Who Says I'm Not a Proper Adventurer?
Chapter 17: Violet Academy

Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Violet Academy

White River City, the capital of the Province, was nestled in the embrace of this mother river.

There were no vast golden wheat fields, nor were there herds of cattle and sheep.

The city’s entire prosperity was built upon massive commercial trade. Its core pillar was the industry revolving around Underground Cities and Magic Materials.

Because White River Province possessed the densest cluster of Underground Cities in the entire Kingdom, it had naturally become a mecca for Adventurers.

Flanking the great white river—wide enough for medium-sized merchant ships to sail abreast—stood countless towers and spires.

The most comprehensive academies in the entire Province, and even the surrounding regions, for training Professionals were gathered here.

As the last vestiges of sunset faded, the Magic Lamps lining the streets began to light up one by one, casting a soft, warm yellow glow.

The scene along the White River was a stark contrast to the rural tranquility of Gray Rock Town. The air here thrummed with a youthful, restless energy.

Young men and women in all manner of uniforms could be seen strolling along the wide, stone-paved riverbank.

Some of them clutched heavy textbooks, hurrying along, while others sat in pairs on riverside benches, whispering softly to each other.

Here, the lines between races seemed to blur.

Aside from humans, you could see Sub-human students with distinct animal features weaving through the crowds everywhere.

There were even Lizardman Swordsmen dragging thick tails, stoutly built Dwarf Blacksmith apprentices, and agile Half-Elves.

This was an inclusive city, one brimming with possibilities.

And no matter where one stood in the city, a glance upward would reveal the most magnificent landmark of all, standing tall on the banks of the White River.

That was White River City’s largest Magic Academy.

Violet Academy.

At the peak of the sky-piercing Central Mage Tower floated a massive, ring-shaped structure composed of innumerable metal rings and runes.

That was the floating library, known to countless students as the "Ring of Truth."

When night completely fell.

This massive ring, driven by an Array, would begin to slowly rotate, scattering specks of white light like stardust—as if a brilliant galaxy had descended upon the mortal realm.

Mysterious and beautiful.

Meanwhile, in a private office within the tower encircled by the ring...

An old man in a deep purple Mage Robe was sitting behind a desk piled high with parchment.

He was holding an exquisite silver letter opener, slowly prying open a wax-sealed envelope.

The envelope’s seal bore the insignia of the White River City Adventurer’s Association.

Typically, such official correspondence was handled by the dean’s office.

But the old man knew there was only one person in the world who would go to the trouble of sending him a private letter through this channel.

’That old bastard all the way out in Gray Rock Town.’

’An old codger just like him—retired from the life of a Senior Adventurer, yet unwilling to fade into obscurity.’

The old man unfolded the letter and, by the light of the Magic Lamp on his desk, read it very carefully from beginning to end.

"Heh..."

After reading the last line, the old man set the letter down and shook his head with a sigh of resignation.

’I can’t believe that old coot, who’s usually so concerned with saving face, would actually swallow his pride and beg me for something like this.’

’Gray Rock Town...’

The old man gazed out the window, his eyes looking to the southwest.

’That’s where our old party leader was born.’

’Looks like that old coot really plans on putting down roots in that backwater town. He wants to raise a new batch of decent Adventurers over there.’

"Fifteen days until the Golden Grain Month."

The old man tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, calculating inwardly.

’The students at the academy who’ve just mastered basic casting Skills are like flowers in a greenhouse. They’re in desperate need of a true trial by fire.’

’I could send this batch of students over under the guise of an "off-campus internship." It would solve that old coot’s urgent problem and also give the students some real combat experience.’

’Killing two birds with one stone.’

’Still, business is business.’

It wasn’t often he got to see the old coot so humbled. A mischievous grin spread across the old man’s wrinkled face.

He immediately spread out a fresh sheet of parchment, took up his quill, and dipped it in ink.

’This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’

He filled his reply with page after page of mockery, every line dripping with unconcealed glee at his old friend’s predicament.

He even made a point to dredge up some of the other man’s most hilarious blunders from decades ago, back when they were Adventurers in the same party.

