I Became the Academy’s Weakest Strategist

A bright, cloudless day.
Due to its geographical location, Montegro Academy seldom saw rain and was generally quite arid, allowing one to enjoy such weather daily.
Memories vividly resurfaced of my naive early twenties when I loved soccer, traveling to England to watch matches.
Back then, oblivious to England’s famously fickle weather, I foolishly neglected bringing an umbrella and ended up drenched while watching the game.
Recalling those days made me appreciate how blessed Montegro Academy’s surroundings were.
The predominately dry, sunny conditions proved excellent for grape cultivation.
Thanks to this, Montegro Academy could procure wine – a luxury only the wealthy could normally afford elsewhere – at very reasonable prices.

“Care to sample our newest vintage?”
“Fresh grapes here, get your fresh grapes!”
“Try our wine tasting!”

Wine vendors freely hawked their wares along the streets.

“What an utter mess. How did this day become such a fiasco?”
From the revelation that the mysterious lady was actually the imperial princess, to the misunderstanding witnessed by senior Rose – each recollection felt like a sledgehammer to the head.
Though the refreshing breeze helped clear my mind somewhat, dark clouds still loomed ominously over my future prospects.

“At least it ended there.”
Fortunately, the princess immediately chased after senior Rose, allowing me to slip out of the café unnoticed.
Of course, I didn’t pay for the coffee or snacks.
Rumor had it the princess was a regular patron, so she could settle the bill herself.
Had I attempted to go Dutch, I’d have spent the rest of the day scrubbing dishes after classes.

Crunch.
Retrieving the last cookie fragment I had pocketed from the café, I slowly made my way towards the classroom buildings.
The path wound through a lush garden bursting with vivid blooms, its scenery etching itself into my eyes.
This was Montegro Academy, a labor of love by the founding emperor to nurture the empire’s future pillars.
His meticulous efforts to cultivate talent shone through every detail.
Not just humans, but elves, dwarves and myriad other races studied here to become the empire’s backbone.
Ironically, even as the empire crumbled, countless aspiring youths still diligently strove for its sake.
The winds of a new era beckoned, offering hope to rise by merit rather than birthright – fueling their drive.

As I strolled onwards, an abnormally large witch’s hat poked into view from beyond the garden hedges.
Shifting left, it followed.
Rustle.
Shifting right, it mirrored the movement.
Rustle rustle!
Only one person I knew would engage in such antics.

“Louis, just come out already.”
“…H-How did you know?”
Louis’s face peeked over the hedge, his startled expression reminiscent of a spooked cat as he stared at me wide-eyed.
“Your hat’s sticking right up.”
“Oh…”

Finally realizing how I had spotted him, Louis dejectedly emerged in full view, leaves and twigs clinging to his robes.
He had clearly been tailing me all this way.
Likely after witnessing my unsettled demeanor when the princess led me away earlier.
My apologies, Louis.
I had wrongly suspected you of being an ill-intentioned ‘dark creature’.

I never imagined such steadfast loyalty.

“I’m fine, let’s just head to class together.”
“Understood!”
Scampering over, Louis stuck close by my side.
Due to his diminutive stature, I slowed my pace to match his shorter stride.
A vivid sunny day, flowers in full bloom lining our path.
Students ambled by in small clusters on their way to lessons, while professors diligently prepared for their upcoming classes.

“Wasn’t our next class ‘Understanding Magic’?”
“Indeed, I shall lend you my wand once we return to the classroom!”
“A wand, huh…”

Louis’s intentions were admirable, but even the finest wand would prove useless for my utter lack of magical aptitude.
For an imperial citizen to be incapable of even the simplest spells essentially rendered one worthless.
The empire prided itself as a nation of blades and magic, after all.

Ancient legends told of how the founding emperor’s mastery had transcended mortal limits, allowing him and his companions to vanquish the evil mara tribes and establish this land.
Hence, the imperial citizenry revered the sword and sorcery.
Even street urchins fashioned crude wooden wands and swords to play at being heroes.
With no talents in either discipline, I remained painfully alienated from society.

“Of all the professors…”
“The dread…’Grubworm’ Professor…at this hour…?”
Worse still, the ‘Understanding Magic’ course was taught by a notoriously strict and cantankerous instructor.
Famed for his vicious temperament, he would openly denounce any magically inept imperials as ‘non-citizens’ during lessons.
Yet he fawned over the powerful and influential – hence Louis’s unflattering ‘Grubworm’ moniker, likening his obsequious posturing before authority figures to a groveling grub.

“Are you alright…?”
Concerned, Louis clutched at my sleeve, his upturned gaze a mix of worry and apology.

