I Made Up Forbidden Spells, and They Actually Worked?

"Eating and drinking is fine; the refreshments are here precisely for that purpose. But are you children?" Mordo Chakol said coldly. "With all this noise, anyone passing by would think a group of bandits had broken in! With that kind of behavior, how do you expect to teach students?"

At his reprimand, several mentors couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment.

These were the very words they usually used to scold their own students.

They hadn't expected the tables to turn on them today!

Of course, it was clear Mordo Chakol was just establishing his authority early on, ensuring that none of the mentors coming here to learn would be difficult to manage.

Sweeping his gaze over the room, Mordo continued, "But that's beside the point. You've come to a new place and sat wherever you pleased without the owner's permission? Get up immediately!"

Hearing this, a few mentors hastily moved away from the seats and made their way toward the center of the hall.

But Dean Bruce remained reclining in his chair, drawing the curious gazes of the other mentors. As Mordo Chakol walked closer, several of them smirked to themselves, anticipating that Dean Bruce would finally be put in his place.

After all, they'd been watching him with envy—the special treatment, the beautiful companion at his side. They had been waiting for him to slip up.

Sensing Dean Bruce's unruffled demeanor, Alita Miller continued to stand behind him, calmly massaging his temples.

When Mordo Chakol reached Dean Bruce, the other mentors held their breath, expecting a harsh reprimand. But to their surprise, Mordo simply chuckled and, in a teasing tone, said, "Well, well! You certainly know how to enjoy yourself. I don't even get this kind of service!"

"Keep resting; there's nothing here for you to worry about."

The entire hall fell silent. The mentors' eyes widened, disbelief plain on their faces.

They couldn't fathom how Dean Bruce, who had come from a small city like them, had managed to secure such privileges.

Who exactly was Dean Bruce?

In an instant, the minds of all the mentors, both men and women, were made up—they would definitely try to align themselves with Dean Bruce.

Dean Bruce closed his eyes again, but sleep evaded him. His thoughts ran wild.

Had they truly found information about his parents?

Where could they be?

Were they harmed by the Nine Provinces Alliance?

Were there other organizations involved?

…

Dean Bruce's thoughts were still racing when Mordo Chakol eventually came over and gently woke him. But this wasn't the time to dwell on his questions.

"Come on, I'll take you to collect your supplies. By the way, do you want to stay in the academy dormitories?" Mordo Chakol asked quietly. "The academy operates on a points system. Even mentors need points for everything here. Of course, as a senior mentor, you'll receive a monthly allowance of 1,000 points."

Hearing this, Dean Bruce promptly declined, "No need to arrange a dorm for me. I already have a place to stay in the city."

"Alright," Mordo Chakol replied matter-of-factly. "Most of the rules are meant for students. As a mentor, all you really need to keep track of is your points. If you have questions, feel free to ask me."

The so-called "supplies" turned out to be a single set of magical robes and an emblem badge that served as proof of identity.

The robes weren't mandatory outside of group events, but the badge was essential—it stored points!

Without points, you couldn't even buy a meal in the academy, let alone access places like the library or training rooms.

After donning the magical robes and pinning on the emblem badge, Dean Bruce noticed Mordo Chakol looking at him with a smile. "Since you're Lord Cyb's recommendation, I won't assign you any set tasks. Which grade level would you like to teach?"

"First-year students," Dean Bruce replied without hesitation. It wasn't just to look out for Lucy; it was also strategic. Upperclassmen had already experienced teaching from other mentors and often lost some of their initial respect for mentors.

If Dean Bruce intended to influence a new generation of students in the ways of magic, he'd have the best chance by working with those still in awe of their mentors.

New students would be much more likely to believe whatever he told them.

"First-years?"

Mordo Chakol nodded. "Perfect timing. The freshman induction ceremony is about to begin, and soon, you'll select your students. I'll have someone take you there. With your status, you can choose any students you like, along with two mentor assistants."

"Remember, when selecting students, you can't pull entirely from just one 'Talent Pool.' You'll need to pick a balance from each pool, and the cap is around fifty students."

With that, Mordo signaled to a nearby staff member to escort Dean Bruce to the freshman ceremony site.

Dean Bruce raised an eyebrow, wondering what it meant not to choose exclusively from one "Talent Pool."

