Fortunately, the Skull Principal didn’t respond to the Death Knights’ attempts to stir up trouble.

Instead, he seemed deeply lost in thought, likely considering all the possible outcomes of meeting with the Emperor.

"Hmm... unsettling," he muttered, breaking the silence.

No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t imagine a scenario where meeting the Emperor alongside I-han would end well.

“Couldn’t you just talk to Wardanaz about it beforehand?” Eunrade cautiously suggested after watching the Principal’s reaction.

In truth, Eunrade couldn’t quite understand the Principal’s concern.

“Sure, Wardanaz may have been a bit overzealous for a freshman, but surely His Majesty would forgive him. And, well, the incident over the summer was unavoidable, wasn’t it?”

—“Excuse me, Lord Eunrade. You’re aware he took down a Sea Serpent, right?”

—“And that’s not even all of it.”

“What?” Eunrade froze.

After a brief pause, he added, “If we have a good talk with Wardanaz and make sure everyone keeps quiet, how would His Majesty ever find out?”

—“Typical Einroguard graduate, through and through.”

—“The audacity of that thinking.”

The Death Knights muttered amongst themselves, but Eunrade paid them no mind. After all, he was doing this for survival.

Only the quick-witted survived at Einroguard. Naturally, he intended to keep things under wraps. And anyway, Wardanaz wasn’t the type to let things slip…

Over the years, Einroguard had seen all types of geniuses, but few as adaptable, sociable, and multitalented as I-han. While most prodigies focused solely on one field of interest, I-han’s well-rounded skills made him stand out even more.

“Doesn’t that make it even less of a concern?” Eunrade asked hopefully.

And that’s why you were never at the top of your class.

Eunrade felt wronged.

Even after graduation, was he still going to be scolded over his grades?

—“My lord, what is it you’re worried about?”

—“Yes, surely Wardanaz would cooperate if we explained the situation.”

You might be right.

The Skull Principal acknowledged this with surprising calm, which startled everyone else.

But the problem is that, unlike a sensible, upstanding archmage like me, the boy has an unpredictable streak of madness…

‘What nonsense,’ Eunrade scoffed internally.

Calling the Skull Principal mad was absurd.

And Wardanaz, that well-mannered freshman?

You must be cursing me right now, Eunrade.

“N-no, sir!”

I understand. It’s hard for someone who’s never topped a class to grasp such subtleties. But I can sense his madness…

*Boom!*

The sound of an explosion came from the courtyard.

The Principal, Eunrade, and the Death Knights rushed to the window to see what was happening.

Down below, a golem made of all sorts of scrap materials was stumbling forward with a strange, creaky sound.

—“Professor Verdus, please help! We have to stop it!”

—“Why? It’s moving along fine. If you stop it now, it might damage the golem.”

—“If it keeps going, it’ll destroy everything in its path!”

—“Why complain now? You knew this would happen.”

—“But… you said it would be fine! You told us it was okay to build it…”

—“It is fine. Keep going and finish the golem. Don’t stop.”

“…Is that… a golem made from scraps?” Eunrade blinked in disbelief.

He remembered his own freshman final, which involved creating simple artifacts from broken objects. But back then, the results were limited to basic items like water purification or location-finding artifacts.

Yet here was a first-year student who’d made a functioning, self-propelling golem. Out of discarded parts, no less?!

See that?

The Skull Principal’s voice was calm.

That’s the madness I was talking about.

Wardanaz looked normal enough, but the second an opportunity arose, he’d do something insane like this.

If he went to the imperial palace and a noble joked about how “Since you studied under Lord Gonadaltes, perhaps you’d be capable of capturing a demonic duke,” Wardanaz might very well respond with “Understood. I’ll take care of it,” and start swinging his sword.

‘And then, of course, the Emperor and his advisors would blame me.’

Just thinking about the questions from the nobles—“What exactly have you been teaching him?” or accusations of “This despicable archmage has been abusing his students in archaic ways!”—was enough to make his nonexistent heart ache with the unfairness of it all.

Why should he be blamed for his student’s impulsive actions?

“Aren’t you going to stop him? If that golem explodes, there will be serious consequences!”

What made the golem dangerous was its power source.

Moving something of that size required a considerable amount of energy, meaning it had to have a powerful core artifact. If anything went wrong, headlines like *Another Explosion at Golem Guild!* or *City Council Demands Golem Guild Be Relocated Outside City Limits* would appear in the Empire’s newspapers.

Leave him be. He’ll handle it.

“No… You really should stop him! We’ll be meeting His Majesty soon, and an explosion would be terrible timing!”

An explosion just weeks before meeting the Emperor wouldn’t exactly be good for morale.

How well would the conversation go if he had to greet the Emperor with, “I just went through a golem explosion a few weeks ago”?

Creak—click—clank!

Despite Eunrade’s protests, the golem came to a complete stop.

In the courtyard, Wardanaz stood atop the golem, holding its power core, swearing as he jumped to the ground.

Amazingly, this freshman had managed to remove the power source from a moving golem’s body!

It was an incredible feat, even hard to believe while watching it.

—“I’m never taking Professor Verdus’s advice again!”

—“Huh? Why? Aren’t you proud of your golem?”

—“Proud? I nearly died because of this thing!”

—“But you managed to stop it perfectly, didn’t you?”

That was the end of the conversation.

I-han’s friends rushed over to hold him back as he tried to confront Professor Verdus.

—“Calm down, Wardanaz!”

—“He’s the professor! Just let it go!!”

---

I-han found himself thinking yet again, as he had hundreds of times since joining Einroguard:

‘Never trust a professor!’

