"Mr. Lowell, please visit the Finance Management Bureau."
It had not been long since Professor Clayton had asked me to come to his laboratory, and now, on my way down the corridor to my next lecture, I ran into Professor Calvi.
Elemental studies, an unpopular discipline, had only Professor Clayton teaching its students, but magic studies, the mainstream among mainstream fields, had no fewer than five professors teaching at this academy alone.
And Professor Calvi, among those five, was the professor who taught the highest-level magic and advanced theories. To most students, he was a mysterious figure whom it was difficult even to meet.
Ordinarily, if an average student met Professor Calvi, it meant one of two things.
It meant that their efforts and achievements had been recognized and they had been promoted to the advanced class—but that, for the moment, did not apply to me.
Then the answer was obvious.
When I entered the Finance Management Bureau, Professor Calvi stood amid the busy faculty members, holding a letter.
"This is the content delivered to us by Sir Karafin, Mr. Lowell's father. Please confirm it."
The document Professor Calvi handed me contained the following.
The tuition for the semester, already paid in full, was nonrefundable and would be left as is. However, the meal and dormitory fees necessary for daily life, as well as other expenses required for activities, were to be refunded if already paid, and any future costs were to be billed to Lowell von Adrian himself.
It seemed Lowell's father had decided to take this opportunity to correct Lowell's tyranny and bad manners.
Or perhaps he was sincerely thinking of severing the bond between father and son... Well, whichever it was, the fact that my situation had worsened did not change.
In short, it meant I was to take care of food, clothing, and shelter on my own from now on.
Of course, there was no guarantee he would pay next semester's tuition either, which meant I also had to come up with that astronomical sum myself.
For Lowell, the precious young master of a wealthy family who had lived his entire life with abundant support from his parents, this was probably the harshest punishment imaginable.
"So, Mr. Lowell, what do you intend to do from now on?"
Professor Calvi did not look at Lowell.
Of course, considering his position and duties within the academy, he likely had no particular need to meet Lowell in person.
He would have wanted to devote all his time to teaching and researching outstanding students, but when it came to handling the request from Lowell's father, Karafin von Adrian, the academy seemed to have decided that it should be dealt with by a professor of a certain authority and standing.
In other words, in this situation, Professor Calvi had appeared merely as a formality.
He likely had no real interest in what Lowell would do or in offering help, and was probably one of those who wished that a failing student who had parachuted into the academy solely through his family's power would simply leave.
"First, I intend to sort through the things I own and use them for living expenses for the time being."
It was clear that Lowell had lived like a complete disaster until now.
It was also true that he had committed all sorts of abuses within the academy, and there was no doubt that the very method by which he entered had not been a good look.
But he had not only played around.
Many other students had sharpened their talents and abilities, gaining recognition from those around them, or earned recognition by living diligently.
There were many other ways to gain acknowledgment as well.
Some established trading companies within the academy and monopolized teaching materials and school supplies, while others earned the goodwill of those around them and used it to overcome various problems.
The method Lowell chose was not a particularly good one.
Buying luxury goods and showing them off.
Of course, since Lowell had no talent, no ability, made no effort, and committed tyrannical acts around him without dignity, it would have been impossible to fill his lacking self-esteem with luxury goods alone. But the luxury items he had purchased were things that could be sold.
Some of them might even fetch a higher price when sold than when bought.
If he disposed of them, he might not be able to pay next semester's tuition or live lavishly, but he should at least be able to secure enough money to get by for now.
And when he heard that, Professor Calvi turned his gaze toward Lowell.
It was not a look of goodwill or interest.
"Wouldn't it be better to quit? Continuing any further will be meaningless, and quitting quickly would be the better choice for your life as well, Mr. Lowell."
Professor Calvi's words were not wrong.
If anything, they may have been sincere advice born from countless experiences.
Achieving something through effort alone is extremely difficult.
It may be hard to feel because what a person likes and what they are good at are usually similar, but liking something and having talent for it are different matters.
A person may have no talent for the thing they truly love.