The Advanced Magic Academy was significantly larger than the junior academy. After passing through a small spatial teleportation array, Dean Bruce and Alita Miller were led to a building constructed entirely from wood.

Inside, over a thousand students sat cross-legged on the floor, divided into several square formations, all looking up attentively as a teacher spoke from the front of the room.

Several mentors who had come to observe were also present, standing on either side of the stage without stepping up.

On the stage itself sat over forty mentors, neatly arranged in a row. Most of them were quietly evaluating the students below, clearly beginning to select their future protégés, while one mentor continued speaking to the gathered students.

As Dean Bruce walked past the groups of students arranged in squares, he noticed something peculiar.

The group furthest to the left had far fewer students—only about fifty.

Luckily, he spotted Lucy Michelle among them.

[Talent Pools… I get it. It's like a prize pool in a game, where students with similar talents are grouped together. They don't want us taking too many from one pool, so other mentors don't end up with only students lacking natural ability.]

[Come to think of it, my own system's lottery should be ready soon. I wonder what rewards I'll get with the next level up?]

[Previously, I could draw items capable of instantly defeating anyone below the Saint level. One more upgrade, and I might be able to harm even Saint-level beings!]

Lost in thought, Dean Bruce continued walking without slowing down. With Alita Miller beside him, he followed the staff member's lead and stepped onto the stage.

The mentor speaking paused momentarily, surprised by the unexpected arrival of yet another mentor.

But a quick glance at the glowing red emblem on Dean Bruce's chest told him all he needed to know. High-status individuals always had their privileges, after all.

However, some of the regular mentors, who didn't catch the significance of his emblem, looked visibly displeased, frowning at Dean Bruce.

Unaware of the full situation, they assumed he was there to replace them, and their attitude toward him wasn't exactly welcoming.

If they hadn't been in such a public setting, they might have openly protested.

Unbothered, Dean Bruce found a seat at the edge of the stage, waiting for the ceremony to finish before making his selections.

He had taught students back in Notting City, but at the time, he hadn't fully understood the system, nor had he found the right approach to help them grasp magic.

This time, he intended to try again.

After all, teaching students at the academy would be much quicker than slowly training disciples one-on-one.

Seeing this unfold, the other mentors grew increasingly irritated, many of them whispering among themselves and questioning Dean Bruce's identity.

Meanwhile, a staff member quickly approached the mentor who was speaking, quietly explained the situation, then respectfully took his leave.

The mentor maintained his composure, unfazed by the murmurs around him, and continued with his speech. When he finished, he addressed the crowd, saying, "Everyone, please quiet down. Next, the mentors will begin selecting students for their classes."

At his words, the students collectively tensed with anticipation.

In their eyes, a mentor was sometimes even more valuable than resources.

Turning to Dean Bruce, the mentor smiled warmly and said, "Since it's Mentor Dean's first time teaching freshmen, why don't you go first in selecting students?"

Dean Bruce raised an eyebrow, studying the mentor. Seeing the welcoming smile, he nodded in agreement.

After all, you don't turn down a friendly gesture.

"Wait a minute!"

Before Dean Bruce could stand, a lanky, almost skeletal mentor sprang up and protested, frowning. "Sinna, wasn't it decided that I'd have first pick this year? Why change it at the last minute?"

Hearing this, Mentor Sinna's eye twitched in irritation, silently cursing the man.

This guy has no sense whatsoever. If someone's been placed here by the higher-ups, doesn't that mean they've got connections? And you're still daring to compete with him?

And worse, he'd gone and voiced it in front of everyone!

Though fuming internally, Sinna kept his tone calm. "Brad, don't talk nonsense. When did I ever say you'd be picking first this year? The selection order is always random."

"You—" Brad's eyes narrowed as he suddenly looked toward Dean Bruce, his tone dismissive. "You seem unfamiliar. A newly appointed mentor—what makes you qualified to pick first?"

"In terms of experience and skill, I'm far more deserving than you are!"

As Brad's tone grew increasingly testy, the mentors and even the students began to watch the exchange with keen interest, sizing up both Dean Bruce and Brad.

Dean Bruce, however, wasn't one to back down. Glancing at Brad and noting the orange badge on his chest, he smirked and said in a calm voice, "With all that experience and strength, why aren't you a senior mentor yet?"

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