I Became a Genius Black Mage at the Holy Academy

After the basic healing class ended, Roan was sitting in Professor Atoga’s office.

The interior of his office matched his character well: stylish decorations, neat furniture, and well-organized bookshelves.

Roan recalled seeing this place on his monitor and wondered why Atoga had called him.

‘He wouldn’t have called me just to talk about my family or praise me.’

There had to be a significant reason for summoning a student to his office after the first class.

Thud!

“Here. I don’t know if it will suit your taste, but have some.”

Atoga quickly brought over two cups of tea.

It had a unique aroma, both bitter and soapy.

“Nuven?”

Roan murmured the name of the tea leaves. It suddenly came to his mind.

Atoga looked slightly surprised.

“You know Nuven? It’s rare and not well-known, so few people are familiar with it.”

That’s precisely why he knew.

No matter how detailed the settings in God and Devil were, they didn’t describe the aroma or taste of ordinary tea.

For tea leaves to be specifically recorded, they had to have a good reputation.

“I know it as the tea leaves enjoyed by Holy King Gidenuel XVII.”

There had to be a story attached to it. For example, a famous Holy King favoring it.

The name Nuven itself came from his title.

“Truly remarkable…”

Atoga was genuinely impressed.

Gidenuel was a figure from 2,000 years ago.

Even if he was a renowned holy king, it was astonishing that he remembered the tea leaves he enjoyed.

Roan felt a sense of pride at his admiration.

‘Now it feels worthwhile to have played God and Devil.’

Yes, this was the kind of life he had imagined when he first found himself in this world.

To casually chat with characters in the game world he had dreamed of and live a peaceful life…

“While living alone in the Holy Palace, collecting the anecdotes of past holy kings was a small pleasure for me. Realizing that they were humans like us brings joy.”

“Truly admirable!”

When Roan spoke with rare enjoyment, Atoga clapped his hands in delight.

But soon, he got to the point.

“Oh right, I almost forgot. I called you here because of the healing you showed in class earlier.”

Roan had somewhat anticipated this.

However, he didn’t know exactly how his magic appeared to Atoga.

“How long have you been studying healing holy arts? I heard you awakened your holy power just before the entrance ceremony.”

“?”

How long had he studied?

‘I’ve never done that.’

Well, he had, during gameplay.

But that was something he couldn’t reveal, so Roan chose to remain silent.

In his experience, people in the Holy Empire were adept at interpreting things on their own.

“It’s astonishing that a freshman used ‘instant hemostasis’ and even attempted to combine ‘nerve regeneration’ and ‘cellular regeneration’… Not to mention using Hilonian, which isn’t common anymore. It doesn’t make sense.”

Atoga was equally astonished.

The content far surpassed Roan’s imagination. 

Instant hemostasis and nerve… What?

He had merely used two basic dark magic spells.

“As someone who also lost family to dark mages, I understand your desire to master healing holy arts.”

 Atoga said, falling deeper into the pit of misunderstanding.

“I am very curious about your secrets, but I won’t ask.”

“…?”

There were no secrets. Even if he explained, it wouldn’t be useful.

‘It’s just because I’m a dark mage…’

Atoga was a priest, and Roan was a dark mage.

“However, your holy art is too unique. Excessive uniqueness isn’t good. I’ll help you strengthen your fundamentals.”

“Ah… I see.”

“I’m not criticizing you!”

Atoga continued to lecture Roan on the importance of basics and the dangers of combining holy arts casually, but none of it really applied to Roan.

‘So, the False Divinity’s translation whimsically created advanced holy arts.’

So advanced that even a healing professor was impressed.

This gap was due to the fundamental differences between holy magic and dark magic.

He needed to be mindful, but it wasn’t something he could control.

After a long talk, Atoga stood up and went to the bookshelf, pulling out a book.

It wasn’t a professionally bound book but seemed to be self-bound by Atoga.

“What is this?”

“Your healing magic is excellent but shows signs of self-teaching. It’s too complex.”

It had to be.

“This is a basic healing primer I wrote myself. It’s not published yet, but you might find it useful.”

“… Thank you very much.”

Roan accepted the book with both hands, expressing his gratitude.

‘Not that I really need it.’

Even a basic healing primer was meaningless to Roan, who couldn’t use holy power.

Perhaps he could rent it out for some money during exam periods.

With that thought, Roan left the office.

… However, the False Divinity in Roan’s possession had different thoughts about Atoga’s primer.

Twitch!

There was a slight stir within Roan, but he didn’t notice it.