“...Chin up, Wardanaz.”

“At least the exam’s over, right?”

“Yeah. At least that’s done with.”

Taking Verdus’s suggestion during the final had been a huge mistake.

—“It’s finished, Professor.”

—“Huh? That’s it?”

—“…I think it’s well-made, don’t you? It has some defensive capabilities too…”

—“Nah, let’s make something more fun. You can handle it.”

—“Wait. Other students are passing with basic stuff; why do I have to…?”

—“Look at this. See this piece? Can you tell what it is?”

—“Not really?”

—“It’s a leg from a wood golem. And this? A bronze cleaning golem’s arm. And… here, this is a melee golem’s helmet. Got it?”

—“…Not really?”

—“Are you slow? I’m saying put them together and make a golem!”

—“…Excuse me? Is that even possible? I’ve never made a golem, and patching it together like this just doesn’t seem…”

—“It’s fine, it’s fine. The magic circles are still there. Combining these pieces is way easier than starting from scratch.”

—“Assembling parts is easier, sure, but only if they come from the same golem. Mixing different parts could cause unforeseen effects. Besides, it might not even work…”

—“No worries. I think it’ll work.”

—“Are you *sure*?”

—“Of course!”

—“...Alright, I’ll give it a try, but…”

Falling for Verdus’s sly encouragement, I-han bound, joined, and connected various parts from different golems.

The circuits and magic circles were incompatible, so he just forced the magic flow through brute force.

After barely getting the half-broken power source repaired and connected, he poured in magic with a single-minded focus to get it running...

—“It’s moving! I can’t believe it…”

—“I told you it would work.”

—“Wait. Professor, the golem’s moving on its own—what’s the activation command?”

Adding an activation command or keyword to control a golem was basic knowledge.

Since they had used mismatched parts, I-han assumed Professor Verdus would have taken care of it.

—“There’s no activation command.”

—“What?”

—“There isn’t one. You combined different parts; of course, it wouldn’t have that.”

—“Then how am I supposed to control it?”

—“You’ll have to add one now.”

—“…It’s moving, though?”

—“Just install it from above.”

—“I haven’t learned how to do that!”

—“Oh? Here’s a book.”

—“Professor Verdus! Help me! We need to stop this thing!”

—“Why? It’s running fine. Stopping it now might damage the golem.”

…And that was how things had come to this.

Fortunately, by using brute force to interact with the magic circuits and forcibly shutting down its

 core, I-han had managed to remove the power source. Otherwise, either the forest would have been destroyed, or he and Professor Verdus would have.

“I should’ve just turned it in as it was.”

‘Doesn’t Wardanaz have some issues, too?’

Salco thought to himself.

If it were him, he’d never have listened to Verdus’s suggestion to begin with.

Assembling scrap to make a functioning golem was pure insanity.

“Salco? What are you thinking?”

“Oh, nothing… Just that Professor Verdus is truly a wicked man. If he were in our Stonemason Guild, he’d be forced to kneel with a boulder on his back for punishment!”

“Oh… that sounds like a great idea.”

I-han’s interest piqued, and Salco realized just how much resentment his friend harbored.

“Wardanaz, let’s go prepare for Professor Thunderstep’s exam.”

“Yeah, forget about Verdus.”

Encouraged by his friends, I-han’s expression softened a little.

Then, some students who weren’t in the enchanting class appeared in the distance.

“Hey, I heard you caused some trouble during your exam?”

“What kind of mistake sends a golem running wild? Do you even study enchanting… Argh! Wardanaz! Why are you—?! We didn’t do anything wrong!”

The students, who had only intended to tease him, panicked and fled as I-han launched ice pellets at them.

The thought that Wardanaz himself might have made a mistake had never crossed their minds.

---

“A Pegasus!!!”

Before they even reached the exam hall, the excited voices of other students echoed down the hallway.

I-han’s friends widened their eyes at the word.

“Pegasus?!”

“A real Pegasus...?!”

Among the many rare creatures of the Empire, the Pegasus was especially popular.

Other flying mounts like wyverns and griffons were known for occasionally threatening or attacking their owners, as reported in the Empire’s newspapers…

…but a Pegasus was considered relatively polite and respectful.

“How did Professor Thunderstep manage to borrow Pegasi for this?”

“He’s one of the Empire’s top explorers; he must have pulled some strings.”

The students looked at Professor Thunderstep with admiration.

Pegasi were so valuable that even with money, they were hard to come by.

And yet, he had brought them here just for the students.

“No need to look at me like that; it was just luck.”

“Professor… I respect you more than anyone!”

“I’d keep that to yourself when you’re around other professors. Now, today’s test is to convince these Pegasi to let you ride them. But don’t get cocky. Pegasi are gentle compared to wyverns, but they’re by no means easy.”

I-han wasn’t surprised.

Though Pegasi wouldn’t harm their riders, they didn’t simply carry just anyone on their backs.

Like all imperial mystical creatures, they assessed the worthiness of potential riders, granting passage only to those who passed their test.

‘For Pegasi… it’s all about integrity and honor.’

How well had he treated animals over the past year? How honorable were his past actions?

Pegasi could sense the traces of such qualities in a person’s spirit.

I-han locked eyes with one of the Pegasi, and the creature blinked kindly at him, as if acknowledging his past deeds.

‘It recognizes me!’

Just as he took a grateful step forward, Professor Thunderstep called out.

“Hold on, Wardanaz.”

“Yes?”

“You shouldn’t get too close.”

“Why not?!”

“Because Ponlig would get jealous…?”

“......”

Caught off guard, I-han was speechless.

From his sleeve, the little basilisk hissed in agreement.