All-around teacher at the magic academy

cough cough cough

A soft cough echoed in the quiet ward. The middle-aged man lying on the bed slowly opened his eyes. His gaze passed through the window and landed on the gloomy sky, his eyes revealing unspeakable thoughts.

Beside him, a young man slept soundly by the bedside, a soft cough undisturbed by his dreams. The middle-aged man turned his neck with difficulty, his gaze falling on his son's quiet face, his eyes swirling with emotion.

He strained to look up, staring at the ceiling of the ward, trying hard to hold back his tears. This man, who had always been strong and never easily showed weakness, felt an unbearable weight in his life at that moment.

Looking back on his life, he felt he had lived a failure. After graduating from the magic academy, he embarked on the path of law enforcement with fervent passion and unwavering resolve. On that dangerous front line, he lived a life of constant danger, licking blood from the edge of a knife, day after day.

Shortly after marrying his wife, they welcomed their child, a fair-skinned and adorable son. Never having imagined becoming a father, he often held his son, his heart filled with tenderness. He always taught his son to grow into a strong and upright man, and not to tarnish his reputation.

Time flies, and their son reached school age. However, he and his wife disagreed on their son's education. His wife firmly opposed their son entering the magic academy, believing that becoming an ordinary scholar was enough and there was no need to repeat his father's dangerous mistakes.

He stubbornly insisted that a real man should embrace challenges and live an adventurous life, rather than spending his days immersed in scholarly books. After a heated debate, he ultimately prevailed and sent his son to the magic academy.

However, this victory came at a heavy price. His wife, unable to bear the daily worry and fear, chose to leave him and their son, returning to her hometown. He didn't try to stop her, knowing in his heart that he couldn't give her the peaceful life she craved. Aside from his identity as a law enforcement officer, he seemed to have nothing and no other way of life.

Not long after, news came that his wife had passed away in their distant hometown. He didn't even have the chance to say a proper goodbye to her. This regret was like a sharp knife, piercing his heart deeply.

...

Later, during a mission, he was ambushed. His teammates bravely sacrificed themselves to protect him, and although he managed to escape, he was seriously injured. Despite surviving, his body could never fully recover.

As time went on, his health deteriorated, and the lingering ailments from years of fighting flared up, eventually leaving him paralyzed and bedridden.

He never regretted his choice to become a law enforcement officer. He only hated his own incompetence, felt sorry for his deceased wife, and felt sorry for his innocent children. He knew he was not a good husband or a great father, and this self-blame and guilt weighed on his heart like a heavy stone.

Watching his son running around because of his illness, the middle-aged man felt bitter and helpless.

...

cough cough cough

"Father, you're awake?" Logan was startled awake and saw his father lying in bed, his eyes glazed over, seemingly lost in thought.

In his heart, his father had always been a strong, indomitable, and upright hero. However, in the past two years, the torment of illness had gradually weakened his father's will, and the once indestructible figure seemed to have disappeared.

"Logan, help me take off the pendant around my neck." The father's voice was weak but firm.

Logan quickly did as he was told, carefully helping his father remove the pendant.

"This was given to me by your grandfather before he passed away, and now I'm passing it on to you." The father's words were filled with endless emotion.

“Father.” Logan’s voice choked with emotion, his eyes filled with tears.

“I have no remarkable achievements in my life; in fact, I have lived a rather unsuccessful life. I owe your mother too much, and I am sorry to you, but I never regret my choices. My only regret is that I was unable to see your mother one last time.” The father’s tone revealed deep regret and helplessness.

Logan's tears welled up and slid down his cheeks. He wanted to say something to comfort his father, but the words caught in his throat. In his heart, his father had never wronged him; he would never forget those warm memories and his father's deep love.

...

Stepping out of the hospital, Logan felt a heavy weight on his heart. He was overwhelmed by a profound sense of powerlessness; his years of magical training seemed utterly insignificant in the face of his father's illness. He couldn't use his magic to restore his father's health, which made him doubt his own abilities.

At such a moment, he couldn't help but wonder what all these years of diligent study had truly meant to him. Was his path of magic really as meaningful as he thought?

...

"Please, save my father. I'm willing to pay any price to help him."

Logan knelt before the gates of Duke Chloe's mansion, his voice hoarse and desperate for help. The rain relentlessly soaked his clothes, but it did not shake his resolve. He knew he had to act, and whatever lay ahead, he was willing to pay any price to save his father's life.

...

Full of hope, Logan rushed to the hospital with the best therapist in Barton.

However, when he entered the ward and saw his father's calm yet eternally still face, the flame of hope that had just ignited in his heart was instantly and mercilessly extinguished. His father did not wait for his rescue; instead, he chose to free himself, choosing not to be a burden to him anymore.

Deeply grieving, Logan suppressed his inner pain and began to arrange his father's funeral. He carefully buried his father, placing him in the same earth as his mother, who had been waiting for him, so that they could be reunited in another world.

...

Following Professor Polan's instructions, Leon arrived at a secluded corner of the academy. His gaze fell on the tall sycamore tree not far away, confirming that he had not come to the wrong place.

He sighed inwardly, realizing that the environment where Professor Logan lived was much better than where he lived.

