The Academy is Doomed

C52



Chapter 52

At the current point when the Academy officially resumed operations, the management of finances, including the operational funds granted by the royal family and other revenues, was overseen by the headmaster and vice headmaster.

The two agreed to split the Academy’s operational funds evenly: the headmaster would use her share for the Academy’s “future,” while the vice headmaster would use her share for the Academy’s “present.”

However, the safe, where the vice headmaster’s operational funds should have been stored, was completely empty.

‘I don’t know the exact amount, but since the royal family granted it directly, it must be substantial. But she spent the entire half of the operational funds on ordering King Wyvern oil?’

Tears streamed down Amon’s tightly closed eyes.

“Vice Headmaster…”

“…”

“No, not just the Vice Headmaster.”

Amon looked down at the writhing Brestle and muttered,

“You damn Dark Elf…”

“Ugh… ow… my head…”

Holding her head as if it had been split in two, Brestle cried out in pain,

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What am I doing? Why are you asking the question I should be asking?”

Amon shoved the contract in front of Brestle’s face.

“Sponsoring a King Wyvern subjugation team? You invested all the Academy’s funds under your management here? What were you thinking?”

“Hmph… You fool, knowing only one thing and not the other…”

Brestle growled, raising her head defiantly and shouted,

“Do you have any idea how delicious pilaf made with King Wyvern oil is…!”

Brestle’s words were cut short.

Amon’s chop landed squarely on her crown, slamming her head back to the ground.

Amon, who had interrupted her in a somber tone, meticulously reviewed the contract.

‘Damn it, there’s got to be a loophole somewhere…wait? The contract is with a mercenary group?’

Amon’s eyes gleamed.

The King Wyvern subjugation contract was with a mercenary group.

‘The Silver Sword Mercenary Corps… I’ve heard of them. They were active in the Great War and are famous for clearing dungeons and monsters. But…’

A sly smile appeared on Amon’s lips.

‘Mercenaries? Do they even know how to read? They probably scribbled this contract in a rush!’

A crossing-the-line disparagement!

However, Amon’s assumption was only half correct.

Hastily formed mercenary groups, desperate to make a living, often fell into such dubious contracts.

Most mercenaries Amon had seen in the nearby towns of the remote Arma Mountain Range were like that.

But this was Amur, a commercial city!

Amon, trembling, pointed to the seal at the corner of the contract.

“…Count Deblé? He’s the guarantor of this contract?”

Brestle, struggling, raised her head and said,

“C-Count Deblé is a noble in this city and a sponsor of the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps.”

“…”

Large mercenary groups were often backed by nobles.

An unimaginable luxury for the shabby mercenaries near the Arma Mountains!

‘It’s over.’

With a noble involved in the contract, even if there was a loophole, it would be hard to break.

‘…But there’s not even a loophole. It’s a straightforward contract.’

Half of the Academy’s entire operational funds were wasted on oil for pilaf.

Yet Amon, a man who didn’t know how to give up, wasn’t ready to surrender to this setback.

“…Get up.”

“Uh, what?”

Brestle hesitated, her drooping ears twitching as he got up.

“Are you going to hit me?”

“No.”

Brestle’s ears perked up a little.

“But I might soon.”

Her ears drooped again at that.

Watching Brestle closely, Amon turned and said,

“Let’s go.”

“G-Go? Go where all of a sudden?”

Amon replied with a grim expression,

“To the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps’ office.”

Tomorrow was the weekend.

‘So, we have time. Yes, plenty of time… but…’

However, the problem was that the King Wyvern the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps had to face was a monster on par with an Elder Drake.

Amon, who had a grudge against Elder Drakes for ruining his potato fields, was wary of the King Wyvern, a monster of comparable power.

‘A mere mercenary group tackling such a beast? Not a chance.’

That’s why he rushed to meet the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps.

Since canceling the contract outright seemed impossible, he intended to persuade them somehow.

It would be suicide to set off like this.

He planned to imprint that fact on them and either cancel the contract or mutually agree to terminate it.

How long had they waited in the commander’s office of the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps?

“Thank you for waiting, Ms. Brestle.”

A middle-aged man with a sharp appearance entered the office, smiling warmly.

“I was a little delayed because of the departure preparations. So, what brings you here today?”

As Brestle silently averted her gaze, the man realized it was because of Amon sitting beside her and asked cautiously,

“And who might this gentleman be?”

“Ah, Amon from our Academy…”

Amon quickly cut Brestle off,

“I am Amon Drake, Head of Academic Affairs at Amonis Academy.”

“Ah, the Head of Academic Affairs. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Maitre, leader of the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps.”

After a brief handshake, Amon got to the point.

“I’m here to discuss the King Wyvern subjugation commissioned by our vice headmaster.”

“Ah, yes, Ms. Brestle’s commission… the King Wyvern oil request?”

Maitre’s pleasant smile vanished the moment business was mentioned, replaced by a more dangerous expression befitting a mercenary.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

Maitre’s words implied Amon should get straight to the point, so Amon spoke directly.

“The King Wyvern is dangerous. I advise you to give up on the subjugation because your mercenary corps might be annihilated.”

“…What?”

Blinking in disbelief, Maitre laughed out loud.

“Haha! What nonsense are you talking about…?”

