How to Survive at the Academy
Chapter 250

TL: TangSanFan

ED/PR: Tanthus

Epilogue (3)

Lucy Mayrill is a hero of the empire.

Having been celebrated for her many contributions by the Clorel imperial family, adorned with various commendations, gold, silver, and treasures, and bestowed with a plethora of honorary positions, the emperor of Clorel had nonetheless bestowed upon her neither a title of nobility nor a fief. Even Yenika, whose strength paled in comparison, received the title of baroness.

As befitting a wise and virtuous ruler, the emperor astutely perceived that bestowing a title such as a nobility upon Lucy Mayrill would serve only as a fetter. After all, it would amount to no more than casting aside a fief, given that she was not fit to bear the responsibilities that came with a title.

Thus, without a change in social status, Lucy exited the Sylvania Academy and sought refuge in the Rothtaylor estate. She judged that she no longer had any business to attend to in Arken Island.

Having used up several years’ worth of magical power in the final battle, Lucy Mayrill had effectively become no more than an ordinary girl. At least for a few years, she would need an official power to protect her.

Perhaps as a form of payment, or maybe because she had little interest in wealth, she handed over all the immense wealth and honor bestowed by the royal family to the Rothtaylor duchy. After that, Lucy had merely sequestered herself in a room in the estate, passing her days quietly restoring her magic.

The day when Lucy regains her magic, the Rothtaylor domain, protected by the formidable duo of Yenika and Lucy, would veritably become an impregnable sanctuary.

Renowned among the citizens of the fief, the speed at which Lucy’s magic recovered exceeded expectations.

However, what Lucy Mayrill hadn’t anticipated was ending up as a target for Ed Belle Mayar, who was seeking a talent capable of controlling her and subsequently recruiting him.

– “Miss Lucy, you should lift your teacup with more grace in your arm movements.”

– “Miss Lucy, you mustn’t spill crumbs.”

– “Miss Lucy, apologies, but your dress hem is touching the garden floor.”

– “Miss Lucy…”

– “Miss Lucy.”

Miss Lucy, Miss Lucy, Miss Lucy, Miss Lucy, Miss Lucy.

All day, two maids who had graduated from Ophelius hall , as direct subordinates of Belle Mayia, followed Lucy around, assisting her tirelessly. Skilled beyond measure, they were not intimidated even when faced with Lucy herself.

Since she had lost her magic, Lucy couldn’t possibly run away.

With her face turning pale, Lucy sat at the tea table and pleaded for mercy.

“Please…save me.”

Trissiana brushed her forehead in distress, understanding what Belle Mayar meant when saying she had responsibilities to shoulder.

Before Lucy regained her strength, there was a powerful resolve to first turn her into a proper person. Indeed, a responsible person was needed for this task.

“…”

Somehow, Lucy’s continued presence in the Rothtaylor domain would mean that the place had somehow grown on her.

Within a few years, the genius magician would return, and various organizations and magic towers would be watching her with keen interest.

Nevertheless, Lucy Mayrill chose to stay in the duchal residence of Ed Rothtaylor. The reasons were clear. It was common knowledge among the estate’s inhabitants that she had an overt affection for Ed Rothtaylor.

“Lu-Lucy…”

Yenika set down her teacup and quietly observed Lucy.

Yenika’s greatest concern was indeed the presence of Lucy Mayrill.

Ed Rothtaylor cherished Yenika, but he also did the same for Lucy. Whenever he returned to the duchy, he made sure to check on Lucy’s condition, ensuring her comfort and welfare.

Enjoying Ed’s attentions, Lucy wasn’t averse to occasionally snuggling into his embrace or sitting on his knee… displaying her affection for Ed, yet no one could stop her.

Indeed, within the manor, she was a distinguished guest, granted special treatment. Even Tanya, the master of the manor, refrained from acting rashly toward Lucy.

As Trissiana witnessed this, her thoughts were as follows:

“What on earth is my thesis advisor doing, cuddling up to so many women within his own residence…?”

It was commendable that he wanted to take responsibility for those he owed, but in appearance, it seemed no different from a licentious playground.

