Chapter 50: Stalkers of the Academy
Time remaining until the first class — 3 days.
===============================================================
Saintess Tara hated the Church of the Goddess.
She loathed the boring and useless formalities, the complicated and tangled procedures, the constraints that dictated how a Saintess should behave, the silence that seemed to suffocate the air, and the endless stream of words demanding compliance.
A Saintess must be modest. A Saintess must set an example for the believers. A Saintess must not be promiscuous. A Saintess must use proper and beautiful language…
A veritable mountain of demands loomed over her.
Someone once pointed out that she should be grateful for her dramatic elevation from commoner to Saintess. After all, what was the problem when she no longer had to worry about going hungry for the rest of her life?
Another soul chimed in, wondering how she could refuse the tender kindness of the gods with her petty human emotions. Didn’t she feel lucky to be bestowed with the most glorious role?
And yet another declared that since it had come to this, wouldn’t it be better to just go with the flow? What’s done is done, right?
However, Tara had never wished for any of the things they laid out. Not a single one.
Miss Tara, the former clothing store girl, understood the delicate principles of commerce. Demanding payment while pushing something unnecessary into someone’s face? That was called coercion!
The one tiny thing that Tara wanted wasn’t granted under any circumstances, yet they showered her with offers of money, status, and honor, saying “How about it? Isn’t it nice?” It was utterly infuriating.
So, Saintess Tara became a bit twisted.
She resolutely decided to act in direct opposition to the wishes of the Church.
===============================================================
According to the rules laid out for the Saintess of the Order, the Saintess’s attire should be designed to be modest and conceal her figure.
This was supposed to prevent various pitfalls—like the Saintess falling in love and eloping, or dealing with unruly unsophisticated folks swarming her while she was out doing charity work in the back alleys.
Since they said “Don’t do it,” she decided she would do it!
Using a whopping 200% of her clothing store experience, she tailored her voluminous Saintess dress until it was skin-tight. So tight that her navel practically waved hello. And of course, she generously sliced open the neckline.
She also ripped off the sleeves to show off her shoulders and armpits, because the rules made it explicitly clear not to display them casually.
As for underwear? She bought some semi-transparent black ones tied together with string—again, because the rules stated that underwear should be opaque and definitely not tieable.
The hem of her skirt? She gave it a daring thigh-high slit. Hips and even panty straps were now on display, because the rules said that was unacceptable too.
Gritting her teeth, she did everything she was told not to do.
“…Is this a dress, or a rag?”
Of course, the embarrassment was unbearable for the one wearing it!
But she didn’t back down. For the sake of smudging mud in the Church’s face, she was willing to endure some shame. After repeatedly wearing it, she even began to adapt.
Thus, the monster known as the “Couple Destroyer” was born. Just like sunflowers turning toward the sun, as she walked down the street, half the pedestrians turned their heads in her direction.
And with that, a few couples’ blissful romance crumbled to dust.
Tara’s attempts to outsmart the Church of the Goddess didn’t stop there. She dropped all formalities in her speech and loaded her dialogue with casualness. When a noble offered a hefty donation asking for the Saintess’s blessing, she silently cursed them to baldness in her mind.
(The only exception was when a newborn baby was involved. For that, she graciously bestowed her blessing with complete sincerity.)
Her room turned into a dumpster fire, with half-eaten snacks strewn atop the carpet. She ignored the priests’ pleas to attend prayer meetings—Nope, not going!—and skipped volunteer work altogether.
She perpetually scowled and glared at the people around her. When greeted, she treated them like transparent walls. If cursed, she retorted back. She even tried to spread scandals by mingling with men, but that proved a bridge too far.
Still, given her attire, rumors spread faster than wildfire, even without her doing much.
The reason the Saintess of the Church of the Goddess suddenly found herself at the Academy was precisely to manage this rebellious spirit. Unable to handle her defiance, the Church exiled her to the Academy, hoping she might find redemption.
Thus, an incorrigibly rude Saintess, clad in extremely provocative attire, made her grand appearance at the Academy.
===============================================================
This peculiar routine of the Saintess closely resembled that of a “salary thief.” A classic case of warming the chair—all she did was wake up, attend classes, and then sleep. Since the Academy hadn’t even started yet, her days were devoid of any middle ground.
Wake up, sleep; repeat.
If boredom struck, she strolled to the library, seeking solace in books. If she still had time afterward, she pondered how she could upgrade her Saintess attire, which, let’s be real, retained about 45% of its original form. It had reached a point where a mere twitch could spell disaster for its structural integrity; careful adjustments were vital.
