Academy’s Undercover Professor-Chapter 219: Research Results (1)

Flora thought to herself:

The research that Ludger was leading wasn’t as difficult as she had expected.

Or more precisely—by her standards, it wasn’t.

Other students were drenched in sweat as they worked.

Even the noble Freuden had a few visible lines forming on his forehead.

‘At this rate, there’s not much else to watch. If I had to name a rival...’

Flora glanced sideways at Julia.

That mystical white hair and that unreadable, expressionless face—

She looked like a doll sculpted from fresh-fallen snow.

Wasn’t she ranked first among the new students?

Just looking at her gave Flora a gut feeling. This girl was the same kind as her.

But she didn’t feel the need to treat her as a rival.

They weren’t friends—but they weren’t antagonists either.

Flora’s attention wasn’t on students like Julia to begin with.

Her gaze turned toward Ludger.

And just then, Ludger seemed to sense her gaze—he gave her a passing glance, looked at the mana structure she had created, and nodded.

That was it.

‘...Seriously?’

Flora couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

‘Would it hurt to at least say I did well?’

Flora was a self-proclaimed, widely acknowledged genius—so she rarely needed to invest much time into effort.

Everything had always come far too easily.

But this time, she had made an effort.

She had cut into her rest time, worked on widening and refining her mana path, and even studied ahead for the next steps.

She had deliberately done something she normally wouldn’t—worked hard just to be seen in a better light.

All for one reason.

To hear Ludger say she’d done well.

But maybe Ludger’s expectations for her were simply too high.

He seemed to take the results she produced for granted.

‘Am I just too good? This... this is not good.’

Flora felt a confusing tangle of emotions.

She couldn’t tell if she should be happy or frustrated.

Her head understood that the evaluation was fair—she was that good—but her heart didn’t agree at all.

Her face heated up.

She felt sulky for no reason.

Then she caught sight of Ludger kindly instructing the still-awkward Rine.

He was gently guiding a student who hadn’t fully formed her mana path yet.

And that scene—it was exactly the kind of moment Flora had longed to experience for herself.

‘Seriously? He doesn’t treat me like that at all.’

That commoner girl again?

Ludger might have been pretending otherwise, but Flora could tell.

Compared to others, Ludger was unusually kind only to that girl—Rine.

That stung her pride.

Looks... well, she was confident in her own, but Rine was undeniably pretty too, so she set that aside.

Family... well, Flora was from a great house, but considering how she was treated within it, it wasn’t exactly something to brag about. So that was also off the table.

‘Fine. Then magic ability. That’s what we Seorn students should be competing with.’

And in terms of magic ability, she was better.

That girl tried hard, sure—but she wasn’t even in the same league. Flora was called a genius even within Seorn.

In other words, there was no contest when it came to magic.

Yet Ludger was paying her less attention?

‘That’s... unfair.’

Flora looked at the mana thread she had constructed.

Even by her own standards, it was breathtakingly precise and clean.

Flora boldly erased it.

Then raised her hand high.

“Professor, I have a question.”

Ludger turned toward her.

Maybe he hadn’t expected her to ask a question—there was a flicker of suspicion in his gaze.

Flora felt a twinge of guilt, but she’d already committed, so she decided to be brazen.

“Could you tell me what I should do, Professor?”

“...Very well.”

Ludger replied and walked over to stand beside her.

Flora, in her heart, shouted yes!—but as his face drew closer, her own face began to flush.

“So, what exactly isn’t working properly?”

“Uh, um, I mean...”

“Your face is red. Are you feeling unwell?”

“Wh-what? Me? N-no, I’m not really sick or anything...”

“Do you have a fever?”

Ludger raised his hand and placed it on her forehead.

Flora’s mind went blank.

She’d acted on impulse, but now that it was actually happening, her heart pounded so hard that her ability to think rationally shut down.

“Hm. Doesn’t seem like you have a fever. Try forming the mana thread again.”

“...Y-yes.”

