Academy's Drunk Fighter-Chapter 23: Magic (2)

After barely surviving the mental trauma that was Mysteries and Magic, the next class on the schedule was [Ecological Analysis of the Otherworld].

Naturally, this one wasn’t all that fun either.

Like those topics that sound interesting but turn out to be exhausting, sleep-inducing slogs once you actually sit down and listen—this was one of those. Just a wall of theory and explanations.

Maybe it was just because I had zero prior knowledge, but still, the class moved way too fast.

“Er, well... the spiritual bodies—namely spirits—are composed of 57% hydrogen, 11% oxygen, 22% chlorite, 88% stellar matter, and 96% gravity.”

I ignored the fact that I had no clue what half of those components even were—and more importantly, why the hell does that add up to more than 100%?

But my courage wasn’t nearly high enough to raise my hand and ask.

I mean, come on—everyone else looked like they already knew this stuff. I'd just look like an idiot if I asked.

“Who would win in a fight between a spirit and a star-being? That’s a good question. But realistically, because of the dimensional differences and the fact that there’s no benefit to them fighting each other, such a thing would never happen.”

“Ah, are you referring to the Cosmopological Theory? Well, that—”

Before I realized it, I had zoned out hard. The whole lecture had slipped by me.

It’s weird—I could’ve sworn I used to be decent at studying back in high school. Am I just dumber now because I’m older? Or is it this new body that has shitty intelligence stats?

...Or maybe I was just an idiot from the beginning.

“Ugh. My head hurts.”

Also—been thinking this the whole time—but the professors here? Practically all of them have a few screws loose.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

The P.E. professor’s obsessed with muscle training. Another one’s a gambling addict. One can’t sleep. One’s a compulsive explainer. Another’s an idealist.

Most of them are just... clinically diseased in some way.

Maybe genius only emerges when something in your brain’s missing. Or maybe it’s the other way around?

It’s like the chicken and the egg: were they crazy first and then got good at their field, or did they get so deep into their field that it made them insane?

It’s a tough question.

Historically speaking, a lot of geniuses and legendary figures either died young or lived with at least one kind of mental illness, right?

So there’s definitely some kind of connection.

As I wandered through these random thoughts, I arrived at the next classroom, sat down, and braced myself.

Hopefully this subject would be at least a little more interesting.

With that small hope, I took my seat and began listening to the professor.

“Alright, everyone—eyes up front.”

The male professor slowly wrote his name on the board, then dove straight into the day’s topic.

“What is the ideal form of power? Let’s start with that big question. You there, student—why don’t you give us an answer?”

And the person he pointed to was—of course—me.

“Uh—m-me?”

“Yes! Anything that comes to mind! Give it a shot!”

“Ideal power, huh...”

I’d never really thought about it before. After a moment of hesitation, I answered.

“Isn’t it just when the strong beat the crap out of the weak?”

“Uh...”

The professor looked mildly startled—but that was the only answer I could come up with.

I mean, isn’t that what power is? The gap between the strong and the weak?

And it’s the strong who get to define the nature of that gap.

Power isn’t something that rages against injustice—it’s something forced downward, from above to below. The purest kind of authority.

At least, that’s how I see it.

“Well... I suppose that’s one way to think about it. But I think you may be defining power in a more physical sense than what I meant. Personally, I see it differently.”

He extended his arm toward the class as he spoke.

“To me, ideal power is something that never runs out—something sustained, something we can control through rules and systems. And it must be immensely powerful. That’s the kind of power I’m talking about. And right here—we have it.”

He lifted a large stone he’d brought with him.

It looked like it had jewels embedded inside—but if you looked closely, you’d see a faint aura swirling around it.

It looked like something that would definitely give you radiation poisoning if you touched it.

The professor placed it proudly on the table.

“As you all know, mana stones have deeply impacted every part of our lives—transportation, metallurgy, electricity, plumbing, energy, everything. And now, who can tell me where mana stones come from?”

“From magic beasts.”

“Ah, thank you.”

I knew plenty about mana stones myself.

In the game, they were practically essential for trading high-quality items or raising favorability with picky characters. You used them all the damn time.

And true to their name, mana stones were most commonly found near the heart of slain magic beasts.

“When magic beasts first appeared, they were living disasters. There were plenty of noble families and talented individuals around—but we simply weren’t prepared.”

Clack.

