Academy’s Undercover Professor-Chapter 227: Arcane Chamber (3)

All attention in the chamber turned toward Clinton.

He was the most revered mage in the room.

No matter how fervent the arguments of over a thousand mages might be, a single word from Clinton would outweigh them like a feather in the wind.

That’s why everyone hoped he would make the final decision.

Watching the scene unfold, Ludger thought to himself:

“None of them are even considering me. They’re all just trying to settle this amongst themselves. So this is the best I get, even with Seorn’s name behind me.”

He had expected some resistance, but not open arguments demanding he be forced to share his discovery.

“I thought that, given where we are, these so-called mages would at least pretend to behave.”

Then again, maybe that was ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) just proof of how desperately every mage here craved the knowledge on display.

If anyone was to blame, it was himself—for presenting a result too valuable to ignore.

“In a way, I should be grateful I’m a teacher at Seorn. If I were just some freelance mage with no backing, I’d have been stripped of everything and left to die in an alley.”

He may have avoided the worst, but that didn’t mean the situation was good.

People consumed by greed were already figuring out how to pressure him into giving up the information.

And now...

What Clinton said next would determine everything.

“Haha... You people expect far too much from this old man. Still, both sides of the argument have their merit, so it’s not easy to make a judgment.”

With that, Clinton continued:

“I shall remain neutral. I don’t care for the idea of my decision tipping the scales one way or another. Call it old age—no energy to bother. What matters is the will of the researcher himself.”

He used his age as an excuse to declare neutrality.

In a way, that was fortunate. But at the same time, it was frustrating that no final ruling would be made.

Still, even as he said that, Clinton didn’t take his eyes off Ludger.

There was a subtle expectation in his gaze.

Ludger knew what he meant.

“He wants me to settle this.”

Beneath Clinton’s gentle facade was a calculating mind.

No wonder he had risen to the position of Imperial Archmage.

Skill mattered, but no one reached such heights without political savvy.

Ludger inwardly scoffed.

A slippery old snake.

In the end, the one who had to settle things was him.

The decision had been dumped on him—but he didn’t mind.

Letting someone else decide his fate never suited him.

No matter the outcome, the choice would be his and his alone.

“I’ve heard all your opinions,” Ludger said calmly.

The mages, who were just beginning to bicker again, all fell silent.

“I never expected my research to be the subject of such wide discussion. First of all, allow me to thank you for your excessive attention.”

“...What’s he up to now?”

“What kind of game is he playing?”

The fact that Ludger was speaking so confidently seemed strange to some, and suspicious murmurs spread.

“However, this research belongs solely to me. Watching others try to decide what to do with it for their own ends—without my input—is not something I appreciate.”

A loud stir rippled through the audience.

Some mages were confused. Others nodded in agreement.

The tension spread outward in waves, then gradually centered again—around Ludger.

“No matter what conclusion the rest of you come to, my decision will not change.”

At those firm words, Auguste narrowed his eyes.

“Are you saying, Mr. Ludger Cherish, that you do not intend to release the results of this research?”

“You plan to hoard it all for yourself?”

Caroline glared at him, eyes blazing.

Ludger responded with a question of his own:

“Then let me ask—if I do share the information, what benefit is there to me?”

“...You’ve already earned enough. What greater honor could you possibly seek?”

Auguste, realizing how that sounded, quickly added:

“...Of course, if you make such a generous decision, we’ll ensure you are rewarded accordingly.”

“That reward will never match the value of what I’ve discovered. Not even close.”

It was an arrogant statement—but Auguste didn’t deny it.

“Then what exactly are you thinking?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t considered the possibility that someone would try to forcibly take my research in this place. It makes it difficult to answer.”

Auguste’s brow furrowed.

Ludger was clearly implying that they were in the wrong.

And he wasn’t wrong.

Demanding someone release their findings by force was an authoritarian stance.

But slap on the label “for the public good,” and suddenly it sounds righteous.

“This is for the benefit of everyone.”

The public good.

