Chapter Thirty-Six: Director of the Teaching Department

Before long, Louis had finished counting the gold coins belonging to those four people.

“Only a bit over thirty gold galleons in cash?” Louis looked at the pile of checks on the ground and shook his head.

In truth, the four of them weren’t exactly poor, but most of their wealth was in the bank. Their coin purses were stuffed with unsigned checks—utterly useless for withdrawal. Only the Ministry of Magic would be able to make use of them.

“Adding in the bounty, if I scrape everything together, there’s a bit over a thousand gold galleons! Stewart, what do you think I need right now?” Louis glanced into the mirror, raising his eyebrows as if recalling something, his expression brightening with delight. “Today in Blackhorn Alley, I saw a wizard’s robe—quite impressive. I heard it’s made from basilisk hide, crafted with a host of spells and potions—over a thousand gold galleons, though, which is a bit much.”

“Master, if you want a magical robe, I’d suggest having one custom-made.” At this, Stewart gave a formal bow, in the manner of a humble retainer. “I used to make such robes for the Witch Queen herself, you know. I am, after all, a magic mirror, and when it comes to tailoring, there are few on earth who can rival me.”

Louis’s eyes lit up. He glanced at the note in the storybook describing Stewart’s abilities:

[Tailor level 5]

“You mentioned basilisk hide earlier—a fine choice—but I think a robe made from the hide of a sea serpent would suit you even better. There are a few merchants in the Dark Domain who recently managed to acquire a particularly fine piece of sea serpent skin. I’d already planned to make such a robe for the Witch Queen, so I’ve got all the other materials on hand, and have been preparing for some time. With your thousand galleons, that will be more than enough—I guarantee that wearing it, you’ll become a terrifying magical serpent, able to summon wind and rain at will.”

The same outlay, a thousand gold galleons, but Stewart’s proposal was for the cost of making a bespoke masterpiece.

The craftsman who made that basilisk robe couldn’t possibly match Stewart’s skill.

“Good, let’s do that. How long will it take?”

“If it were an ordinary robe…” As he spoke, a bundle of thread flew from Stewart’s sleeve and, under his incantation, wove itself into a wizard’s robe at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Faster than any loom.

“Master, a regular robe can be fashioned with ordinary means, but to make a true magical robe, every step—tanning the hide, spinning the thread—must be enchanted. That does take time. However, with your help, it should go quickly—your mastery of spells surpasses mine. If you’re available, we can start spinning some thread right now.”

With a wave of his hand, Stewart turned the magic mirror toward a nearby stone table. At once, the table was covered in a thick, dense web—clearly, unprocessed magic spider silk.

“Let’s give it a try, then,” Louis said, reaching for Stewart. The two merged into one. Under Stewart’s guidance, they set to work immediately.

There were seven or eight minutes of energy infusion left, which Louis managed to stretch into an hour’s worth of work.

Louis’s shadow—Stewart—kept spinning the thread, while Louis himself, following Stewart’s instructions, wove spells into the silk.

Eventually, Louis simply grabbed Resentment and, making use of the hydra’s properties, began casting multiple spells at once. In just a few seconds, his magic was utterly drained.

A few minutes later, Resentment developed a hairline crack, so Louis regretfully put it away. Half an hour later, the magic mirror showed a fracture too—Stewart was exhausted. They had to stop.

By then, the entire expanse of spider webs covering the grand table had been spun into thread.

Tomorrow, once Stewart purchased the hide, they could begin the tanning process.

Stewart spoke weakly, “Master, working with you feels like toiling alongside hundreds of wizards at once… I think that within a week, you’ll be wearing your magical robe.”

Louis checked the date—it was Monday. He’d certainly be wearing it by next week.

“Just in time for a trip to Blackhorn Alley. For the next seven days, I’ll practice spells or find something else to do,” he thought.

Before leaving, Louis repaired both the magic mirror and his wand, then left for the dormitory.

Curiously, Osyclisse was actually present today. Judging by her new wizard's robe, she’d finally been promoted to her long-desired position as Director of Discipline.

But today, she looked rather stern, clutching an iron ruler as she stood at the door, watching the clock.

“What’s going on?” Louis wondered, just as he noticed Helen, standing in the lounge as punishment, rubbing her backside and sticking her tongue out at him in secret.

Louis suspected the girl had skipped the laboratory today and had gone off to play elsewhere, only to come back late and run straight into Osyclisse’s sudden return—caught red-handed.