Atoga escorted Roan to the door.

“Lastly, don’t let hatred consume you. It’s not good.”

In Atoga’s mind, Roan had already become a tragic genius who lost his family to dark mages and crazily self-taught holy arts.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Luckily, Roan could accept this last piece of advice since he didn’t harbor any hatred.

Thinking that Atoga truly had the heart of a great educator, Roan left Hetron Hall.

At the entrance, two people were waiting for him.

He expected them to be Demona and Hector… But instead.

“Why are you here, Kedan?”

It was Rafia Kedan instead of Hector.

“Oh, Roan. I thought we could go to the next class together.”

Rafia smiled awkwardly.

“Where’s Hector?”

“The fanatic heard there was a dark mage roaming around and ran off.”

Demona said with a scoff.

“… Why didn’t you go?”

Roan thought that Demona would be just as serious about dark magic as Hector was.

Demona appeared incredulous and responded, “Does that even make sense? A dark mage at Akerandir? Priests shouldn’t pay attention to such rumors. What do you think, Kedan?”

Although what he said was very true, it sounded odd coming from Demona.

“Oh? Yeah, right. There couldn’t be any dark mages here.”

“……”

Roan remained silent.

‘There is one right here.’

He thought Demona and Rafia were more naive than he had expected.

One should always be aware that the person closest to them might be an enemy.

Not that Roan was in a position to say so.

Of course, he had a good idea of the identity of the dark mage roaming around Akerandir.

“Kedan, don’t you usually hang out with your roommates?”

“Just call me Rafia, Roan. I use your name, so no need to be so formal. As for my roommates, well… It’s a bit difficult.”

“Hmm?”

Roan tilted his head in curiosity.

It was surprising that there was someone whom the friendly Rafia found difficult.

“The saint candidate and someone named Riel… Do you know them?”

But once he learned who Rafia’s roommates were, he understood.

“That makes sense…”

Sion was already hard to approach, and Roan’s presence probably made it even more so.

Riel was simply a formidable character.

Even someone as sociable as Rafia would find it challenging to befriend them.

Meanwhile, Roan felt bewildered by Demona’s intense gaze.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Can I call you Roan too?”

“……”

So that was it.

‘Does this Wickron have no pride?’

He didn’t remember Demona being this way even during gameplay.

“… Go ahead.”

“Great, Roan!”

Demona giggled, feeling triumphant that he had beaten Hector to it.

‘Does he have pride, after all?’

The problem was that this competitiveness was directed solely at Hector.

Roan looked at Demona with a hint of contempt.

Unaware of this, Demona continued to smile and then asked Roan, “Do you know what our next class is, Roan?”

“Well, the second class is…”

Roan paused to think, then his expression turned serious.

‘I need to be careful.’

The second class was probably going to be the most dangerous time for him.

* * *

Unlike Hetron Hall, which was located in the center of Akerandir,

Saint Siothric Hall was situated in a slightly secluded area on the outskirts.

As Roan and his friends entered Siothric Hall, they felt a slight chill.

“… Roan. Doesn’t this place feel a bit eerie?”

Rafia asked, hugging her arms.

Roan nodded.

“It has to be.”

“Really? Is there a reason for that?”

“Countless vengeful spirits are probably watching us right now.”

“… You’re joking, right?”

Rafia immediately turned pale and started looking around nervously.

Demona, who had been quietly listening, felt the same.

Unfortunately for them, it was the truth.

Siothric Hall also served as a reformation center in the area.

Although it was called a reformation center, it was essentially a hub for inquisitions.

In fact, when playing the game, horror events related to vengeful spirits often occurred in Siothric Hall.

“We’re late. Let’s hurry inside.”

Roan said, urging Demona and Rafia.

He wasn’t afraid of vengeful spirits, but he had to be cautious of the professor of the next class.

Aside from Harden, this professor was one of the characters most likely to uncover Roan’s secret.

Murmur! Murmur!

The classroom was already buzzing with conversation with the curious freshmans.

─ Ugh… What’s this now?

─ Are they going to make us go in there next?

The students muttered uneasily, looking at the various torture devices and ominous cells hanging around the classroom.

Given they had just stabbed their forearms with daggers in the basic healing class, their reactions were natural.

Meanwhile, as soon as Demona entered the classroom, he scanned the room for someone and then smiled with satisfaction.

“Hey there, fanatic.”

“… What?”

‘Is he okay with being called a fanatic now?’

Surprisingly, Hector responded calmly to Demona’s call.