The Saintess had more responsibilities than anyone could anticipate. She had to show up at various holy venues, and in instances of major events, she was obliged to lead priests and paladins to address issues. Gratitude letters were required for large donations too.
Since she pushed most of those responsibilities onto her subordinates, she found herself with plenty of spare time.
Amidst the monotony of her routine…
The great Panty and Demonic Sword incident had just unfolded.
The calamity on the balcony was very much ongoing. With the Demonic Sword she had picked up, she twirled it in mid-air, pondering who the heck did this.
A Demonic Sword was a serious crime!
The reason was simple: it was exceedingly immoral and destined for destruction. Attempts to infuse consciousness into weapons date back to ancient times, but effectively trapping a soul inside a weapon? Only one method had truly succeeded: severely messing up someone’s afterlife!
A soul imprisoned in a lifeless slab of metal would experience endless agony. They might think, but for them to move? Forget it! It resembled being trapped in a coffin, unable to twitch even a finger.
To that end, a “nice” Egosword had no right to exist.
No matter how pure a soul might be, being cooped up in a tight spot for about 300 years would shatter anyone’s sanity. The ultimate fate of all Egoswords? A soulless Corrupted Demonic Sword.
Thus, the mere fact that it could talk was sufficient cause to deem it a Demonic Sword. After all, there was no other way to create one, aside from shoving a soul inside it. And that was precisely why she sealed it upon hearing just the first line!
“Is this a provocation?”
If someone had simply tossed a Demonic Sword her way and walked away, she might assume it was merely annoyance creeping up amid the Church’s absurdity. But smashing her laundry rack and swiping her underwear screamed provocation in massive neon letters!
How on earth would she catch the culprit? Just as Saintess Tara mused on this unraveling mystery, a light knock knock sounded at her door. A female priest peeked through the gap, face timid as a mouse.
“U-Um, Saintess…”
“I’m not going. Whatever it is you want from me, count me out!”
“U-Um, they just paid for a consultation fee, wanting to meet with you, so…”
“I said I’m not going! You really want to see me add another slash to my Saintess attire?”
The mere thought of her threatening whoosh made the priest’s face go pale. Yet, this was an important matter that couldn’t be simply brushed aside; she took a deep breath and continued, squeezing her eyes shut for courage.
“P-Professor… Professor Alejandro has something urgent to say!”
“A professor?”
Alejandro Menuba—the guy in charge of “Introduction to Basic Elements.”
He seemed talented but was a thorn in her side. His accent starkly reeked of self-adoration; his narcissism was grand, making even a casual glance at him feel like getting hit by a truck. It was as though half the world must fancy him; meeting him was the last thing she wanted.
But he was a professor. If an ordinary home paid a hefty consultation fee that could make their knees buckle, she had to face him. It was vital to roast the Church, but being true to herself also mattered.
Fair trade should be honored.
If a fitting price was paid without any discounts, the goods rightly came with it.
So, Saintess Tara strapped the Demonic Sword around her waist and headed to the reception room.
===============================================================
Professor Alejandro stroked his mustache as he spoke with great seriousness.
“There’s surely sorcery involved.”
“?”
“I pondered for quite a while. How could someone like me, who reached the Metamorphosis realm, fall prey to the illusion of a wizard who hasn’t even made it to that level? Then this morning, as sunlight streamed in through the window, a ray of light brushed past my mind. It’s undoubtedly the Goddess’s grace!”
“But there isn’t any sunlight in the Goddess’s symbols, though.”
Professor Alejandro didn’t give a whit about that. He continued, lost in his thoughts like someone possessed. Tara quietly raised a mana barrier. After all, he was practically showering her with spit as he talked.
“Just at that moment, I heard it clearly… ‘Alejandro, don’t despair! That Purple Tower wizard used sorcery! Yes, black wizards use the souls of poor victims to boost their magical effects,’” he raved. “That scoundrel must be using black magic! No doubt about it!”
“Okay, so… what now?”
“The professor who just infiltrated our Academy disguised as one of us is, in reality, a vile black wizard! I shall report him! For the safety of our students and the future of the Empire, I cannot simply stand idly by! We must act quickly, and if he senses we are onto him, erasing any traces—what then?”
Thanks to a riveting 30-minute soliloquy on how he hadn’t lost because of lack of skill, Tara managed to grasp the entire story. It appeared that the new teacher in charge of “Countermeasures to Illusion Magic” had unearthed some issues with Alejandro.