No phrase could justify coercion more effectively than that.

Ludger laughed at Auguste’s words—internally.

Had the room been evenly split, that would’ve been one thing. But looking around, the majority now leaned slightly in favor of disclosure.

Even Headmaster Elisa, who had tried to protect him, was glancing around in growing unease.

“Then, Mr. Ludger Cherish... are you saying you reject the idea of contributing to the public good?”

“In that case, let me ask you, Lord Auguste. What do you think I’m going to say?”

Ludger stared directly at him, unblinking.

Auguste fell silent.

What would he say?

A typical mage would give in under pressure and reluctantly agree.

But Ludger? Ludger had just flipped the question on its head.

He was practically daring them to guess—What do you think I’m going to do?

Ludger’s gaze moved from Auguste to Caroline, then to Loina.

“Tell me—what do you think I’m going to say?”

No one answered.

The expressions of those seated on the high platform grew stiff and unreadable.

Gulp.

Someone swallowed audibly.

Ludger’s unyielding presence made it feel as if he was ready to fight, here and now, if necessary.

Is he really going to do it? In front of everyone?

Is he really going to refuse them all?

Has he completely lost it?

A whirlwind of emotions—panic, expectation, anxiety—filled the air.

At last, Auguste opened his mouth.

“So... what you’re saying is, you refuse our request?”

“Refuse?”

Ludger slowly shook his head.

Deliberately.

So everyone could see it.

“Quite the opposite.”

“...What?”

“I don’t know where that assumption came from, but I’ll say this only once—so listen carefully.”

“...What are you—”

“I will release the information.”

For a moment, the entire chamber went still. No one quite processed what they’d heard.

Three seconds later—

A wave of shock swept through the Arcane Chamber.

“This decision was made by me alone. No one forced my hand. And I will bear all consequences and responsibilities that come with it.”

This was not a favor granted by their charity—it was an honor he claimed.

Not something they could snatch from him—it was his to bestow.

Every choice—

Was his alone.

“...Wait, are you serious?” Caroline asked, eyes wide.

The disbelief in her eyes had not yet faded.

“Yes. Isn’t this the answer you’ve all been pressing me to give?”

“I— That’s not really what I meant...”

Even she hadn’t expected him to accept so easily.

Just a moment ago, he had looked ready to go to war.

Why the sudden reversal?

Auguste, Caroline, and Loina—who had all pushed for disclosure—were stunned.

So too were those who had stood to protect him.

“Really? You’re sharing it?”

“He said so, didn’t he?”

“This is insane... That kind of information... and he’s just going to give it away?”

Whispers spread like wildfire.

In this boiling cauldron of magical chaos, the only one who remained calm—

Was the archmage Clinton.

He looked like he was barely holding back from bursting into laughter.

‘Hahaha. I’ve been had. Completely and utterly had.’

Clinton realized what Ludger was planning the moment he opened his mouth.

‘He intended to release it from the beginning.’

The mages gathered here had been so stunned by Ludger’s research results that they couldn’t think straight.

And because he had only presented the final product, deliberately omitting the most crucial part—the process—they naturally assumed he was hiding something.

Up until now, Ludger had consistently maintained an unyielding stance.

Then, out of nowhere, he said he would release the information.

“For the sake of the public good, I will release it—so compensation from the Arcane Chamber is unnecessary.”

“...You truly don’t want anything?”

“This is not something done under threat or persuasion, but a choice I made entirely on my own. Why should I be compensated for doing what is right?”

So watch closely, all of you.

As he spoke, Ludger conjured letters in midair with his mana.

“This is the method for crafting the magic suppressant you all desired.”

The moment they saw it, Auguste realized something was wrong.

‘Damn it. I’ve been played.’

His whole purpose in pressuring Ludger was to prevent him from hoarding valuable information.

And if Ludger were to agree to disclose it, Auguste had planned to subtly coax him into handing it over to the Old Magic Tower first.

Other groups wouldn’t just stand by, of course—but that was fine.