From Helen’s demeanor, she had evidently held out under Osyclisse’s interrogation.

And seeing the iron ruler in Osyclisse’s arms… Louis couldn’t help glancing at the clock overhead.

He’d returned five or six hours later than Helen.

“Go stand over there!” Osyclisse commanded coldly.

Louis rubbed his face.

Although Osyclisse was only three years older than Louis, she played the role of teacher to perfection. The iron ruler in her hand was put to immediate use; when Louis approached, she landed a few stinging blows on his thigh.

Not particularly painful, but certainly humiliating.

After a stern dressing-down, Osyclisse unleashed her temper, complaining that her absence had left the two students far too lax—especially Louis, who had come back even later than Helen!

She proceeded to quiz them on their recent coursework.

It turned out the new Director of Discipline was eager to make her authority felt…

Looking at the young woman who was only three years his senior, Louis had no choice but to go through the motions, satisfying Osyclisse’s need for discipline.

But perhaps his performance was a bit too perfunctory, for Osyclisse grew increasingly annoyed.

She seized the opportunity to interrogate Louis about his studies, but like Helen before him, Louis answered fluently and without hesitation.

Infuriating.

Displeased.

She began asking even more difficult questions; at last, Louis found himself hesitating, rubbing his face in confusion.

Osyclisse was now asking questions she herself didn’t understand—what was he supposed to do?

He could hardly resist the urge to teach her a lesson.

Oh well, best to let her vent.

So Louis hemmed and hawed, eventually claiming ignorance.

At last, Osyclisse was satisfied. “Good-for-nothing!”

Louis rubbed his face in mock shame.

To claim ignorance of such questions was indeed a bit lacking.

Osyclisse looked at her student—taller than herself—and felt a surge of pride.

As a top student of Sacred Oak, she could certainly handle a problem child.

So this is the level of a forbidden wizard.

She took the opportunity to berate the two of them thoroughly, then assigned a mountain of homework and reading, and demanded they each write a reflective essay.

Her temper finally spent.

“If you fail the wizardry assessment at the start of term, you’ll both be in for it!” Osyclisse glared at them, then, with a stiff back and a swing of her hips, marched off to her room.

“Osyclisse must be twenty-three or twenty-four by now—never had a boyfriend, and already Director of Discipline… sigh.” Watching that graceful figure, Louis couldn’t help worrying about her future.

Helen, meanwhile, had already set to her essay with determined vigor; Louis glanced at the storybook and rubbed his face.

[A. Write a sincere reflection and strive to be a good student. Reward: Teacher’s praise x1, Exp +5]

[B. Storm into Osyclisse’s room, give her a taste of her own medicine, and teach her what true reflection means. Reward: You know what.]

[C. Include Helen. Reward: Random attribute +1]

Hemorrhoid surgery, babysitting, writing reflections…

Other transmigrators accomplish grand feats, but what are these daily tasks of mine?

Louis immediately dismissed B and C, and as for the reflection, he had no intention of writing it.

Who needs those 5 experience points?

“All done!” Helen stretched with satisfaction. She was clearly well-practiced at writing such essays.

Louis turned to her with a sly grin.

“What are you looking at? I’m not writing your reflection for you!”

“Heh.” Louis chuckled amiably. “Helen, I heard you and your girlfriends sneaked off to Blackhorn Alley today?”

Helen’s eyes widened—she nearly blurted out, “How did you know?”

“Ahem, what’s Blackhorn Alley?” Helen looked up with an innocent face.

Louis produced a small slip of paper with a smile.

Helen snorted; she remembered writing on that slip that she was going to her sister’s laboratory to prepare Stone Immortal Water.

Her sister hadn’t been in the lab today, so the note served as her alibi.

But when she glanced at the paper, she stared in disbelief, then snatched it away and tore it to shreds.

Helen smirked. “Hmph, silly Louis, no evidence left now!”

Louis just kept smiling.

He reached into his pocket and produced another slip.

Helen stared at him, aghast. “You liar! You villain! My sister won’t believe you anyway! Hmph.”

“Then maybe I’ll ask her myself,” Louis said, getting up.

“Don’t…” The habitual offender Helen clung to Louis’s sleeve, pleading in a whisper, “I’ll do whatever you say, all right?”

Clearly, this wasn’t her first offense.

Louis patted her head, grinning as he returned to his room, leaving Helen pouting over her essay.

The five experience points didn’t matter; what was important was that a serious reflection would help Helen grow.

Eighteen years old—not a child anymore.

But for option A, she certainly was.