Tara couldn’t help but shrug. It was probably just another dramatic overreaction spurred by Alejandro’s perpetual inferiority complex. This wasn’t the first time such cringeworthy incidents had occurred—Alejandro tended to scream to authorities about four times a year.
So, she knew the formula by now.
Whoever it was, she’d head to the Purple Tower wizard, saying, “Please wrap up a chocolate for Professor Alejandro or something as a warm gesture.” Just like that, everything would get sorted out!
He cooled down just as quickly as he exploded. If the Purple Tower wizard did even a smidgeon of lip service, the storm would dissipate. He would likely say something like, “Your talent shines like a star! I apologize for my misunderstandings.” He’d probably fawn all over.
So, she would need to meet him, huh.
She let Professor Alejandro’s rant fly in one ear and out the other, declaring the end of the consultation, and rose from her seat. Maybe a pleasant stroll while hunting down the Purple Tower wizard would do her good.
===============================================================
Meanwhile, at the same time…
Black Wizard Bennett believed a thorough investigation into the Purple Tower wizard was a necessity. He pondered exactly how the Second Prince’s faction intended to attack the Third Prince and when it would all unfold. The more specific information he gathered, the easier it would be for him to exploit.
Their ploy couldn’t hinge solely on the Demonic Sword. The Purple Tower wizard’s eye for the ladies, his seemingly random visits to lingerie shops, and those little antics—all must harbor some meaning.
The wizard still held myriad secrets. And what was the proper way to unearth those secrets? Stalking, of course! Bennett donned the Academy uniform and blended into the throng.
He’d follow the Purple Tower wizard at a suitable distance.
===============================================================
Meanwhile, at the same time…
Niolle sat contemplating the panties she had “acquired.” She had to return them—but how? First off, who was the rightful owner? Since they were hanging from the balcony’s laundry rack, the voice coming from inside the balcony door must belong to the owner of the panties!
She momentarily envisioned the scenario: approaching the Church of the Goddess building, whiteboard in hand. And then—
[Looking for the owner of these undergarments!]
Is what she would hold aloft, parading around.
That mental image? Oh, no way! No matter how she thought about it, it felt ridiculous. Much better to return them quietly at night. Niolle folded the panties safely away.
Then came her second dilemma.
It was regarding the second prince’s wicked schemes. A colossal storm threatened to engulf the Academy… Many would die or be dragged away. Innocent lives would inevitably get caught up. With the burden of royal blood, the aftermath could only be dire.
[Can’t I stop this?]
She scrawled on the whiteboard. Staring at the words, she pondered deeply. Could she—a tad sharp but nothing special—stand against the storm to protect the peace of the Academy?
“…”
No, she wasn’t alone.
The man who ran off with the Demonic Sword. He claimed to have stolen it because he believed it was valuable, but that was a head-scratcher upon reflection.
How did he even know it was a Demonic Sword?
To Niolle, the longsword he left on the balcony looked utterly ordinary. Did she not chase after him, believing he was burying a person? She only realized it was a Demonic Sword after he declared it so.
In Niolle’s view, the man seemed intent on thwarting the Second Prince’s evil plans. Running with the buried Demonic Sword could only signify such intentions. Perhaps he aligned with righteousness.
Mistaking her for an ally of the Second Prince, he had sprinted away. However, if they crossed paths again, they could clear the misunderstanding. She could propose they unite in stopping the impending bloodbath at the Academy.
To seek that man again…
She needed to track down those who had buried the Demonic Sword. The wizard and the beauty—both were crucial to this event. Let’s follow them.
She resolved to gather information to dismantle their evil plan.
If that man was similarly endeavoring to halt the Second Prince’s schemes, he would inevitably pursue the wizard. There was a fair chance they would meet again during the pursuit. Alright, fighting! You’re not alone, Niolle! Let’s muster our strength!
Niolle sprung to her feet, fully energized, setting off in search of the dynamic duo—the wizard and the beauty.
===============================================================
“We’ve got stalkers. Three of them.”
“Why are three people stalking a new Academy professor?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. What on earth had I done to attract three people to tail me? I hadn’t even held my first class yet!
My site has received a lot of DMCA notices, lol. From now on, I will update the MTL on https://darkmtl.com/.
The site is fast and lightweight because there are no ads yet. However, the theme is different from Cybor-TL, so take some time to familiarize yourself.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.