Even if they do, they may feel insignificant when standing before someone with far greater talent.
For example, no matter how hard a child who dreams of becoming an idol singer works, they may not have the looks required to be chosen as an idol. Even if they do have the looks, they may find dorm life or the grueling schedule too much to endure.
Even if they possess innate talent and ability for being an idol, they may have been born in an era when idols did not exist, or their surroundings may not allow it, forcing them to give up.
And from the standpoint of someone involved in the field, who has met countless such people and seen both cases of success and failure, such words could naturally be spoken.
They are telling those with insignificant talent, who will be thoroughly pushed aside by others with shining gifts, to live a different life.
Just like Professor Calvi now.
From Professor Calvi's perspective, Lowell was a student blessed compared to others.
Even if children had innate talent for magic, if they had no parents, or had parents so bad it would have been better if they did not exist, they could not even enter the academy and would spend their whole lives without ever knowing they possessed talent.
But Lowell, with reliable parents and high status, was in a position where he could obtain anything he wanted even without magic.
How pathetic and foolish must it seem for someone who had everything to covet the one thing he did not possess?
And when that person was a wastrel who could not even be grateful for what he had and instead tyrannized those around him, there was no reason for sympathy to exist in the first place.
"I know there may be better choices for my life. However, I want to challenge the impossible."
Lowell's answer was enough to make Professor Calvi angry.
Magic was a realm of innate talent.
Just as we take it for granted that we have two hands and two feet, mages take casting magic for granted. But can you tell a person without arms or legs to move their limbs?
Of course, the academy did not teach only magic.
There were many truly diverse subjects, but the important point was that all of them, even if not entirely dependent on innate talent, were disciplines meant for those who had lived their whole lives for them.
If he had wanted to become a knight, he should have entered the Knight Department long ago, at a much younger age, with everything already completed.
If he had wanted to conduct research, he should already have proven sufficient grades.
He had no talent, and the timing was too late.
While other students were already at the stage where they should be making new discoveries, Lowell was in a position where he had to learn from the basics.
Magica Academy was the continent's greatest academy, a place that accepted children who were already complete and guided their talents into bloom. It was not a place that raised an utterly unprepared child up to an ordinary level.
There was no place for a talentless child in seats meant for geniuses and prodigies.
That was why Lowell's statement just now, that he wanted to "challenge the impossible," was, to Professor Calvi, nothing more and nothing less than a child pretending to be an adult.
"Mr. Lowell, I despise students like you. The only thing you have to rely on is the fact that you come from a somewhat reputable noble family, isn't it? To be honest, I think the very fact that trash like you exists in this academy is a nuisance."
Professor Calvi was of commoner birth.
That alone was reason enough for him to despise nobles.
I could not know how many insults and how much contempt he had endured throughout his life, but at least for Professor Calvi, this academy was the only place where one could be evaluated purely by talent and achievement, not status or wealth.
That was why the current Lowell had become such easy prey for Professor Calvi.
This problem child had no talent, no effort, and had even lost the support of his parents. Professor Calvi knew that if he frightened him just a little, his paltry resolve would quickly crumble, and he would flee back into his parents' arms like a child.
But there was one thing Professor Calvi had overlooked.
"Professor, I showed you a little courtesy, and now I suppose I don't even look like a person to you?"
"What?"
There are many talented people in the world.
No matter how talented I may be, there are countless people more talented than I am.
People look at them and call them prodigies or geniuses, admiring them.
A single genius can surpass hundreds of people.
But when they become intoxicated by that and grow arrogant, they often fall.
Can a human become as huge as an elephant through effort?
No matter how heaven-sent a genius one may be, no matter if one reaches the pinnacle of a field, one is still only a single human being.
And humans are social animals who must live together.
When they become drunk on their own talent and grow arrogant enough to judge and look down on others, geniuses are brought down by ordinary people.
So I would have to let him know.
"I respect your outstanding ability, but as a teacher, I do not think you have the right to be here."
That a genius who had forgotten his calling as a teacher, one who was supposed to teach students, had no right to remain a teacher.