The Academy’s Professor is Overpowered!

Once more, I found myself on the outskirts of the city.

Though the streets were still dimmed by the fog, the sun had started to fight back.

I walked through the downtrodden paths at the edge of the city. On the seventh block behind the fountain square, a building that stood out even amongst the dilapidated houses around was erected.

Long patches of wild grass had grown all around it.

I stepped through the grass, pulling my hat low.

The thin wooden door looked like it might fall off if someone gave it a couple kicks of love. The rotting planks that held up the structure weren’t much better either.

Tap tap, I knocked on the door.

No response.

I knocked again, a little harder this time.

A sigh left me.

Around the back was a window. I moved over to that spot. Dirt and dust had clouded on the glass pane. With the hems of my sleeves, I rubbed some of it away, but only darkness greeted me back.

“Guess there’s no option…”

The door was my only way inside. I held the handle tight and firmly pushed it with my shoulders.

A snap rang as the wooden latch was rooted off its screws.

“Ahak!”

Dust, a lot of dust came rushing right outside, along with a horrible stench. Even the city’s sewers might smell better.

I frowned and stepped inside the house, slamming the door shut behind me.

Darkness was everywhere in this room. I couldn’t see anything.

“Matches…”

Thankfully they were in my pockets. With a sizzle, a match lit up and the room around me finally registered to my eyes.

Mold and fungus had grown at every corner of the house. I moved the match around and stepped ahead.

My feet hit something as a rattle echoed in the room.

The match blew off.

“Hah…”

I lit another and lowered it to the ground. The entire floor was littered with bottle after bottle of alcohol.

Alongside the bottles were dozens and dozens of booklets and flyers all over the floor.

The mark of three swords and a shield. I knew this one.

A symbol of a radical group of people who wanted to bring down the monarchy. It was not uncommon to find such ‘revolutionaries,’ especially during wartime.

But this symbol was one that even the revolutionaries did not like. It was nothing but a gathering of drunks and gamblers who blamed the world for their problems.

The windows too. I couldn’t see through them not because the room was dark, but because they were closed off with planks.

Anyone with a sick hangover might do just that.

I waded through the sea of bottles and the waves of dirt. The increasingly strong stench was my guide as I passed by another door and found the bedroom.

There was no bed inside, only more bottles of beer and paper bags. An entire troop of cockroaches slithered out of them when a rolling bottle hit it.

What the hell was this place?

Another match.

In the middle of this garbage treasury, a man was lying down on the ground.

Calling him a man was wrong.

A single half-drunk bottle of alcohol had fallen next to him, right between dozens and dozens of emptied bottles. Alongside them, a dried-out puddle of black, dried blood.

I lit the next match closer to the man. Gray, loose skin, and a pile of bones. His hair was falling out, the only body part he could still move were his eyes and all the sound he could make was the small groans he uttered.

He had cut his body in many places whenever he fell to the ground.

It was a miracle that rats had not eaten him alive.

The man was in no condition to talk.

There was no doubt about it. It was the curse of the succubi. One that must have been ailing him for a long time. With no one to care for him, he was much worse off than Jackie’s old man.

“How did Glorenstein ever hire a man like you?” I asked. It was pointless, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Couldn’t have gotten in without some solid connections, is that right?”

I lit another match.

I couldn’t waste time on this guy. But I also couldn’t leave him alone.

If I left him alone, he would die. No matter how much of a scum he was, he would die.

Deaths… we had had enough of those. I took out a potion and administered it on his wounds first. He groaned and writhed in pain.

This much was enough. I’d ask Jackie to handle the rest, get him to a doctor.

The match burned to the base and went off.

Another.

I was hesitating.

But I couldn’t afford to. Time was running out. Every moment was dangerous.

I picked up the half-drunk bottle and rolled it in my hands, flipped it up to see the stamp at the very bottom.

A sigh left me.

I dropped the bottle and pressed my temple fingers.

“Damn it…”

This was the worst.

“Just… haah…”

***

I left the dying, cursed ex-janitor in Jackie’s care.

Everything I had to see, I had seen.

Passing through the streets, my steps led me to the center of the city once more.

In the battle between the sun and the fog, the fog had won and once again covered the city. It was only the din of the city that didn’t stop whether it was rain or shine which kept me sane.

Even though my steps were slow, the destination I was headed to came closer and closer until it was right in front of me.

A place none would visit this early in the morning, especially not in the city of education.

The overhead bells chimed as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

A sweet scent wafted through the air, inside the place lit up by small fires and lamps.

The bar, one of the most famous in Glorenstein, had no one but me and the owner in the place.

“Oh! If it isn’t!” He smiled and greeted me right away, gesturing at the stools on the counter. “Too early for drinks, isn’t it? Are kids that troublesome, young lad?”

“Not really,” I said. “It’s not the kids, never the kids. It’s the adults that trouble each other.”

I pulled a stool back and slammed two stones on the counter as I sat.

“Here to complain about your boss then? Just let me finish wiping these glasses…”

The man tossed the cloth away and finally turned to face me.

“So! What can I get for you?”

I looked back into his eyes. Met his gaze.

“How about the demiurges?”

“... What…?”

“Where are you hiding them, Mundus?”