’It was a rare chance to get the upper hand. He could make that old coot furious enough to jump up and down, yet still force him to just grit his teeth and take it.’

’Just imagining the old bastard’s face when he received the letter—fuming, beard bristling—made the old man feel immensely satisfied.’

Just as he was getting into it, a grin stretching nearly from ear to ear...

"KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK."

A sudden knock came from the office’s heavy oak door.

The old man’s expression froze instantly.

With startling speed, he wiped the smile off his face and hastily shoved the letter into a drawer.

Then, he straightened his back, his face hardening. His gaze became stern and profound, and in an instant, he had assumed the air of a strict, severe professor.

After adjusting his collar, he finally spoke in a deep and authoritative voice:

"Come in."

"Professor Gideon."

As the heavy oak door was pushed open, a soft voice drifted in.

The person who entered didn’t walk directly to the desk. Instead, they stood at the doorway and bowed respectfully to the old man behind it.

The gesture was flawless, a picture of perfect etiquette.

Gideon adjusted his glasses and got a clear look at the visitor.

It was a young girl in the bloom of her youth.

She had long hair as pure and white as fresh snow, styled into two fluffy, adorable buns on top of her head.

Two delicate, finely woven braids hung down from her temples, trailing alongside her cheeks.

The girl had a perfect oval face, her features so exquisite they looked like a masterpiece meticulously crafted by a Painter.

And the greatest difference between her and an Ordinary human was the pair of ears peeking out from between her strands of hair.

The ears were long and slender, with gently pointed tips, a clear sign of the Elven blood that flowed through her veins.

She was wearing an off-the-shoulder, pure-white dress, its neckline decorated with intricate, elaborate frills.

The outfit made her look less like a well-behaved student and more like a doll, one that had been carefully dressed for a window display.

Looking at the girl’s getup, Gideon felt a vein throb on his forehead.

He rubbed his aching temples and sighed in resignation.

"Cecilia, did your aunt dress you up again?"

Though he posed it as a question, Gideon already knew the answer.

’Here at Violet Academy, only one person was capable of something like this.’

’Cecilia’s aunt, who also happened to be a renowned combat instructor at the academy.’

’The woman was a powerful Senior Adventurer, but her fiery temper and eccentric behavior had earned her the private nickname "the Violet Psycho" from the other academies.’

’But when it came to her own niece, that madwoman would instantly transform, doting on the girl to a hopeless degree.’

’Her greatest hobby was dressing up her beautiful niece like an exquisite doll, satisfying some strange penchant she had for playing dress-up.’

Hearing the professor’s question, Cecilia lowered her head in embarrassment, her fingers lightly twisting the lace on the hem of her dress.

"My aunt said... this dress really suited today’s sunshine."

’Just as I thought.’

As Cecilia’s mentor, Gideon felt a profound sense of resignation.

’Such a promising sapling, and with so much Talent, was going to be led astray by that madwoman.’

"That’s enough. Go ahead and sit."

Gideon pointed to the chair opposite his desk.

Once the girl was seated obediently, her hands resting properly on her knees, Gideon’s expression turned serious as he asked:

"I’ve called you here today to ask: have you chosen a direction for your Profession yet?"

Hearing that it was serious business, the shyness on Cecilia’s face faded, and her expression turned serious.

At Violet Academy, once students had mastered the fundamental techniques of combat or spellcasting, they all faced a critical decision.

They had to select their future Profession’s development path and receive specialized training provided by the academy.

This was by no means a superfluous step.

Freelance Adventurers out in the world might not understand, but the academy-trained were all taught this Knowledge.

A Professional’s system of Power was not a simple matter of stacking numbers.

After officially taking a Profession, the growth rate of their physical Attributes would undergo a qualitative change.

Weak Attributes that were difficult to improve before one’s official classing would become significantly easier to raise after receiving a Profession’s modifiers.

This was why the academy required its students to meet a Profession’s prerequisites as quickly as possible in order to complete the initiation ceremony at the earliest opportunity.

Only by doing so could they leverage the Profession’s bonuses to maximize their gains on the path of future growth.

This was core Knowledge that Ordinary Adventurers could never hope to access—an educational barrier built upon a foundation of exorbitant tuition fees.