The Last Place Hero's Return-Chapter 30: Busy Dealing With The Professors (2)

Fwoooosh!

I reached toward the roaring flames before me. Agonizing pain shot up my arm and spread throughout my body, as though my flesh was being incinerated. Every nerve screamed, every instinct begged me to stop, but I clenched my jaw and pushed forward.

A quiet groan almost slipped through my lips, but I forced it down and endured the pain. I had to keep my hand inside the blazing fire for five full minutes. Five minutes was probably nothing when it came to mana cultivation, but if one had to keep one’s hand plunged into searing flames for five minutes, it was a different story altogether. Most people would scream and yank their hand away if they just touched a candle flame, so it wasn’t hard to imagine the torment of holding one’s hand inside a raging fire for that long.

Despite my best efforts, a pained grunt escaped through clenched teeth. Although this fire wasn’t real but born of my mind, a construct of will and spirit, the searing agony it brought was no different from the real thing.

Just a little more, I thought.

I had only four chances a day to increase my mana through the Primordial Flame. To gain as much mana as possible, I had to draw out as much fire from it as I could during each session.

Five agonizing minutes passed, each stretching into eternity. Finally, I slowly pulled my hand out of the fire. Atop my palm, a tiny flame the size of a finger quietly flickered. It had grown bigger, I realized.

When I first began practicing this technique, the flames I extracted from the Primordial Fire were barely the size of a candle flame. Now, after relentless training, they had grown to the size of a finger. My skin was scorched, nerves frayed, and my mana network felt like it might crack, but it had grown. Progress, however small, was still progress.

Nevertheless, I looked up at the massive inferno in front of me—the all-consuming, chaotic blaze—and let out a dry chuckle. I was still far from enough to wield the fire itself. Even though I had been absorbing the fire’s power four times a day, literally dying each time to do so, the Primordial Flame embedded in my heart remained inert. It was like scooping up seawater with a ladle. What difference did it make to take in a flame the size of a candle, or even a finger, when the source was vast enough to engulf the world?

Still, someday, I’ll wield it, I said in my mind.

In any case, it wasn’t something I could solve by worrying about it now. So, I pushed those thoughts aside and slowly opened my eyes.

My awareness drifted back up from my mindscape, the burning pan fading away. What I saw before me was my dorm room, a worn bed, a table, and a single shelf. I stood up from the bed and did some light stretches.

Then I activated the mana embedded within my soul stigmata. “Let’s see how much mana I’ve gathered this time.”

That very instant, a torrent of energy surged through my veins, noticeably stronger than it had been when I first returned to this life. If a typical cadet possessed a mana level of 10, mine was at a level of 3—still below average, not even halfway there.

Good! I didn’t even have ten percent of it at the start, so this is a huge leap forward, I thought.

In absolute terms, while I was still lacking, my mana had tripled in just a few weeks after I had returned to this life. At this pace, I could catch up to the average cadet within two to three months, or maybe even sooner.

Just how the flame I could absorb had grown from the size of a candle’s flicker to that of a full finger, if I kept increasing the amount I could draw out, I could one day possess more mana than I ever dreamed of in my past life. Just imagining that future sent a shiver of excitement down my spine.

“No. Now’s not the time to get ahead of myself,” I muttered.

That was the future. In the present, I still didn’t even have half the mana of a standard cadet. It was nowhere near enough to face Astaroth. The demon’s seal was still intact, so his power likely hadn’t fully returned. But an Archbishop was a big deal. They were the pinnacle among tens of thousands of demons; underestimating any one of them would be fatal.

Suddenly, my eyes fell on the backpack in the corner of my room, where I had stored the mana-infused Seven Star Herb. I clicked my tongue and muttered, “Oh, right. I forgot to deliver this.”

I had found the herbs in a cave filled with ley lines, but with everything that had happened afterward, I had completely forgotten to deliver them to Professor Bastion. So, I thought I should visit him. Then I slung the backpack over my shoulder and headed outside.

***

I entered the laboratory, placed the herbs on the table, and said, “I’ve brought the Seven Star Herbs you requested.”

Dust floated through the stale air of the research lab. Professor Bastion let out a quiet exclamation as he looked over the table piled high with the mana-infused Seven Star Herb.

His eyes sparkled as he looked at me, twinkling like stars. “Even if this herb does grow naturally around the school, it’s not easy to find so much of it... You really gathered quite a lot.”

If I had to put his look into words, it would be something like, “Yes, as expected! You’re the only one worthy of being my assistant!”

Not happening, old man, I said to him in my mind.

I had never worked as a professor’s assistant before, but just thinking about the soulless eyes of the assistants I had seen wandering the campus was enough to tell me I wanted no part of that life.

I looked back at him and asked, “Is this amount enough?”

“We won’t know for sure until I start the actual process, but barring anything extreme, it should suffice.”

“And how soon do you think it’ll be finished?”

Now that I knew Astaroth had infiltrated the school, I had to get my hands on the completed Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion as soon as possible.