It would only entrench the ongoing factional conflict.

But Ludger had thrown everything off course by revealing it here and now—

To every single one of the over five thousand mages present.

The mages in the audience had wide, unblinking eyes, yet their hands never stopped scribbling down Ludger’s formula.

‘There’s no stopping it now.’

The goal of preventing a monopoly by any one person had been achieved.

But the next step—securing the research for his own faction—was now utterly lost thanks to Ludger’s abrupt decision.

Among the five thousand mages gathered, many were unaffiliated freelancers.

Now that they all knew the formula, by tomorrow even dogs and pigs would know of the suppressant’s existence.

Old Tower, New Tower, the Federation of Schools—

None of them would have a claim to act first anymore.

And at the same time, everyone would sing Ludger’s praises.

‘Was that your plan all along?’

If the information couldn’t be withheld, then make sure not a single soul was left out.

“Since I believe everyone’s seen it, I’ll erase it now.”

Ludger withdrew his mana, and the letters vanished.

No one seemed disappointed.

Everyone who needed to see it had already seen it.

“Though it took many long, arduous years of effort to discover this, I’m willing to offer myself up for the future of magical academia and for the next generation of aspiring mages.”

Those calm words sparked a thunderous wave of applause and cheers from the audience.

“My god. He’s sharing that with everyone?”

“Do you know how hard it must’ve been to make that decision? He’s like a living saint!”

“Ludger Cherish! Ludger Cherish!”

Some were even moved to tears.

Even Caroline—who had been seated beside Auguste—was no exception.

“That guy... he was a good person all along? And I didn’t even realize...”

Caroline, who had initially doubted Ludger, was now caught in the trap of his performance like everyone else.

Auguste finally understood.

Even though Ludger had been stripped of control over the information, the true victor in this room...

Was Ludger.

“I thank you all for coming here today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave.”

Ludger bowed politely.

And the spotlight that had been pouring down from the ceiling abruptly turned off.

The regular academic conference of the Arcane Chamber had come to an end.

Yet even with everything over, none of the mages rose from their seats.

The emotional weight of what they had just witnessed still roared in their hearts.

* * *

Outside the hall, Ludger walked down the corridor with the headmaster beside him.

She asked:

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Releasing the information. You didn’t have to. Was it really okay to act on impulse like that?”

“I didn’t act on impulse. It was all calculated.”

“You’re saying you planned from the start to give up every advantage?”

“In the end, the information would’ve been made public sooner or later. Any benefit I could gain in the meantime wouldn’t amount to much. If anything, clinging to it would only have isolated me.”

“...Well, yes. The ingredients in the suppressant are all quite common and easy to get.”

“Prices will spike for now, but people will soon realize the truth. The suppressant only works for young mages. The demand won’t outweigh the supply.”

Elisa seemed to understand—somewhat.

“Still, you could’ve given me some warning. Do you know how shocked I was?”

“If I startled you, I apologize. But no one could be told. I needed to control the momentum in that room.”

After all, something seems bigger when you first act like you’ll never give it, then offer it anyway.

To do that, a flawless performance was necessary—and sometimes even allies needed to be deceived.

Elisa grumbled, half-pouting:

“Do you realize how many people’s emotions you toyed with using that little act?”

“I don’t really pay attention to things like that.”

“Oh, I give up. Still... it does feel oddly satisfying. But also, weirdly disappointing. You had so much to gain.”

“There’s no need to worry.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Even if they know how to make it, they won’t get the results they want.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Knowing the ingredients and proportions doesn’t mean you can replicate it.”

Sure, they were all excited now and would rush to create it.

But soon, they’d realize something crucial was missing from the process.

“I’ll say it again. There’s no need to worry.”

“...I wasn’t going to, but now I feel like I’ll have to, thanks to someone.”

“Is that so. Well, for now, we should focus on greeting our guest.”

“Guest?”

It was then Elisa noticed someone blocking the hallway in their path.

Caroline Monarch.

The moment Elisa recognized her, her expression turned cold.