“Best not to draw any attention.”
No point fretting over it.
An old codger’s ranting amounted to nothing if one simply let it flow by unheeded.
As a veteran grad student, I had been forced to develop a thick skin against far worse insults and indignities.
I was invincible, having severed all family ties!
Cheap taunts held no power over me anymore.

“If that grubworm dares spew nonsense at Lord Rommel, I shall fire a fireball square at his rear!”
“I appreciate the thought, but…”

As reassuring as the offer was, I knew of no historical precedent where a student had actually assaulted a professor that way.
It would likely escalate beyond a mere expulsion, requiring my family’s entire house to intervene with formal apologies and reparations.

“Oh dear…”
“Ah…thank you…!”
Louis’s oversized witch hat, too big for him, suddenly lifted up in a gust of wind.
Quickly reaching out, I firmly grasped it with both hands before it could fly away.
Though I still couldn’t fathom his stubborn insistence on that ill-fitting hat, Louis surely had his reasons for clinging to it so tenaciously.

“Let’s hurry inside before that professor starts raving again.”
“…Understood.”
For some reason, Louis hunched over, pulling the hat low to obscure his face as we hastened towards the classroom.
Had there been more time, I would have outright removed that ridiculous hat, but the imminent lesson demanded urgency.

“Magic, as the ancients have taught us, is the study of interpreting the world itself…”

A dense, tedious lecture.
While students passionate about magic hung eagerly on every word, my mind simply could not maintain any semblance of interest.
At first, the mystic arts had seemed wondrous and enthralling.
But upon recognizing my utter lack of magical aptitude, that fascination swiftly withered.
What use was studying abilities I could never wield?
If scholarly knowledge alone could elevate one to mastery, I would have applied myself diligently.
Unfortunately, magic demanded tangible, reproducible results – not mere theories.
Hosting public demonstrations, providing empirical proof – this formed the core criteria by which magical academics were evaluated.
Hence, my lack of any practical talents ensured any brilliant hypotheses I might propose would go utterly unnoticed without substantiating achievements.

Focusing one’s efforts wisely – that was wisdom.
Boldly abandoning fruitless paths to knock on doors offering real prospects.
At least, that seemed the most rational approach to me.

Tap tap.
Having never studied the material, the professor’s words rang like utter gibberish to my ears.
Unable to comprehend a single utterance, I could only pretend to diligently take notes while avoiding eye contact.
My mind, meanwhile, wandered elsewhere entirely.

“You there, come forward.”
What now, had I been caught after all?
After enduring so stoically as a grad student, to commit such an amateur blunder would be infuriating.

Begrudgingly, I rose and made my way to the front of the class as instructed, keenly aware of my peers’ stares boring into my back.
Only the social conditioning forcibly drilled into me during grad school allowed me to maintain my composure.

“Tell me, do you have any ability to wield magic, boy?”
Was this meant as provocation?
“No, I cannot use magic.”
“…As an imperial citizen, you lack even basic magical proficiency?”
“I possess no talents in that area.”
I stated the facts plainly before the professor.
Resorting to feeble lies would only provide him an opening to counterattack.
Moreover, dishonesty held no benefits for me.
One lie inevitably breeds more to maintain the charade.

“A worthless nobody, then. To think an imperial citizen cannot cast the simplest of spells. I generously offered to instruct this failed class out of charity, yet you prove a mere waste of my time…tsk.”
For a moment, I considered striking him.
This professor’s notorious prickliness and backwards mentality were certainly on full display.
Yet his ability to unerringly sniff out money and power also held legendary repute, as exemplified by:

“Louis, at the very least you could emulate his scholarly passion! Lacking ability, you should nurture an ardent thirst for knowledge befitting a proud Montegro student!”

From the very start of term, the professor had relentlessly badgered Louis.
Ever since learning of Louis’s wealthy background, he had subtly favored Louis while disparaging those of humbler origins like myself.
Likely, teaching this remedial class served his efforts to ingratiate himself with Louis’s influential family.

“Well? Do you even qualify as a Montegro student, you good-for-nothing?”
The professor’s wrinkled, piggish features contorted into a sneer as he waddled closer.

“Tsk tsk, neither spirit nor scholarly drive, with zero ability to boot. Off with you then, back to your seat!”

“You…!”
As Louis rose to protest, I decided to interject.
Having witnessed this professor’s transparent maneuverings, I felt compelled to undermine his arrogance.
Meeting his gaze squarely, I posed a single, disarming query:

“Professor, do you know how to fit an elephant into a cooking pot?”
One of the most dreaded and perplexing riddles a grad student could face.
Adapted from the classic ‘elephant and refrigerator’ brain teaser, I lobbed this metaphorical grenade directly at the professor’s smug countenance.