it in the future. Before long, he would have crowds of teachers clinging to his legs in the hallways, begging for more research funding.
“My decision is final. You can either take a break now and return tomorrow morning, or have your access revoked for another three days. The choice is yours.”
“B-but... just some more research... a few more hours.”
“No. And if you keep arguing, I'll revoke your access for a whole week.”
Stephen let out a quiet, defeated whine, his shoulders slumping as he slowly pushed himself up from the floor. He looked like a man who had just been sentenced to exile, but beneath Roland's unyielding, glowing visor, he finally nodded, grabbed his coat, and shuffled out of the research room.
The remaining teachers watched the exchange with a mixture of awe and terror. Roland ignored their stares and turned his attention to the monitors near the main desk. There he found the five students he cared about most, the party that included his sister.
‘They really have improved. If this keeps up, victory shouldn't be difficult.’
He smiled beneath his helmet as he watched Lucienne move through the illusory landscape. She darted around with far more confidence than before, using spells to enhance her physical abilities. With the support device, the process was both simple and effective.
She could now keep track of the enemies thanks to her improved Clairvoyant abilities, while the other students protected her well. With each passing day, they looked more and more like a proper adventuring party, though there was still room for improvement.
‘Good. Everything is progressing well. Now I just need to help them level up before the event starts, and we should be ready to go.’
Roland stepped away from the screens. He had already planned a short training expedition for all the participants. They would spend a few days fighting real monsters, and once that was over, they would be more or less ready for the convocation.