"I will not allow this farce to go on any further! The city has already been reshaped beyond recognition. Any more construction and you'll encroach on the noble district!" A red-faced, portly elder wearing several enchanted rings shouted, banging his fist on Jean’s oak desk hard enough to rattle the room. "The Tower Master might have sold his soul to the devil in exchange for a bit more power, but I'm not nearly as corrupt! You will contain your "Academy" to the designated area and that's the end of it!"

There was a time when Jean would have allowed herself to be intimidated. The chains that used to bind her might not have been physical, but they were heavy nonetheless.

Fear of disappointing her father figure had been enough to get her to bow and scrape before any minor noble that raised their voice.

Luckily, that time had passed, and she now had full discretionary power over how to handle herself.

"You will find, Mr. Winder, that this matter has already been deliberated upon. The construction of a new wing of the Academy for the experimental division was approved by the last Council meeting and has been since signed by the acting governor, General Doomspear. I will certainly keep in mind your opposition, but you should know that the time to challenge the decision has passed." Yes, she wasn't the scaredy cat that hid from confrontation in Mellassoria's Tower, but that didn't mean she should abuse her authority just because a retired mage thought he could intimidate her.

The world was full of elderly mages who thought they knew better than the new generations and stifled growth. This wasn't a new problem.

Unfortunately, her polite answer didn't seem to do much of anything to calm Winder. Indeed, if possible, he reached an even deeper shade of puce. "You do not understand. As residents of the noble districts, we have ancient rights that cannot be infringed upon just because your little Council decides to! There are procedures! The Tower has granted me and many others who have chosen me to represent them the deeds for the closest manses! Even Count Luster-Treon knew better than to challenge us on this!"

I may not be able to keep playing the calm and collected genius much longer. I'm curious what he'll do once he realizes that all the defensive enchantments on his rings are useless here. Oh, he might reach an entirely new coloration. I will have to award him a prize for that.

Jean's polite smile became strained, but she somehow managed to refrain from punting the bastard out of the window. She had taken on the responsibility of administering the Academy out of her own will. It wouldn't do to get the fame of a tyrant before it was even built in its entirety.

She took a steadying breath, fighting to keep her expression calm though her fingers twitched ever so slightly under the table. She had faced a lot worse than an overbearing old mage, but Winder's arrogance was beginning to test the limits of her patience. It pushed wounds that had yet to scar fully.

"Mr. Winder," she said firmly, "you should be aware that the Revolutionary government has dissolved any and all agreements based on social class. What you call the 'noble district' is no longer under the control of any private parties. It is now fully under the purview of the acting governor. Any previous agreements you had are, at this point, null and void."

Winder's fist slammed against the desk once more, the loud crack reverberating in the room as he shot to his feet, towering over Jean while his face twisted in fury. "You foolish child!" he boomed, "You should have never been allowed to become Director of this Academy! Your ignorance of proper authority is an embarrassment to any decent mage!"

Jean didn't even need to respond. The two guards stationed at the door reacted swiftly. Sliding their swords from their sheaths with a menacing hiss as they advanced, their expressions stony. It seemed they had no intention of letting anyone speak to their Director in such a manner.

But before they could intervene, Demetria stepped forward and grabbed the man's attention. Her eyes gleamed with cold disregard, and her voice was frigid. "I would suggest, Mr. Winder, that you reconsider your actions," she said, her tone so calm it was unnerving. "You've just put yourself in direct opposition to a Council member. The Revolution is not kind to those who would abuse their status."

Winder's eyes blazed with anger, and for a moment, Jean could see the struggle in his gaze. It was the look of a man caught between his pride and his rational understanding of his precarious situation. Unfortunately, his anger won out. Too incensed to reason, Winder raised his hand, preparing to cast a punitive spell on the arrogant servant who’d dare gainsay him. His lips began to form the words of an incantation.

Jean acted before he could even finish. With a flick of her fingers, she disrupted his casting, severing his mana flow with a precision that left him stunned. The energy he had accumulated dissipated harmlessly, like steam evaporating into the air.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Winder blinked in confusion, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "What—"

"You were about to make a grave mistake," Jean said quietly, her gaze cool and unwavering. "I would advise against trying that again."

But Winder was far too angry to heed her warning. "You spoiled, idiotic bitch!" he spat, his voice hoarse with rage. He lifted his hand and channeled mana to his rings, a string of activation words tumbling from his lips in quick succession. He obviously expected the enchanted jewelry to flare to life, to back him with the power he thought was rightfully his.

Nothing happened.

The silence that followed was deafening. Winder's eyes widened as he stared down at his rings, his confusion turning to fear when he realized that they had been rendered completely inert.

Jean remained seated, her fingers still resting calmly on the table. "Your rings won't work here, Mr. Winder," she said, her voice barely above a whisper but with an authority that sent a shiver through the room. “They are little more than children’s toys."