He took out the key he had received from Professor Logan, gently inserted it into the lock, and with a slight turn, the door opened. Leon stepped inside to find a simply furnished room, everything neatly arranged and without a trace of clutter.

He entered Professor Logan's bedroom, his eyes scanning the room carefully for any possible medium for the curse, but to his disappointment, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Everything here was perfectly normal and unremarkable.

Leaving the bedroom, Leon began a careful examination of the living room. He didn't want to miss any details, but everything in the living room seemed so ordinary. Nevertheless, deep down he felt that the medium was there, just yet to be discovered.

Leon looked around again, finally fixing his attention on the desk by the window.

He walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down, imagining the scene of Mr. Logan reading on a daily basis, from which he could see the sycamore tree in front of the door.

Outside the window, the branches and leaves of the sycamore trees swayed gently, creating a pleasant scene that made Leon marvel at the tranquility and beauty of the environment.

He casually flipped through the books on the table, wanting to learn about their contents, but gradually sensed something was amiss.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed subtle traces of magic remaining on the book. Leon was startled; he believed he had found a clue. This book was very likely the direct source of the curse that had befallen Professor Logan, the medium through which the curse was induced.

Leon gently pushed open Professor Polan's door, and was greeted by a completely different scene. He took a deep breath.

"Found it, Professor Bolan."

Leon's voice held a hint of determination as he handed the book to Professor Polan. Professor Polan took the book, nodded slightly, and then busied himself preparing the ritual to break the curse.

Leon turned to look at Professor Logan, who was lying peacefully on the bed. Presumably, Professor Polan had used some kind of magic to temporarily alleviate the severe effects of the curse.

Leon's gaze swept across the room, noticing the dense patterns drawn on the walls. These patterns were obscure to him, but he deduced that they must be runes necessary to break the curse. His gaze then fell on the spot where his teacher, Polan, had been, where a neat circle of candles stood, and one candle was placed in each of the four corners of the room, casting an eerie and mysterious atmosphere over the entire space.

Although Leon was filled with curiosity about the candle's purpose, he resisted the urge to ask, realizing it would be inappropriate to ask in such a serious setting. He could only concentrate on observing Professor Polan's every move.

He noticed that Master Polan placed the book in the center of a circle of candles, muttering incantations in a low, mysterious voice. At first, Leon didn't sense anything amiss, but as Master Polan continued his incantations, a nameless fear gradually enveloped him.

He shook his head in disbelief, deeply shocked: Why? Why could he recognize the language he used before his transmigration from Master Polan's incantation? This familiar yet strange feeling made his heart pound.

Teacher Polan seemed oblivious to Leon's unusual behavior; his entire focus was on the ritual, chanting incantations as he proceeded step by step with the ritual to break the curse.

As time slowly passed, the books, which had been motionless, suddenly burst into flames, the flickering light illuminating the silent room. At the same time, streams of black magic flowed from Logan's body like water, slowly flowing towards the burning books.

Ultimately, the medium vanished in the flames, leaving not even ashes, as if it had never existed in this space.

Leon remained indifferent to the progress of the ceremony, his thoughts still reeling from the shock he had felt earlier. He felt as if his life trajectory had been meticulously orchestrated by some force, and that his every move was being watched by some unseen force. This thought sent chills down his spine, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body, as if an invisible pair of eyes were watching him intently from the shadows.

"Professor Leon, the ceremony is complete."

Ms. Polan noticed Leon's absent-mindedness and mistakenly assumed that he was still reliving the profound ceremony that had just taken place.

Leon snapped out of his reverie, unsure of what to do next. He looked up at Professor Polan, then turned his gaze to Professor Logan lying on the bed. A wave of self-mockery washed over him. He had always tried so hard to integrate into every aspect of this world, yet he had never imagined that, from beginning to end, he had always been an outsider.

"Rhine, live well."

His elder brother's words echoed in his ears, and tears welled up in his eyes involuntarily. He felt exhausted, a weariness that penetrated to his very bones. He fought back his tears, struggling to lift his head and prevent them from falling. In his heart, though the road ahead was uncertain, at least he had to keep living.

Mr. Logan had regained consciousness, his gaze shifting between Mr. Leon and Mr. Polan, his words filled with gratitude. Mr. Polan briefly recounted the ritual and offered to help Mr. Logan track down the murderer. However, Mr. Logan politely declined, insisting on investigating the matter himself and not wanting to burden the two of them further.

Afterwards, Leon specifically asked Professor Polan about the spells. Professor Polan seemed somewhat confused, explaining that the spells were all recorded in books, and he himself only understood a portion of them.

Leon then asked his teacher, Polan, if he could borrow the book for a few days so he could study it more thoroughly. Polan readily agreed, explaining that it had been passed down to him by his teacher, who told him it was the original book of curse magic.

After a brief exchange, Leon bid farewell to Professor Polan and returned to his residence with the original magic book.

He was filled with doubt: why did the curse spells in this book use the language he was familiar with before his transmigration, while the other spells he had learned did not? At least, Leon had consulted many books on curse spells in the academy library, but none of them recorded this.

He recalled what his teacher, Polan, had told him about what his teacher had told him. This was the original book of curses, so the other books weren't the originals, but rather modified? This mystery drove him, making him eager to find the answer in the books.