I Became a Genius Black Mage at the Holy Academy

“Ahhh! Your Holiness!”

The priest who had been speaking so solemnly soon cried out in shock as he rushed toward Vicius. 

Vicius’s soul was literally leaving his body. 

The other priests and templars reacted in the same way, and in that instant, the small prayer room turned into utter chaos.

‘If we had been a little later, it could have ended up being a disaster.’

Roan nodded to himself. Fortunately, it seemed like they had avoided a catastrophe this time. If the professor changed due to Vicius’s death event, the prayer class would have become much tougher, so this was a relief.

“Thank you, Demona.”

“Huh? For what?”

Demona tilted his head, confused by the rare compliment from Roan.

─ Your Holiness, please regain your senses! 

─ Where’s the holy water? The emergency holy water!

After pouring a variety of advanced holy spells and expensive consumable items on Vicius, his soul finally returned to his body. 

Vicius’s soul had a tendency to try to escape the moment anyone let their guard down!

“Hm…? Ah, I almost left again, didn’t I?”

“Are you alright, Your Holiness?”

“I’m fine… I’m fine. I just had a brief visit with the Holy Spirit.”

That statement was likely true. 

Harden, the Holy Spirit in a state of eternal manifestation, existed between both the real world and the spiritual realm. 

The mention of seeing Harden caused murmurs among both the priests and students.

─ He saw the Holy Spirit! 

─ It must have been really close!

Meanwhile, Demona —

“… Isn’t the Principal here at school? Did he just pop by for a visit?” 

“Yes, he is.”

Demona had a knack for picking up on details that others didn’t notice.

‘Well, that’s why he’s interested in dark magic!’

Though he was a bit odd, he was, in his own way, very much like a member of the Wickron family.

“Hurry, get ready to take notes! What did the Holy Spirit say?”

Meanwhile, the clerics hurriedly pulled out their notebooks, waiting for Vicius’s next words. Every word spoken by the Holy Spirit was worth recording.

After a moment of thought, Vicius said, “Uh… something about ‘What’s a young brat like you doing up here already…’”

“Write it down quickly! There might be profound teachings in those words!”

“The young could symbolize the youth of the bolidu flower, and arrogance could refer to the coming month of October, so this might be a warning about future ecosystems…”

Listening to the priests making such a fuss, Roan was baffled.

‘It sounds like he’s just spewing things that don’t mean anything.’

Harden, after all, was at least 5,400 years old. Vicius was only 146. He would naturally get that kind of remark.

“No! In Volume 3 of the Ancient Chronicles, it says, ‘The life of a young one has already reached its twilight, how pitiful. Let me personally breathe life into them…’”

“Ohh!”

‘That was also just a casual remark.’

In that case, Harden had extended the life of a 90-year-old terminally ill person by 10 years simply because he felt like it. He had supposedly said, “A person should live at least 100 years if they’re born.” 

At the time, Harden had been about 1,400 years old, so even a 90-year-old seemed young to him.

In any case, after the noisy incident settled down, Vicius finally began the lesson.

“Well… I’m glad to see you all. Please pray with me that I can finish this semester’s lectures safely…”

─ …

The students sat up straighter in their seats while maintaining their silence. Seeing someone like him still teaching, while they sat there fully healthy, made them feel oddly uncomfortable in their seats.

The World of Prayer class.

In truth, most of this class consisted of students praying for Professor Vicius’s health — or rather, his extended lifespan.

***

Of course, the students’ resolve to focus on the lesson didn’t last long. 

The entire class involved sitting still with eyes closed, hands clasped, listening to holy chants and Vicius’s prayers. In such a setting, it was incredibly difficult for young students to stay awake.

As the students began to nod off, Roan observed quietly, thinking to himself, ‘The Holy Empire should experience a South Korean church service.’

Especially a military boot camp chapel service — where singing hymns and listening to sermons that drained your energy made the time pass quickly.

Nod —

The students’ heads bobbed as they struggled with sleep, and the priests stationed throughout the prayer room gently woke them up.

— Student.

— … Huh? Yes?

At first glance, this might seem like a peaceful class, but —

— That’s a fine of 50 Dalants.

—- Eek!

The sight of a kindly smiling priest imposing a fine was like a scene from a horror movie for the new students. Despite its quiet nature, this class carried an unexpected amount of tension.

Roan watched through half-closed eyes.

‘Foolish kids.’

Even if it was a prayer class, how could they expect not to be fined for dozing off so openly —

“Snore!”

“…”

Suddenly, a loud snore came from right next to Roan. He turned his head in disbelief, and there, as expected, was Demona, his head thrown back, fast asleep.

The priest, who had overheard Demona calling Vicius a lich earlier, approached with a beast-like expression on his face.

“Student…”

“Um… Aah! Dark mage!”

Demona, startled awake, saw the priest’s grim face and yelled in confusion. This, of course, only made the priest angrier.

“… Student, that will be a fine of 150 Dalants.”

The priest ground his teeth as he imposed the fine.

‘If he’s here attending Vicius’s class, he should’ve trained more by now.’

Roan shook his head. Demona certainly had a talent — one for turning every situation into the worst possible outcome possible.

Roan quietly closed his eyes again.

In the God and Devil game, there were two options during this class: endure the extreme fatigue or clear a rhythm game that made sleeping difficult.

Naturally, Roan chose the latter. Like a devoted worshiper, he clasped his hands and rested them against his forehead, slipping into a nap.

‘The key is to leave one ear open.’

He left part of his consciousness in the real world so he could respond to any threats if necessary.

“…Hm.”

A priest passing by nodded in satisfaction as he looked at Roan.

His body was completely still, his breathing calm and steady. Roan was perfectly mimicking the posture of a devout prayer, clearly distinguishing himself from those who were blatantly sleeping.