And so, Flora, without thinking—just following instinct and his instruction—formed the mana thread naturally.

And in a perfect form.

“Perfect. Doesn’t seem like there’s any issue.”

“...Huh?”

Flora realized her mistake.

Ah—no! I was supposed to mess it up on purpose!

She regretted it, but it was already too late.

“Since it looks good, I’ll head back now.”

And Ludger walked away again, just like that.

Flora sulked inwardly.

* * *

A week passed since the research began.

Just as promised at the start, the research had come to an end.

The students, who had spent the last week drinking mana suppressants and carrying sandbags, were finally free.

“My body feels so light... It’s only been a week, but I feel completely different.”

Rine inspected herself and couldn’t hide her amazement.

Even though the mana suppression hadn’t lasted that long, the shift in sensation was refreshing.

More than anything, now that the pressure that had weighed down her body was gone, she felt like she could fly.

“Everyone, come here and prepare for mana output measurement.”

At Ludger’s instruction, the students began their measurement process.

Mana output was measured in a tightly controlled room.

A large disc was set into the floor, with a crystal orb-like artifact positioned at the center.

The method was simple.

Place both hands on the crystal orb and pour in as much mana as possible.

The mana would then flow from the orb into the large disc, circulate internally, and measure the total amount.

The time allotted was three seconds.

Since it measured instantaneous output, the time limit wasn’t long.

One by one, all six students completed their measurements.

“The results are in.”

At Ludger’s words, the students all swallowed nervously.

Even Julia, who was always composed, couldn’t fully hide her tension.

“The average mana output measured a week ago was approximately 12 percent. I’ve already told you this, so you should remember.”

Now, after seven days of intensive training and mana path realization, the new measurements—

Ludger finally revealed them.

“Today’s measured results: your average output across all six of you is 36 percent. That’s a 24 percent increase. In other words, three times higher. There’s some individual variation, of course, but overall, it’s accurate.”

“T-three times?!”

The students were shocked—and even the staff managing the measurement room widened their eyes at the numbers.

The observers gathered for the first time since the first day also couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

“Thirty-six percent? How is that even possible?”

“Wait, could the measurements be faulty or something?”

Suspicious, they re-ran the test—twice, three times even—but the results didn’t change.

Pre-training: 12 percent.

Post-training: 36 percent. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

No variation across attempts.

“Oh my god. It really tripled.”

“I mean, I did feel more energized... but was it really that much?”

Aidan, Rine, and Erendir were purely joyful.

Flora, Julia, and Freuden didn’t show it outwardly, but even they were quietly amazed at the change within themselves.

‘It was real...’

Flora looked at Ludger with reverent eyes.

He stood there as always—calm and composed, watching the results unfold.

While everyone around them reacted with shock, he remained aloof.

There wasn’t a trace of personal pride or satisfaction at their success.

He was so calm, it was almost unsettling.

‘Did he truly expect things to turn out this way all along?’

Flora knew that Ludger had grown stronger using this very method.

But there had been no guarantee it would work the same for others.

Even so, Ludger had gathered people, conducted research, and passed on his teachings.

If he had failed, the ridicule would’ve been tremendous.

Everything he had built could have collapsed in an instant.

Yet he had not feared. He hadn’t stopped.

And now, this was the result.

‘How... how can someone be like that?’

How could someone be that strong?

How could he walk his path without even the slightest hesitation?

‘I really thought it wouldn’t work...’

Ludger, staring at the results, felt a wave of relief.

In truth, he’d been silently anxious—what if something unexpected ruined everything?

Fortunately, the outcome surpassed even his expectations.

Just then, one of the mages from the Old Mage Tower stepped up to the artifact at the center of the room.

“I can’t believe this. You’re telling me all that changed in just one week? Something’s off. Maybe the measurement device is broken!”

At his words, the observer from the School Alliance nodded in agreement.

He hadn’t said anything, but his thoughts weren’t far off from the Old Tower mage’s.

The Old Tower mage touched the artifact and poured in as much mana as he could.