Trissiana didn’t share this opinion but, in the eyes of some greedy nobles, such a remarkable man could become the talk of extensive speculation. Well, he brought this upon himself.

Trissiana could clearly see the future.

Yenika timidly bringing a teacup to her lips, and Lucy, ever so cautiously aware of Yenika’s gaze despite her vacant expression.

Whether these two or any woman that set foot in the manor, none seemed willing to give up on Ed Rothtaylor easily.

Be it Clarice the Saint, the representative of the trading guild Lortelle, or even the imperial princess Sella, none of them seemed intent on relinquishing Ed Rothtaylor.

Since all of them were figures of renown within the empire, compromise would not come easily. Many desired him, but Ed Rothtaylor’s physical presence was singular. Thus, the inevitable future becomes clear.

“It’s a thorny path you tread…”

As I said, to harbor someone, one must possess a large vessel.

Trissiana could only hope that her advisor might possess a heart as vast as the sea, given the overwhelming nature of the burdens he ought to carry.

Despite it all, he did not cease striving to survive.

He arrived in the northern forest, set down his wooden backpack, and sat for a while.

Eventually spurred by the thought that he had to do something, he gathered large leaves and stems to construct a modest wooden shelter.

It was within this small and shabby wooden shelter that the story began.

A modest campfire was set up in front of it. The boy approached and took a seat on a log near the fire.

He made a workbench, drying rack, fishing rod, wooden spear, and other items, lining them up beside him.

Gradually, the makeshift appearance of the wooden shelter seemed a bit more credible. Occasionally, a girl would come by with something to eat, chatter away, and leave, or another girl would take a nap inside the shelter and depart, or a junior practicing exercises would pass by, or a merchant with interesting proposals would visit.

Before long, a small wooden storage was erected, and a decent cabin was built.

The tools the boy had been making while sitting on the log were increasingly taking on better shapes.

The campfire grew larger, now able to comfortably accommodate around ten people.

The sun rises and sets.

Rain falls, and snowflakes dance. As years change, the cabin camp continues to expand.

Before he knows it, he finds himself among the tidy buildings that couldn’t be compared to the past.

He watches the firewood burn quietly and eventually tosses in a cigarette butt.

He has survived.

And for those who survive, an inevitable question follows.

That question is about how to live on.

The past continues into the present and will eventually become the future.

I no longer have any knowledge of [Sylvania’s Failed Swordsman].

Having raced to the finish, I’ve reached the end of the story.

But there is no such thing as an ending in the tales of the world. Unless death concludes it, the story must go on.

“…”

To state the conclusion… the ‘cliff point’ that Sylvania predicted, where everything would end, has not come.

Two years have passed since Bellbrook’s death, and even though the game’s scenario has completely concluded, the world still moves on.

Every scenario has an ending.

Perhaps the ‘cliff point’ observed by her was the end of all scenarios, where the world would just close off into an eternal darkness.

Then, as long as I am here in this world, existing as a variable looking ahead… would that dark future not come? Is the world moving in a new direction because of my existence?

Or, perhaps the fact is, the end is just delayed, and the world is still heading towards perpetual darkness.

There is no way to confirm this because the future is unknown.

I had taken it for granted that I knew the future facts, and based on that information, I’ve dealt with crises… an exceptional case indeed.

Originally, the future is a mystery.

That’s why we live.

Because we truly can’t know what the future holds, we just go on living.

“You’re here.”

Suddenly, a voice called out to me from behind.

As I turned my head quickly, I saw a familiar face, Taely McLore.

I was rather surprised that this boy had come to find me here.

After all, we had never really reconciled after everything that had happened.

He sat opposite me at the campfire, set his sheathed sword down, and quietly bowed his head.

“Thank you for everything.”

It was an unexpected expression of gratitude. He had not even been this formally grateful when I graduated.

“… It’s almost time for your own graduation, isn’t it?”

“… Yes. Well, since you, senior Ed, became a professor right after your graduation, we still saw each team other regularly. But now it seems like we won’t have much chance to meet after we graduate.”

While Taely said this, he kept his head bowed.

“Don’t bother with formal goodbyes now. We’ve already seen the end of our acquaintance.”