“Did you find the dark mage? Honestly, there’s no way a dark mage could be in a holy place like this.”

“I found one.”

“What? You found one?”

“Yes. But it was troublesome, so I just left.”

Demona looked puzzled by Hector’s words.

He must have wondered why Hector didn’t split the mage’s head with his axe as he always boasted.

“Ahaha! Were you scared?”

“… Who’s scared!”

“Did seeing the dark mage make you so scared you chickened out?”

“No!”

Roan was honestly impressed.

Despite being much smaller, Demona managed to provoke Hector, who was one of the most imposing freshmen, including the beastfolk.

‘Yet he can irritate him so effectively.’

Well, inquisitors only acted violently when dealing with heretics or dark mages.

In everyday life, they were meticulous and almost obsessively followed their doctrines.

That’s why Roan had to be even more careful…

“Hmph. Anyway, that doesn’t matter.”

“? You’re the one who asked, Wickron.”

Demona shook his head and gestured to Roan.

“Isn’t that right, Ro-an?”

‘Did he just emphasize my name?’

Roan wondered just how childish people could get while watching Demona. 

No matter how much Demona and Hector argued over him, it was still just—

“Ro, Roan…?”

‘They really are easily influenced.’

He realized he had underestimated them both.

Shaking his head, Roan sat down next to Demona.

Rafia hesitantly took the seat next to Roan.

“Since when has that heretic been calling you by name, Darc?”

Hector’s eyes were almost desperate.

Roan sighed softly and said, “If you want to call me by my name, go ahead.”

“Roan!”

“Roan!”

Demona and Hector called out Roan’s name simultaneously, one with a bright expression, the other looking crestfallen.

‘Such carefree fools.’

While some were bracing themselves for the next class, prepared to have their heads bashed in.

… Not figuratively, but quite literally.

Creak!

Rafia shifted her chair slightly away from the two ruckus makers.

“?”

“Ahem! Ahem.”

When Roan glanced at her, Rafia awkwardly cleared her throat and looked away.

The reason was obvious.

It was because of the two idiots with yellow and red hair sitting next to Roan.

Feeling both sorry for Roan and wary of Hector and Demona, Rafia seemed relieved.

‘Well, at least you’ll survive.’

From a grand perspective, Roan decided to let Rafia go.

She wasn’t the type to hang around with three gloomy characters.

She was an ‘influencer’ who lived brightly and in the sun.

Then.

Creak!

With a spine-chilling noise, the classroom door opened.

The chattering atmosphere of the classroom immediately turned solemn.

Just as model students instinctively shrink in front of the head teacher.

Even the ordinary students of Akerandir couldn’t casually speak in front of the professor of this class.

“Ooh—”

Of course, Hector was the exception.

‘I wondered why I felt oddly good earlier; it must have been because of this.’

Roan finally understood the reason.

This was because the class was ‘Combat Against Dark Magic.’

Thud! Thud!

Heavy combat boots made their way up to the podium.

As if the ominous atmosphere of Siothric Hall had compressed into one point, the professor appeared.

A massive battle hammer, almost as tall as an average person, rested on her shoulder.

The hammer’s white surface was marred by fresh bloodstains and even gave off a faint steam, making it all the more conspicuous.

At last.

Standing in the center of the podium,

“Nice to meet you!”

The professor smiled brightly at the students.

“Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve seen new students~ I’m so happy to meet you all! I’m Kaina Ho, and I’ll be teaching combat against dark magic!”

“…….”

Kaina Ho.

Standing just shy of 160cm, she was, true to her introduction, the professor of combat against dark magic and an inquisitor at Akerandir.

Though her long brown hair braided into pigtails, her cute appearance, and small stature might make one question how she managed such a harsh job,

“…… Greetings.”

─ Ah, hello, Professor!

Her sharp gaze and serious demeanor could make most people faint from her sheer presence.

When Kaina unleashed her intimidating aura, the students were startled and greeted her quickly.

“Nice to meet you~ Nice to meet you~”

Kaina returned to her bright demeanor.

Smiling cheerfully, she moved to the corner of the podium and set down the hammer she had been carrying on her shoulder.

Thud!

The sound was enough to make one think the podium might break.

“Sorry I’m late! I wanted to come early, but I had some things to take care of~”

─ That looks like… blood on it, doesn’t it?

─ …It even seems to be giving off steam.

The students were terrified as they observed the scene.

A hammer stained with fresh blood; the ‘work’ of an inquisitor.

Even without knowing the details, it wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened.

‘Hopefully, it’s not someone I know.’