Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 45: Backfire

"What do you mean be straightforward?" Nolan exclaimed, widening his eyes as if he’d just been accused of murder. His tone was a delicate blend of offense and righteousness, the kind that only a truly shameless man could pull off without flinching.

"Granfire, you wound me! Truly, you wound me."

He placed a hand theatrically on his chest, his voice rising with every word.

"I’m not provoking anyone here. Not at all. Me? No, never. I’m simply expressing genuine concern for the future of these young minds. These students... they are the torchbearers of tomorrow, the seeds of Arcane Civilization, and yet here they are, about to face their final assessment. I can’t just sit here and pretend everything’s fine when I sense doubt in the air. It’s... troubling, to say the least."

Nolan began pacing in a tight circle, as though the very emotions running through him demanded movement. His eyes gleamed like an actor’s on a grand stage, voice now carrying across the viewing deck.

"I am merely advocating what any true teacher should do. And that is to believe. To believe, Granfire! Wholeheartedly, without hesitation, without pause! Not in ourselves, but in them—those young souls down there who look up to us with such... such blind trust."

He waved his arms like a preacher possessed, and the onlookers—students, teachers, spectators, even a few mana knights—turned to watch him.

"I, for one, refuse to become the kind of instructor who simply shows up, throws a few incantations on the board, and leaves the rest to fate. No, no, no! I came here to nurture. To ignite. To inspire. Even when the odds seem slim, even when others mock or sneer... I stand by my students."

Granfire narrowed his eyes, hands clenched into fists behind his back. He could see it now. It was so clear!

The worst part?

He had done this exact performance just the day before when he’d walked into Nolan’s classroom.

But that time, he lost the bet and was scared shirtless.

He could still remember how his knees had nearly given out, how sweat had trickled down his neck while the eyes of Nolan’s devil class bore into him like sharp arrows. And now here was Nolan, flipping the script, throwing his very own lines back at him—with a smugness that made Granfire’s jaw twitch.

"I remember someone saying yesterday," Nolan went on, conveniently placing one foot on a nearby bench and gazing dramatically over the horizon, "that a real Mana Specialist must lead by example. That if we falter in our belief, then we fail in our duty. I remember those words so well—so bold, so beautiful. I think it was someone... tall. Serious face. Thick eyebrows. Always walking like he’s balancing a mountain on his shoulders. Ah, yes! Granfire, that was you, wasn’t it?"

Gasps, stifled laughter, and sharp whispers swept through the gathering teachers.

Granfire’s face turned a slow, simmering red, not from embarrassment, but from rage and the urge to throttle Nolan with his own ridiculous speech notes.

But Nolan wasn’t done.

"Now, I don’t want to assume anything," he continued smoothly, smiling, "but I must say, your hesitation... it casts a long shadow. If you truly believed in your students, you’d stand firm—confident, unshakable. You’d put your faith on the line, like I did yesterday, when I placed my 150 Mana Crystals at the mercy of fate because I trusted my students. Oh, how noble of me," he sighed, dramatically pressing a hand to his temple. "So noble..."

Granfire’s eyes twitched. What fuck!? I’m the one who proposed that deal!? Granfire couldn’t help but be speechless.

"And yet here we are. You, Granfire, hesitating. Trembling. As if your students are weak, unprepared, doomed to fail. Is that what you’re saying?" Nolan’s voice rose, thundering with feigned sorrow. "No, no, say it isn’t so! Tell us, tell the world, you believe in them!"

The teachers nearby were whispering frantically again, clearly enjoying the theater of it all.

A few even leaned in, whispering venom-laced commentary:

"That bastard’s at it,"

"He’s baiting Granfire like a puppet,"

"Unbelievable... but kind of inspiring?"

"I remember Granfire doing it to him in the past too."

"These two have vendetta with each other, for sure..."

Granfire’s pride—no, his very soul—was on the verge of combustion. He glanced down at the platform where his students were standing.

Their backs looked so small from here, like fledglings waiting to be shoved from the nest. And truthfully... he wasn’t sure they would fly.

But Nolan had cornered him with words. With memories. With the same righteous venom Granfire once used on him.

So he clenched his jaw, squared his shoulders, and bellowed, "Who says I don’t believe in them!?"

Everyone turned.

Granfire pointed a finger toward the arena, then turned to Nolan with a glare that could peel steel. "I’ll bet on them! 150 Mana Crystals!"

Nolan, who had been preparing another dramatic line, froze. His eyes twinkled. Then he smiled like a wolf that had just seen the last sheep hobble into a trap. "Oh? Truly? What a heartening sight... Very well then, I accept."

"Deal," Granfire said through clenched teeth.

Below, the announcer’s voice echoed through the stadium. "Granfire Class, step forward!"

The students looked nervous—jittery, uncertain—but they obeyed.

Nolan squinted as he tried to remember their names.

They were a blur to him, honestly.

A bunch of average faces with nothing remarkable, at least not to someone like him who specialized in spotting outliers.

Still, he grinned, practically vibrating. Yes! Yes! Come to me, my sweet 150 Mana Crystals!

Granfire, on the other hand, looked like he’d swallowed a fire crystal. His face was crimson, veins bulging at his temple. It didn’t help that Nolan stood beside him, rocking on his heels, humming a happy little tune like he was already planning how he’d spend the winnings.

Then, the announcer called out again, "Step forward, contestant. Are you ready?"

Before the students could answer, Nolan leaned over the railing and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Ready!!" he shouted cheerfully.

Granfire looked like he might leap off the edge just to escape.

The curtains down below were drawn open just slightly, revealing the test creature—just enough for the student to see the threat they would face.

A dark silhouette, hulking, twitching, radiating a suffocating demonic aura.

Its form was twisted and barely contained behind the layered enchantments of the holding gate.

Everyone tensed.

The student took one step forward... and froze.

Still.

Silent.

No movement.

A hush fell over the crowd.

Granfire’s stomach plummeted.

Nolan’s lips curled in anticipation.

One of the knights from the Black Vale Territory began approaching the student, prepared to escort him off the stage—standard procedure for candidates who froze under pressure.

Granfire groaned, reached into his robes, and started rummaging for the mana crystal pouch. Ready to pay Nolan.

Nolan’s pupils dilated, already envisioning the shine of blue mana crystals filling his hand. His tongue ran along his lips instinctively. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re min—

Then the student stirred.

Not with fear, nor with awe.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes fixed on the demonic creature, and opened his mouth:

"That shit is ugly. What is that?"

The words sliced through the silence like a whip.

"Eeeehhhh!?"

Everyone, absolutely everyone, from students to teachers, to the onlooking crowd, gasped in unison.

The knight who had been approaching halted in his tracks, one foot raised mid-step.

Granfire nearly choked on his own breath. His hand froze inside his robe, clutching the bag of crystals.

The Chief of Mana Knights, seated in the Black Vale Territory’s upper balcony, shot to his feet, eyes wide with disbelief.

The tension in the air fractured into shock, confusion, and raw curiosity.

Nolan, who had been mid-fantasy about a new pocket dimension vacation, felt his entire throat go dry.

His grin disappeared.

His hand fell limp.

His voice, once playful and giddy, caught in the back of his throat.

The arena didn’t move. For a moment, even time seemed to pause.

And then—

"Eeeehhhh!?" the entire stadium roared, louder, an uproar of disbelief and disbelief and—

Silence.

Just long enough for everyone to realize that no one, not a soul, had expected this.

Not Granfire.

Not Nolan.

Not even the Black Vale Knights.

And least of all—the ugly thing behind the curtain.