Before Winder could recover, the two guards closed in. They grabbed him by the arms roughly. A thud followed as a guard brought his sword's hilt down. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Demetria gave a slight nod of approval, her frosty gaze lingering on the crumpled form of the man before she turned to Jean. "Shall we have him sent to the dungeons?"

Jean exhaled slowly, her calm returning. "Yes, please. And send a message to the general. Let him know that one of the former nobles needs a lesson in humility."

As the guards dragged Winder's limp body from the room, Jean allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes and center herself. She had handled it as well as expected, but there was no denying the sting of frustration still bubbling beneath the surface.

Ever observant of her moods, Demetria placed a hand on Jean's shoulder. "You did well," she said softly. "Don't let him get to you."

Jean gave a small smile, though her eyes remained focused on the space where Winder had stood. "I'm not worried about him. He lost the fight the second he stepped into my territory," she said. “But people like him are everywhere. They never learn."

Demetria's grip tightened slightly. "And you will keep proving them wrong."

Jean sighed. There wasn't much else she could do, and as much as she would have liked to show off for once and teach men like that a lesson, she knew the real world didn't work like that. The hidden nobles would just use it to paint her as unhinged and immature.

"I will."

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While most of Jean's day was usually filled with work related to the budding Academy, whether that was helping the new teachers manage the workload and follow their plans or handling the issues that came with demolishing a good chunk of Treon's noble district to expand the auxiliary facilities, it didn't mean that was all she did.

After talking with Amelia, she decided to trust her subordinates more. She was always available if needed, but for the past few days, she had stopped checking over their shoulders. Most were Expert mages, after all. They should know how to teach Apprentices, and any trouble they might have could be handled the following morning.

This all meant that she suddenly had more free time.

Jean was initially very glad and took some time to enjoy her freedom by taking walks around the commercial district and eating out at these new restaurants and cafes that had been popping up lately—apparently on a suggestion from Leonard, who missed the culinary variety of his old world.

It only took two days of playing tourist before she got bored.

The second thing she did to entertain herself was intensify the lessons with Lamberta and Margaret. They usually convened during the weekends, when her days were less full, but the girls hadn't minded adding a few more slots.

Technically, Jean wasn't supposed to accelerate the lessons. Pure casting was a national asset, and the fact that they were sharing it with a foreign country was supposed to be both a secret and leverage.

It was a secret because no one wanted the spies to focus on Brander, where they'd be much more likely to find cracks. It was leverage because its teaching was contingent on the Western state fulfilling its promise of significantly increasing its trade and opening its market with the liberated Haylich.

As far as Jean knew, those two last points were not going according to plan, given the difficulty in securing the Serpent Sea trade route, but after all the fuss with the Deep One, she suspected things would pick up soon.

There is also the fact that I enjoy teasing them. Lamberta’s so spoiled, and Margaret is so sure of herself that I cannot help myself, especially because they think they are sneaky. It might be impolite, and I will always deny it, but acting clueless in front of their frustration is just so much fun.

During one of these lessons, Jean stood before the blackboard, carefully sketching an intricate diagram. Lines of chalk looped and spiraled into patterns that seemed almost alive with complexity. Her two students watched with growing bewilderment. The furrow in their brows deepened as Jean's explanation failed to clarify anything.

"So," Jean began, stepping back from the blackboard to admire her work, "the principles of pure casting are simple enough in their first form. They follow the basic tenets of mana manipulation that we all learned in our first few years of magical training. You take your mana, shape it through a deep understanding of the result you want to achieve, and use it to achieve the desired effect without letting it be tainted by the world, keeping it as close to the ideal as possible. Simple, right?"

Both girls nodded hesitantly, though Margaret's eyes were already beginning to glaze over, and Lamberta's fingers twitched nervously in her lap.

"Good," Jean continued as if she hadn't noticed. "But here's where it gets interesting. Once we move past the initial applications, we enter the realm of causality-based modeling. This is where the real beauty of pure casting comes into play. Axiomatic models form the foundation for high-level magic, allowing your mana to be untainted by the laws of nature, not just the actualization of the element."

She turned back to the board, swiftly drawing a series of symbols that intersected and overlapped in dizzying patterns. The lines blurred and twisted, forming what looked more like a geometric puzzle than a magical diagram. "Now, what you see here is the basis for how non-basic pure casting works. This model represents the interplay between mana and the ambient energies of the world. I call it axiomatic because it adheres to a set of fundamental principles that—"

A groan of confusion interrupted her explanation, and Jean glanced over her shoulder to see both girls staring at the board with wide, confused eyes. Margaret was leaning forward, her lips parted in bewilderment, while Lamberta looked like she was trying to decipher an ancient language.

Already at the breaking point? Oh, this is an excellent chance to have fun. Light forgive me, but these two are too easy to tease.