The true essence of the prayer class was: who could sleep without being caught by the priest.

***

“Thank you… to the new students who prayed for me today… May you all have a week of following the teachings of Hiloa with a devout heart…”

Professor Vicius ended the class with a voice that seemed on the verge of breaking but never did.

— Ughhh…

The students, like zombies, staggered out of their seats.

‘The Holy School’s prayer class is a technique for creating the undead.’

It was oddly symbolic that the students resembled zombies after attending a class taught by a lich-like professor.

Meanwhile, Roan looked more refreshed than before the class started.

“… Roan, you’re really devout.”

Rafia, her dark circles even more pronounced, looked at Roan in amazement. If he could endure a class like this, he could surely overcome any divine trial.

Roan shook his head.

“What are you talking about? I’m practically a heretic.”

“… Huh?”

Hearing Roan’s words, his friends all wore expressions of disbelief on their faces. However, since they hadn’t fully woken up yet, they couldn’t say anything in response.

‘But it’s true.’

Of course, Roan wasn’t lying. He really was a heretic dark mage. The “whatever happens, happens” strategy he learned from Demona had unexpectedly proven effective.

“So, what’s everyone planning to do now? Are you heading back to the dorms?”

Roan asked as he looked around at his friends. Considering how worn out they all looked, he wouldn’t be surprised if they just went straight back to their dorms. After all, the prayer class being scheduled in the afternoon was the school’s way of giving them a break.

However, their answers were a bit surprising.

“I’m going to go train for a bit… I need to wake myself up,” Rafia said with a yawn. Riel, standing closer to her, nodded in agreement. Roan nodded back, inwardly pleased.

‘Those two really need no intervention!’

Hector, also struggling to keep his eyes open, quickly packed his things.

“I’m going to check out the mountain behind the school.”

“… Why?” Roan had a good guess but asked out of politeness.

“I need to find an egg for the Holy Battles.”

‘Of course.’

It seemed clear that this version of Hector wasn’t destined to become an inquisitor. Hector clenched his teeth tightly and added, “Since that heretic already found a Swift One, I can’t fall behind.”

It wasn’t a Swift One, just the offspring of the King of Manic Rabbits, but Roan didn’t bother pointing that out.

“Why? You’re getting an egg in next week’s class,” Rafia asked, puzzled.

“There’s no limit to how many sacred beasts or divine beasts one can raise, as long as they have the ability. And next week, we only get one egg.”

“I-I see.”

Rafia nodded awkwardly, and couldn’t figure out why the Holy Battles were so important to him.

“What about you, Demona?” Roan asked, turning to him last.

But Demona’s expression was intense, almost like a general about to declare a military campaign. It was as if the essence of the Wickron family was surging through him. He spoke to Roan with a grand expression on his face.

“I’ve realized something, Roan.”

“… What?”

Roan was already curious about what kind of nonsense Demona would spout this time.

“This world is nothing but emptiness and absurdity. Family and status mean nothing. The only one who can save me is myself.”

Roan’s mouth dropped slightly in surprise. This answer had far surpassed his expectations. Had the Wickron family’s talent for wisdom been awakened during the prayer session?

‘If that class had been so profound, maybe I should’ve paid more attention too.’

But no, that wasn’t the case. It was just a class praying for the long life of a 146-year-old pope…

And Demona hadn’t even prayed — he’d been sound asleep.

With a resolute expression, Demona slung his bag over his shoulder, containing nothing but the King of Manic Rabbits’ egg, and said, “I’m going to beg Professor Belek for some Dalants.”

“…”

Both Roan and his friends stared at Demona in shock. 

He had just been talking about being self-reliant, and now he was talking about begging? From a professor, no less?

“And then, I’ll toss that money at the priest and say, ‘This is the price of my pride!’”

But Demona paid no attention to their reactions, fully immersed in his own fantasy.

“He’s just being himself. After all, he is Demona after all.”

“Yeah, typical Demona.”

By the time Demona started mumbling something about “dark magic on the side,” his friends had naturally begun ignoring him.

“What about you, Roan?” Rafia asked.

Roan answered without hesitation. He’d already thought about it during class.

“I’m planning to go to the library.”

“The library?”

Rafia tilted her head in confusion, as if wondering why he’d go there. The reactions from passing students were even more blatant.

– Did you hear? Darc is going to the library.

– Our school has a library?

– Why keep studying after all that?

Roan expected this, but he couldn’t hide his frustration at the same time.

‘Why did these guys even come to school?’

It was one thing for them to avoid studying, but treating someone who did as the weird one? The future of the Holy Empire seemed very bleak. 

Still, Roan found it all to be rather amusing.

‘If they were all diligent students, I’d probably be more worried.’

Hector gave Roan a concerned look.

“But we just finished class. You should give yourself a break.”

“Students are supposed to study.”

Roan felt it unfair that, despite his friends planning to train or hike, they were treating him like the odd one for wanting to study.

At that moment, Demona caught Roan’s eye and panicked.

“Eek! If Roan catches me, I’ll have to study at the library!”

And with that, he bolted, without even glancing back.

‘Did he really think I’d drag him to the library?’

Roan had no intention of bringing Demona to study. In fact, being alone sounded much more appealing.

‘And to think, just before class, he said he realized how important I was!’

Anger welled up inside him. Demona was bad news! He was definitely someone he should watch out for.

Sensing Roan’s growing irritation, his friends quickly said their goodbyes and scattered.

“Well, uh, study hard!”

“Y-Yeah, have a good time! See you tomorrow, Roan!”

——-

Translator’s announcement:

We have accumulated numerous chapters as drafts. We understand that some of you are eagerly awaiting the new chapters, so we have made these drafts as advanced chapters(patreon). It basically means that you will have access to them while we edit it going along the way.

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