Shaking his head, he said,

“You don’t seem to know much about our Silver Sword Mercenary Corps…”

“Oh, I do. You were active in the Great War, conquered the Asurai Grand Dungeon, and defeated numerous large monsters like serpents and krakens. I believe that’s enough to acknowledge the capabilities of the Silver Sword Mercenary Corps.”

Maitre narrowed his eyes.

“So, you’re saying that even with our skills, we won’t be able to handle the King Wyvern?”

“Yes. Have you ever hunted a King Wyvern before?”

“…Do you even know what a King Wyvern is?”

“Yes.”

Amon’s voice was as sharp as a blade as he continued,

“I’m from the Arma Mountains.”

“Wait, Arma Mountains…?”

Maitre also appeared visibly taken aback by Amon’s words.

“A-Arma Mountains? Isn’t that the land of death at the continent’s edge?”

“…People live there. It’s not exactly a land of death.”

“But I’ve heard it’s a den of dangerous monsters swarming everywhere…”

As his hometown was insulted again, Amon responded with a twisted smile.

“Then, am I some beast that crawled out of that den? Sure, there are plenty of monsters, but it’s still livable.”

“Hmm…”

“In any case, King Wyverns are extremely, extremely dangerous monsters. Think Elder Drake level, if that helps.”

“E-Elder Drake?”

“Yes. Elder Drake.”

For a moment, a smile flickered across Mate’s eyes.

“Haha…Elder Drake.”

“…”

“Elder Drakes are nothing but legendary creatures mentioned in old books or fairy tales, right?”

“What?”

What nonsense is this?

Amon had just seen one ravage the Drake Estate’s potato fields not long ago!

But, outside the Arma Mountains, that was the perception. Even Marion didn’t believe in Elder Drakes appearing.

To Maitre, Amon’s words seemed like a desperate attempt to renege on the contract.

“Tch, I think I understand why you’re here.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Maitre pulled out a document, sighed, and began scribbling with a quill.

“Changed your mind after signing the contract, huh? No need for roundabout excuses. I’ll terminate it for you.”

Amon’s eyes widened in surprise.

Maitre seemed to misunderstand, but Amon’s goal was being achieved.

“Really?”

“Yes. However, since more than half the advance has already been spent on supplies, I can’t refund that.”

“What?”

“And after deducting penalties…”

Maitre handed over the document.

“This is the remaining amount you can reclaim.”

Amon’s jaw dropped.

It was less than one-fifth of the original sum!

But more shocking was the amount Brestle had sunk into the oil request.

Without realizing it, Amon delivered a sharp chop to Brestle’s neck.

“You crazy Dark Elf!”

“Ugh!”

“All that money! For oil!”

“Kehack! Cough, cough!”

Brestle coughed violently, clutching her neck, while Maitre, startled, watched the scene unfold in disbelief.

It was a rare sight—a director beating a vice-principal!

Mate quickly composed himself, clearing his throat.

“Hrm, well, I’m only adhering to the contract. If you have further issues, take it to court.”

“Grr…”

Grinding his teeth, Amon retorted, “Forget the contract. I’m seriously warning you. Attempting to hunt the King Wyvern will result in annihilation.”

“Haha! You’re underestimating us too much.”

“I’m not—”

“Our mercenary group’s record of slaying Wyverns could fund Amur’s annual budget. We’ve even slain dozens of Drakes!”

Amon closed his eyes in frustration.

He had seen King Wyverns casually snatch up regular Drakes and soar away like pigeons.

‘Ignorant fools.’

If they went, annihilation was certain.

Not that Amon cared. But…

‘The contract fee would vanish into thin air.’

Even the measly fifth they’d recover would disappear if they canceled.

‘That won’t do. I need to recover the principal.’

If not, the Academy would face another financial crisis. And who knows what the Headmaster would do next? Bet on unicorn races?

Lost in thought, Amon finally spoke.

“You’re departing tonight?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. We plan to camp near the King Wyvern’s nest and launch our assault at dawn.”

“Understood…”

Amon opened his eyes.

Tomorrow was the weekend. No classes.

“We’ll accompany you.”

“…What?”

“As the client, it’s only right we observe.”

“Well… It’s dangerous.”

Pointing at the dejected Brestle, Amon said, “We are vice-principal and director of the esteemed Amonis Academy. We can handle ourselves.”

“…True. You were prestigious once.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

“Apologies. Well, if the clients wish to come, I won’t object.”

Maitre ripped up the termination papers and grinned.

“Haha! Good. Relax. By the time we’re done, you’ll have your King Wyvern oil!”

Brestle’s ears perked up in excitement, only to droop again under Amon’s glare.

‘This all started because of that oil…’

With their participation set, Amon saw a glimmer of hope.

On the way, numerous monsters and Wyverns would appear.

‘I’ll make up for the losses by capturing them.’

Resolute, Amon nodded, prompting Maitre to laugh heartily.

“Still worried? Let me assure you!”

Mate raised a thumb.

“Our Silver Sword Mercenaries are among the Empire’s best! Relax!”

The next morning, at dawn the Silver Sword Mercenaries, who set out to capture the King Wyvern, screamed in terror.

“Aaaaah! Help!”

“The King Wyvern is too strong!”

Amon nodded.

‘I knew this would happen.’


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.