“That may be true… but when I reflect on my school life, in the end, at every crucial moment, it was always you, senior Ed… no, Professor Ed, who contributed.”

I didn’t want to awaken him to that fact. I had hoped that Taely McLore would walk the path of the predetermined hero. After all, from Taely’s point of view, it was bound to be a misunderstanding.

Thanks to this, Taely became stronger step by step, and as I wished, he became the main character who defeated Bellbrook. Frankly, that was all I could ask for from my perspective.

I have done all that needed to be done, so I don’t harbor any more feelings toward Taely.

“I’m sorry I didn’t thank you when it was necessary. There were misunderstandings, and many days filled with ill feelings… but in the end, you… Professor Ed, you were right.”

“There’s no need to sugarcoat it. After all, I’m sure you’ve had your struggles.”

I did not intend to blame Taely. At times, I was the one who made things more difficult for him.

You have done well enough, and you endured to the end of the play and completed what needed to be done.

There’s nothing else I need to say.

“I just really wanted to offer this gratitude before graduation.”

As I looked at Taely, who spoke such words, I eventually nodded silently without much to say.

“… Yeah.”

There was nothing more to exchange at that point.

Taely picked up his sword again.

He had become a swordsman whose name would remain in history. After graduating from the Sylvania Academy, he would live his life adventuring and traveling with Aila.

He would accumulate many achievements and live as a shining hero.

Taely passed by my side.

To walk the path stretched out beyond the forest.

At one point, when I was taking care of my injured body, sitting in the room staring blankly at the computer screen.

Even in the midst of the adventures and travels on the screen, Taely had never succumbed to trial.

On the stage, he lived the life of a hero, bathed in all the spotlight.

Although it was a story beyond the screen, to me, who was frustrated with life and unable to adapt to peace, cooped up in my room… it was a salvation of sorts.

Even if it was a manufactured story, and even if it didn’t apply to the extras underneath the stage… just by watching aimlessly, I sometimes felt saved.

The stories of those who overcame trials have the power to save someone in their own right.

“Hey, Taely.”

I called to Taely, who was about to leave, and he turned back to me with a puzzled expression.

As I flicked a stick stirring the fire into the flames, I casually said,

“Take care.”

That was all.

Taely looked at me quietly, then, with a word of thanks, set off on his way.

Paths diverge and converge, but they always continue.

As long as life permits, it goes on.

* * *

Sylvania Academy’s intake for new students has not decreased.

Despite a great calamity leaving its mark, the academy has continued to produce many heroes, and its reputation grows day by day.

Taely McLore, the dragonslayer. Aila Triss, who inherited the name of the great sage.

Zix Eppelinstein, the hero of the northern grasslands. Clevius Nortondale, who mastered the Blood Sword Technique.

Elvira Eniston, the innovator of alchemy. The future empress of the Clorel Empire, Phoenia Elia Clorel.

And even the future chairman of Elte Commercial, Lortelle Keheln.

The protagonists graduate with shining lights upon them and are praised at the graduation ceremony, continuing their lives as heroes who will leave their names long in the history of the empire.

Sylvania Academy, which had been their cradle, still stands tall on Arken Island, producing new heroes and nurturing talents for the next era.

And so, many freshmen continue to flock, aspiring to be part of the academy.

“Wow…”

A boy holding onto a large magic staff gazed at the group of new candidates gathering at the entrance of the northern forest.

They were all children of well-known families. Even a country boy like him could tell at a glance the array of noble offspring and famous people gathered.

Amidst the crowd, drawn together by the desire to join Sylvania Academy, the boy’s childhood friend patted his back reassuringly.

“Don’t be disheartened, Pelim!”

“E-Elia…! Who says I’m disheartened!”

“You’re trembling with fear at first glance! In a place like this, you have to be even more confident! Look at you, not showing your rustic roots! You won’t lose to anyone with your hard work!”

The girl, while still shivering, injected courage into the boy as she also came to attend Sylvania Academy.

Clutching the large staff, she patted the boy’s back with reassurance, and eventually, the boy gathered himself and found the courage.

“Yeah… I won’t lose with my efforts…!”