“The formula itself is already complete, so it shouldn’t take too long. I’d say... it should be ready before the Sealing Festival,” Professor Bastion answered.

“That’s a relief.”

“But tell me. What exactly are you planning to use this amplifier potion for?” Professor Bastion narrowed his wrinkled eyes. “Don’t tell me... you’re planning to use it during the cadet ranking evaluation, are you?”

“Excuse me?” I replied.

Does he seriously think I’ll go through all this trouble just to gain an edge in some internal school test? Well, I suppose it makes sense, I thought.

After all, Professor Bastion knew full well that I had been dead last in the overall cadet rankings for the past three years. It wasn’t surprising that he would jump to that conclusion.

I let out a chuckle and shook my head. “No need to worry. That won’t be happening.”

“But still...”

“If I ever use the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion during the evaluations, feel free to report me to the academy for cheating.”

Professor Bastion thoughtfully stroked his thick beard and gave a small nod. “Very well. If you’re that insistent, I won’t press further.”

I bowed politely. “Thank you for understanding.”

Then I took another look around his lab. It was still a chaotic mess, resembling more of a landfill than a research space. Honestly, anyone spending time here would probably get sick.

“The thought of drinking a Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion brewed in this dump is seriously unsettling,” I muttered to myself.

Considering how delicate and precise the process of crafting it probably was, especially for a potion that directly influenced the soul stigmata, the sheer state of this place made it impossible for me to trust that it would go well.

Professor Bastion moved toward the table. “Alright then, I’ll begin brewing rig—”

I cut him off. “Hold on a moment. First things first, we should clean this place.”

“Clean? What do you mean clean?” he asked.

“How long are you planning to leave your lab looking like a junkyard?”

Professor Bastion unhappily replied, “A junkyard!? Now that’s a bit harsh! I’ll have you know there’s a method to this organiz—”

I shut him down mid-sentence. “Pipe down, sir.”

Then I immediately got to work tidying up the lab. It had looked bad from the start, but as soon as I began cleaning, clouds of dust and piles of trash came pouring out. “God damn it! Even a pigsty would be better than this.”

Sighing, I grabbed a broom and rag and dove into the mess with speed and efficiency. All those part-time cleaning shifts I did over school breaks finally amounted to something. Working eight-hour days cleaning the academy had built up my skills. Little by little, the trash heap of a lab was transforming into something vaguely livable.

The professor looked at all this and asked, “Uh! Need a hand or something?”

“Just stay out of the way. You’ll only slow things down.” I warned him.

What help could I possibly expect from the guy who had let the lab get this bad in the first place? I waved him off, quite literally, and shooed him out of the lab.

Three grueling hours later, the cleaning war came to an end. As I looked at it, the words escaped my lips. “Phew! Now it actually looks like a place fit for humans.”

Professor Bastion let out a series of amazed gasps as he looked around his now-pristine lab, nearly unrecognizable compared to before. “Is... is this really my lab?”

“Whose else would it be?” I gave a chuckle and continued, “I’ve organized all the reagents over there. Your alchemical tools are on that shelf. I also sorted your research materials by category. You should go over them again when you get the chance, just to double-check.”

Suddenly, Professor Bastion grabbed my hand with a look of fiery enthusiasm. “You... you! As expected of my assistant!”

“No, I’m not,” I said. When did I ever agree to that?

“Ahem! Anyway, since you’ve put in such effort, I can’t, in good conscience as a professor, let it go unrewarded. I’ll treat you to lunch! Come along!” Professor Bastion grabbed my arm and dragged me along.

I tried to say, “Wait, hang on a second...”

But he seemed absolutely delighted with the state of the lab and wasn’t taking no for an answer. As for the place he took me, it was the faculty-exclusive cafeteria, reserved for professors and their direct assistants. It was a tier below the main hall’s buffet, but it still offered a refined menu, decently high-end compared to standard cadet fare.

As we entered the dining area, Professor Bastion announced with pride, “Go ahead, order whatever you want!”

That was when we ran into Professor Kane, who had just been about to enter the dining hall himself.

“Dale? What are you doing here?” he asked.

Professor Bastion looked at the newcomer. “You are...”

A heavy silence settled between the two professors.

Ah right! Professor Kane punched Professor Bastion in the face two years ago, I recalled.

I instinctively took a step back, recalling that incident. But before anything could escalate, Professor Bastion stepped forward, shielding me slightly, and said to Professor Kane, “Do you have some business with my assistant?”

“Assistant? Since when is Dale your assistant?” Professor Kane asked.

“He’s not officially one yet, but he’ll be joining me after graduation.”

I screamed in my mind, Excuse me? Professor Bastion? I already told you, I have no intention of being your assistant! Why do you keep declaring this without asking?

“Hah! You think Dale would go to you? Don’t make me laugh!” Professor Kane said.

This gave me relief. Yes! Finally, someone being reasonable! Set him straight, Professor Kane!

However, Professor Kane threw cold water on my hopes. “Dale is going to join me after graduation and lead the Warrior Division by my side!”

“What?”

Seriously? Not you too? I shouted at him internally.