Yi-Han’s friends shouted in unison, firmly rejecting his suggestion.

Surprised by their intense reaction, he asked, “Why?”

“There’s no reason why—it’s just a no!” Nilria waved her hands in disgust at the thought of divination.

Gainando nodded in agreement. “Yi-Han, plenty of mages have ruined their lives from bad divination attempts. You shouldn’t depend on potions like that.”

“Didn’t you ask me for one before the last exam?”

Gainando pretended not to hear, looking away. Yi-Han figured he might get better answers from the alchemy experts. Maybe Yonair and Priestess Shiana had a more professional opinion.

“No way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“…”

Yi-Han looked a little disheartened.

“After all that work…”

“Wardanaz, I see it differently,” said one of his Blue Dragon Tower friends. “Sure, using it too often could be risky, but wouldn’t it be beneficial to use it occasionally when we really need it?”

“Thanks… Wait, no.”

Yi-Han froze as his friends gave him an intense, almost crazed look.

‘These guys look a bit unhinged.’

“What’s wrong, Wardanaz? I could go grab it for you now if you want?”

“N-No, it’s not finished yet.”

* * *

Professor Alpen Knighten’s brow furrowed slightly as he glanced around the lecture hall. As the weekend neared, students’ attention usually started to drift, but today they were especially distracted.

“Everyone, settle down.”

“If we do end up getting outside…”

“No, arson’s a terrible plan.”

“But when else would we get to set something on fire?”

The professor sighed at the students’ unusually rebellious attitude. “Since you’re all so unfocused today, let’s switch to a short quiz…”

“We’re so sorry, Professor!”

“Shut up, all of you!” Students who dreaded the idea of a test immediately silenced their chattering friends. Gainando, who had been sneaking a card game under his desk, took a direct hit from a Magic Missile and collapsed.

As silence returned to the hall, Professor Alpen nodded approvingly and resumed his lecture.

“Precision in calculations is crucial to spell preparation, and if you lack this foundation, you’ll find it difficult to advance. Once you reach your second year, you’ll start leading your own magical research…”

Casting spells and waving wands wasn’t all there was to magic. A proper mage prepared reagents, constructed magical diagrams, and calculated mana flows. A mage without these skills would never truly excel.

“Today, we’ll be examining the plans for the renowned gate of Castle Ganistalas, also known as *The Miracle of the Three Mages*. Many of you may already be familiar with this famous gate…”

Gainando tilted his head, curious. “Why is it called the Miracle of the Three Mages?”

The professor, patient as ever, didn’t show annoyance at the question. “The lord’s treasury was nearly empty due to a series of revolts and raids. By the time they rebuilt the gate, they had only one-tenth the usual budget.”

Bam!

Yi-Han slammed his fist onto his desk in outrage.

“How could they do that?”

“…”

“Is it really that upsetting?” Gainando stared, shocked at his usually composed friend’s reaction.

But Professor Alpen nodded, understanding Yi-Han’s indignation. “Indeed, it is infuriating. It’s a tragic piece of history. If others had helped the lord, things would’ve been resolved much sooner… Nevertheless, the three mages, despite these adverse conditions, managed to complete the gate. It was truly a miracle. Today, we’ll be studying that gate’s blueprint.”

As the professor handed out the blueprints, the students took them with interest. But Yi-Han wasn’t as enthused.

‘This is supposed to be inspirational?’

The lord had slashed the budget by ninety percent, forcing the mages to pour their blood, sweat, and wisdom into getting the job done. Wasn’t the real lesson here to analyze and avoid such terrible circumstances, not celebrate “learning from their wisdom”?

As Yi-Han grumbled internally, he absentmindedly jotted down notes.

“Wardanaz.”

“!”

Yi-Han’s heart skipped a beat as the professor called his name. Had his inner thoughts been that obvious?

“Yes?”

“There’s no need for you to look at that.”

“N-No, why not? I have great respect for the three mages and their miracle. I want to be a mage like them,” Yi-Han blurted, trying to cover his tracks.

Professor Alpen looked at him approvingly.

Unlike many mages who wasted reagents without a second thought, the young Wardanaz seemed to have a grand vision.

“A noble sentiment… but you’re excused.”

“Why?”

“Because you already covered this material on your midterm.”

“…”

“…”

Not only Yi-Han but even Yonair, who was busy sketching and calculating, dropped his pen in shock.

Did he just hear that correctly?

“I-I see.”

While his friends looked on in astonishment, Yi-Han maintained a professional demeanor, nodding as if he’d expected this all along.

Recalling his “special” midterm still made him question his professor’s sanity. But telling him outright, “You’re insane,” didn’t seem wise.