As the boy appeared to firm up his resolve, a tall man emerged from the crowd of students, stirring up a commotion. Everyone gathered there knew the face of this man.

– ‘It’s, it’s Ed Rothtaylor…!’

– ‘For real…! He came in person…!’

– ‘Shh… He’ll hear…! You’ve never seen someone famous before?! Well, he’s the professor in charge of selecting new students, so of course he’d come personally!’

Although they didn’t seem much different in age, the title of professor and the appearance of the man, just with his cloak, exuded an intimidating presence.

The associate professor, Trissiana, who followed and took notes, also had an aura of suppression solely with her presence.

Eventually, the man came forward out of the crowd. When the associate professor called for silence, the entire place fell completely quiet.

Standing with his back to the northern forest, after briefly surveying everyone, the man spoke.

“It was a long journey for all of you. I’m sure everyone has their reasons for desperately wanting to join Sylvania, but unfortunately, only half of you present will be able to enroll.”

Ed Rothtaylor spoke with an expressionless face, stating only the facts.

Hearing the professor’s voice for the first time in person, a unique excitement passed among the students. They realized the fact that they had really come to Sylvania Academy.

When Ed Rothtaylor gave a signal to the associate professor, Trissiana heightened her magical power.

Soon, various illusion disks activated within the northern forest, scattering all kinds of minor demonkin illusions and rampaging minor elemental forms throughout. While the illusions themselves wouldn’t cause physical harm, being attacked would result in mental anguish and after-effects.

Strange cries from the demonkin reverberated through the forest and the roaring rampaged elementals reached the front of the crowd.

The new student candidates, though stemming from illustrious backgrounds, were novices with no practical experience. They began to tense up as they swallowed dryly in unison.

“From here, you must cross the forest and reach the north cliff on the other side. The evaluation itself is not overly complex. There’s no need to be discerning in methods and means.”

Ed Rothtaylor spoke, his eyes narrowly closed.

“Survive.”

That single, concise, and definitive criterion was all that Ed Rothtaylor demanded of the entrants.

It was the most important thing of all.

To survive at the academy.

– The End –

Afterword

Hello, this is Korita.

I remember the cold winter of 2020 when I first posted the beginning of this series, and I find myself suddenly in the summer of ’22, two years later. Time flies so fast.

During the 19 months of writing ‘Surviving at the Academy,’ both personally and in terms of the work, a lot has happened.

This has been my first time writing a novel of this length.

At 250 episodes, with an average of 10,000 characters per episode, it’s equivalent to writing around 400 episodes… Now that the work is done, I’m left with nothing but respect for established authors who have completed such tasks multiple times.

How arduous must the repeated endeavors of these established writers have been?

Completing my first long-form story, I couldn’t even imagine such a thing.

I’ve often imagined myself finishing a work and writing an afterword.

Now that I’m actually sitting down to write it, I’m not sure what to say.

I should start with a message of thanks to the readers. I’m able to keep writing because there are people reading my work.

While I could elaborate such a thank-you with fancy words, the more I talk about such a given, the less genuine it seems.

So, I won’t go into detail. But it’s as obvious and clear a fact as it’s unnecessary to explain.

Thank you very much to everyone who read this novel.

I’ve never forgotten that I can write because there are readers.

If you have read [Surviving at the Academy], you know that the story is not yet over.

The tales of the highest wind spirit of Phulanshan, old fox Slog of Alldeck, the secrets of Zellan and Glogt, remain unresolved.

And our protagonist, Ed Rothtaylor, though he has confirmed the story’s conclusion, is still living as a stranger to this world.

The story of Ed Rothtaylor facing fate and fully settling into the world still needs to be told.

The side story… I think I’ll write it in a freeform manner. Like during the time of free serialization. That was probably the time I could focus most on the writing.

When rushed by time, I’m left with regrets and later realizations that make me slap my forehead.

Still, I aim to publish at least one part every three days, like I used to.

However, instead of a promise to readers, I’ll consider it a personal commitment for now.

After a week’s rest, I’ll be back on June 13th, Monday, with Yenika’s Faelover side story: Wind Flower.

Though there have been many words and various issues, thank you for staying with the story to the end.

I love you.

June 4, 2022.

Korita.