He knew the device must be faulty.

He was sure of it.

But when the result came up, his lips trembled.

[Maximum Mana Output: 15%]

It wasn’t even half of the students’ current output.

Still, objectively speaking, 15% was respectable.

The problem was... it was exactly in line with his own output.

‘You’re telling me... the device isn’t broken?’

He had been hoping it was faulty.

But looking at this result, it was clear there had been no malfunction.

His head began to spin.

“Oh my. Don’t tell me you didn’t trust the results?”

The Chancellor’s voice brushed past his ear, and the mage flinched.

“A-hem. No, it’s not that I didn’t trust it. I just... wanted to be sure. As an observer, it’s important to be thorough, isn’t it?”

The fact that he’d just declared “I don’t believe this” had already vanished from his mind.

“It was just—just a minor misunderstanding.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared it up.”

“Hahaha...”

The mage from the Old Mage Tower forced an awkward laugh, while the observer from the School Alliance wiped cold sweat, trying to read the room.

He was just glad the Old Tower had become the scapegoat—but that didn’t mean he felt proud of himself either.

“W-we’ll take our leave now.”

With that perfunctory line, the observers began to leave the room.

Only Lushek, the representative from the New Mage Tower, gave a respectful bow.

The Chancellor returned the gesture with a light nod, then turned her gaze to Ludger.

“You’ve done well, Professor Ludger. You’ve presented some truly impressive results.”

“It’s too early to celebrate. To dispel all doubt, I’ll need to measure the students’ mana output regularly over the next three days. We must confirm this isn’t just a short-term spike.”

Someone might claim the students’ output was artificially boosted by drugs.

To prevent that accusation, Ludger planned additional measurements for the next three days.

Most mana-enhancing drugs lose effectiveness after a day, so three days would be enough.

Those drugs were expensive, their effects short-lived, and they often caused side effects.

So to remove any suspicion, more precise monitoring was necessary.

“If that proves true, it’ll shake the academic world to its core.”

“Chancellor. I trust you haven’t forgotten your promise.”

“Of course not. With you putting in this much good faith, how could I possibly go back on my word?”

The Chancellor had gone to great lengths to arrange this event ever since she first reviewed the documents Ludger had submitted.

“Congratulations. Soon, many people will come to know about your great discovery.”

“Is that so.”

“Hm? That doesn’t sound like someone who’s happy. Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

Ludger brushed it off.

‘Now... there’s truly no going back.’

A few days from now—

Once # Nоvеlight # the news of this presentation spreads, there will be no undoing it.

Because in the end, this wasn’t purely his achievement.

‘Now that I’ve shared the method Master taught me... I really won’t be able to disappear anymore.’

He had no intention of revealing the formula for the mana suppressant.

But... would that really be enough?

He believed this step was necessary—but the backlash it might cause was frightening to even imagine.

People pestering him?

That was fine.

It was already happening anyway.

He could just ignore them, as always.

‘But Master... is different.’

The moment he used her blood, she would have awakened.

She would know.

She’d figure out what her runaway disciple had done behind her back.

‘If I see her again... should I just apologize right away?’

He might actually die.

You’d think—surely she wouldn’t kill her own disciple—but his master’s temperament was impossible to predict.

While Ludger kept a blank face, pondering that possibility, the Chancellor watched him with interest sparkling in her eyes.

‘He just produced results like this, and yet he doesn’t even flinch. He’s even more fascinating than I thought.’

She knew the name and identity “Ludger Cherish” were false.

But his outstanding abilities made her all the more curious—who was he really?

Why had he come to Seorn?

What was he hoping to gain?

It didn’t seem like he was here to take anything from Seorn.

If anything, based on what she had seen so far, it felt like he was desperate to give everything he had to others.

A man more of a teacher than most actual teachers.

That was how the Chancellor saw Ludger Cherish.

‘I’m curious. What’s this man’s true identity?’

And someday, perhaps—

When enough time has passed—

Maybe he’ll tell her who he really is.