‘It’s just a professor’s privilege, I suppose.’

“Come with me.”

“Yes, sir.”

While the others studied the blueprint, Yi-Han followed Professor Alpen out of the lecture hall.

A cold winter sky sparkled through Einroguard’s windows as they walked.

‘Could I throw a snowball at him if it snowed?’

Creak—

Professor Alpen opened the door to a room, motioning for Yi-Han to sit. Yi-Han quickly shook off his thoughts about snowballs and sat down.

Unlike the professor’s usual room, this one lacked cozy furniture and everyday items. It contained only a large communication artifact, similar to one Yi-Han had seen in the skeleton principal’s office.

Crackle—

“Administrator Knighten.”

The people appearing in the mirror greeted Professor Alpen. He shook his head, correcting them. “I’m no longer an administrator—just call me professor.”

“Oh, my apologies.”

‘Who are these people?’

Yi-Han studied the group in the mirror with curiosity, wondering why the professor was connecting him with them.

“You confirmed before, but I’ll ask once more to be certain. Are you the ones contracted for the fortress project at Pocketknife Pass?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Is this the student who will…”

“Yes, that’s him.”

At the professor’s confirmation, the people in the mirror looked at Yi-Han with a mix of anticipation and curiosity.

It clicked for Yi-Han then.

‘They’re builders, aren’t they?’

Carrying various tools, the stone and wood guild members stood in the mirror, addressing him.

“It would be an honor to have an Einroguard student assist us! What grade are you in? Third? Fourth?”

Their enthusiastic voices reflected the high value placed on mages in the Empire, particularly those capable of contributing to architectural projects. Mages who wandered battlefields or learned magic in isolation weren’t suited for such cooperative work. Hence, Einroguard students were often considered the finest talent available for such projects.

Alpen responded without hesitation.

“He’s a first-year.”

“…”

“...???”

The builders were visibly taken aback. Yi-Han was, too.

“Um, Professor, isn’t it a bit early for me to take on this kind of responsibility?”

“You’re quite modest.”

‘Do all Einroguard professors lack a basic concept of saying no?’

Yi-Han couldn’t help but feel disheartened. Why did his attempts at refusal always get dismissed as humility?

“Still, Wardanaz, you have the skills to take on this challenge.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I graded your midterm answers myself, remember?”

“…”

Faced with that reasoning, Yi-Han was left speechless.

“Well, if you’re confident…”

“I’m staking my reputation on it. Trust me.”

Yi-Han felt the weight of those words bearing down on him. What if he made a mistake under such high expectations?

“Um… Administrator—Professor, are you sure about this?” one of the builders hesitantly asked.

“I’ll guarantee it with my name. Just trust me,” the professor assured them.

“Uh…”

Yi-Han felt overwhelmed by the assurance the professor hadn’t even requested, especially when any mistakes would fall on him.

“Well, if you insist, sir…”

“Though, isn’t it unusual for a first-year to participate in construction? Don’t most start around their third year?”

“Yes, that’s my understanding. But you know how Einroguard is, with its outlandish rumors. Perhaps we were mistaken.”

“True, I’ve even heard that Einroguard students have to fight for their meals. I must have been misinformed,” one of them joked.

“…”

Yi-Han listened with a heavy heart. Knowing the truth but being unable to share it was a strange kind of sadness.

“Professor, what exactly would be my role in this fortress construction?”

“Primarily calculations related to the magical components.”

Larger structures typically required artifact integration, which involved calculating mana requirements, sourcing adequate mana supplies, and ensuring the artifacts functioned without interference from one another. In other words, a ton of calculations.

‘Just hearing about it makes my head spin.’

“Do you think I can finish it on time?”

“Oh, you’ll manage by the end of term.”

Yi-Han frowned at that. “End of term? Don’t I have to complete it before final exams?”

“Wardanaz, surely you’re joking. As if you’d

 need to take finals on top of this?”

The professor laughed. He was impressed by Yi-Han’s confidence in suggesting he could finish such a large project and still take finals.

Of course, Professor Alpen was responsible enough not to let him overextend himself.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Relieved at not having to worry about finals, Yi-Han felt a strange sense of defeat.

‘Damn. I shouldn’t be this pleased.’

Thinking it through, he realized the only reason he could skip finals was that he’d already covered the material during midterms. He didn’t owe the professor anything.

“Professor, where should we send the payment?” one of the builders asked.

“You can send it with the next carrier pigeon.”

“What payment?” Yi-Han asked, curious.

The professor replied as if it were obvious. “Naturally, you’ll be paid for your work on an outside project. It should help fund your magic research next year.”

“…Can I see the fortress plans? I’ll do my best.”