The mana stone gave off a soft hum as it sat on the table.

“People without any means to defend themselves died. And even those who had a way to fight back struggled with the sheer numbers. But what changed everything... was the mana stone, found near their hearts.”

“......”

“It was like when someone finds out hair loss can be cured with monster teeth. Or when a new super-powerful energy tonic gets discovered. Mana stones were bizarre—but extremely potent—resources.”

Sadly, I guess we still haven’t found a cure for hair loss in this world either.

“Once word got out that they were worth money, people who couldn’t even kill a single magic beast threw themselves into the hunt. Idiots.”

“Did they fail?”

“No, they succeeded.”

“Then why...?”

“They overhunted. The magic beasts started dying out. Isn’t that hilarious? Beings from beyond our world, bent on exterminating humanity—utterly crushed by greed and overwhelming numbers!”

The professor chuckled—like even he found what he’d said amusing.

“Sure, some of the higher-tier gates and beasts still pose a threat now and then. But that’s all. The gap has widened so much that top-ranked heroes around the world can now close even the highest-tier gates within a single day.”

Human beings—adaptable no matter where you put them.

Back in the day, humanity had to struggle endlessly and tremble in fear just to fight off their mortal enemies as a species. Now? We’ve reached a point where an individual can casually wipe them out.

Once that happens, the gap becomes impossible to bridge.

Hell, their hides and mana stones—once overflowing—are now rare enough to be traded like high-end commodities.

Unlike those games where the academy entrance ceremony always gets interrupted by a disaster or a gate opens up in dramatic fashion, this one stayed relatively peaceful for a reason.

Unless apocalyptic-level gates start opening simultaneously across the globe, there’s really not much to worry about.

“And not only that—the energy output from these creatures...! The value calculated from gathering all the mana stones is astronomical! Which is why some even tried farming magic beasts... though no one’s succeeded yet.”

“Wait, so are there people who raise magic beasts?”

“Ah, raising them is impossible, but I’ve heard that with special methods and close bonding from a very young age, it’s theoretically possible with magical beasts or divine beasts... but honestly, I don’t really see the point.”

Now hold on just a second—I do have a problem with that statement.

That’s basically a direct attack on beast tamers.

How could anyone just dismiss the dream of soaring through the sky on a wolf, tiger, or dragon like it’s nothing?

Just give up on being a dragon rider?

That’s not something you toss aside lightly—it’s romantic, damn it.

Besides, the storyline introduces a character later on who can tame magical beasts. It just hasn’t happened yet.

“Resources are always finite. Infinite power doesn’t exist. So, in the end, we’ll always need to find new resources—no matter the risk.”

“By risk, you mean...”

“The sunk cost. Like the massive investment of money and effort it takes to found a country or start a company. We’ll need to accept that risk.”

Something about this feels... off.

Maybe I’m just paranoid, but I’m pretty sure the kind of cost he’s talking about isn’t just monetary.

“Generating maximum profit with minimal cost—that’s the kind of power we’ll be learning about in this course.”

“......”

But before I could chew on that ominous remark any longer, the lecture moved right along to the next topic.

...

...

...

“So, in conclusion! We either ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) need to use existing mana stones more efficiently, or find entirely new resources! And your assignment: come up with a creative new way to use mana stones. That’s all.”

And just like that, the professor wrapped things up after another few dozen minutes of talking.

Compared to the other subjects, I actually found this one kind of interesting.

Sure, there were a few unsettling moments in his speech—but I figured they could be brushed off as dark humor.

Still, I had one more issue to deal with.

Sssk—

Crumpled in my bag, then slipping out into the light: a mess of lines, circles, and diagrams.

“Haaah...”

Yeah. I still have to finish that magic professor’s assignment.

I want to slack off, sure—but if I outright ditch the homework, it might disqualify me from getting a scholarship.

And the scholarship—that’s something I’d set my sights on from the very beginning. I’m not giving it up so easily.

But right now, I don’t exactly have any close friends around who’d help me out.

“In that case...”

The solution was simple.

“I’ll just have to find someone who will.”

Luckily, I know exactly one mage who can’t say no to someone asking for help.

One of my absolute favorite characters.

Even if, because of her personality, she’s the kind of person you’re never quite sure you’ll be able to have a normal conversation with once you meet her in real life.

Still—I knew where she’d be. So I started walking toward her usual spot.