Academy’s Undercover Professor-Chapter 316: The Path in the Darkness (3)

Ludger opened his eyes.

As he lifted his head, the scenery around him came into view.

Reference books and study materials, open workbooks, even a pencil laid across the desk.

‘This place is...’

Just as he began to register the strange familiarity of it all—

“You’re awake? You must’ve been tired.”

At the voice from behind, the boy turned his head.

His small room.

There, on the bed, someone was sitting.

A man in his mid-30s, gentle in appearance, radiating a kind and serene atmosphere.

The boy, upon seeing him, involuntarily murmured:

“Father.”

“Father? Oh my, my boy’s all grown up. Not calling me ‘Dad’ anymore, huh? So, how’s your studying going?”

Looking at the reference books spread out on his desk, the boy suddenly remembered what was going on.

He must have dozed off while studying.

“Yeah, well. I’ve just been doing my best.”

“That’s good. My son says he wants to become a doctor or a scientist, so as family, I’ve got to support him. But still, don’t overdo it. I’m worried you’ll wear yourself out and get sick.”

“It’s fine. I just nodded off for a bit, that’s all.”

Making an excuse that barely counted as one, the boy picked up his pencil again.

With exams approaching, he had no intention of resting even on the weekend. He focused his gaze on the workbook, ready to solve the next problem—when he realized something was off.

Why was I even studying?

A small, random question surfaced.

Something he normally wouldn’t have even considered, and yet he found himself desperately searching for the answer.

Right. He had a dream.

He was studying this hard because of that dream.

‘But what was it that made me dream in the first place...?’

Clatter.

The pencil slipped from the boy’s hand and rolled across the desk.

It tumbled off the edge, but he made no move to catch it.

“I see.”

The boy rose from his chair and turned to face his father.

“This is a dream.”

“......”

His father gave a gentle nod, still smiling warmly.

The boy looked at him, lips parting to say something.

But in the end, the words never formed, dissolving like smoke in his mouth.

He bit his lower lip and slowly walked to the door.

As he placed a hand on the doorknob, his father asked:

“You’re going?”

“Yes.”

The boy answered without turning, eyes fixed on the knob.

“There’s someone I need to help. So I have to go.”

“I see.”

He said the words, but still couldn’t bring himself to open the door.

Maybe...

Maybe he was hoping his father would ask him to stay just a little longer.

Just for a bit, to talk with him.

It was a dream, after all—wasn’t that allowed?

His grip on the doorknob loosened.

“Father, I...”

“Go on.”

The boy’s eyes widened at those words.

He looked back with trembling pupils.

His father was gazing at him with a proud expression.

And in that moment, the boy understood.

There was no need to say what had been left unsaid.

His grip tightened again.

“Yes. I’ll go now.”

The boy flung the door open.

A pure white void stretched out before him.

But without hesitation, he stepped forward.

There was no need for a farewell.

He’d already heard everything he needed.

And before long, the child’s figure changed into that of Ludger Cherish.

* * *

Pitch-black darkness.

An endless abyss of unconsciousness.

And at its bottom—countless vivid red flowers bloomed.

They were beautiful, but radiated an eerie sense, as though soaked in blood.

Flora lay silently amid the flower field.

“Nngh...”

She opened her eyes.

Rising to her elbows, she looked around.

“Where... is this...?”

Her dazed pupils slowly regained focus.

Realizing what had happened, Flora pressed a hand to her forehead.

‘Right. Back then...’

Black mist had seeped up from cracks in the ground.

It ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ had moved with intent, aiming for Rine—until Flora stepped forward to shield her.

Then she’d been swallowed whole by the fog, and her vision went black.

When she opened her eyes again, she was here.

“Is anyone there?!”

Flora stood and shouted.

But no response came.

She started walking.

Through the red flower field of this dark world.

A realm composed only of black and crimson—monotonous, terrifying. She wanted to escape it as quickly as possible.

“Isn’t anyone out there?!”

She shouted louder, but the darkness swallowed her voice.

Not even an echo replied.

Flora couldn’t grasp how vast this place was.

It felt massive. Possibly infinite.

The thought sent a cold shiver through her brain.

What if I never get out?

Tap!

Panicked, Flora broke into a run across the flower field.

The soft rustle of red petals brushing against her ankles disgusted her.

It felt like unseen hands constantly caressing her legs.

Everywhere she passed, crimson petals scattered and fluttered into the air.

Running, Flora cried out.

If anyone could hear her—if anyone could help—

But how long did she run like that?

Breath ragged, she eventually collapsed to her knees.

“Please... someone...”

She begged through trembling sobs, but still the world remained silent.

She knew, deep down.

No one was coming.

Because she had always been alone from the beginning.

And the moment she accepted that truth she’d always denied—

All will to go on vanished.

Like a marionette with its strings cut, Flora slumped over and hung her head.

No one was coming to rescue her.

Not family. Not friends. No one.

Maybe it was better this way.

Someone like her... was useless anyway.

Maybe it’d be better if she just disappeared.

Staying here didn’t seem so bad anymore.

There was no one here to meet.

And so, no one to hurt her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

A single drop clung to her chin and then fell—plip—onto the crimson petals below.

And gradually...

Flora’s consciousness began to fade, melting into the flower field.

Her body too became increasingly transparent.

Lost motivation. Fading awareness.

Her once-firm identity as Flora was about to shut down, like a switch being turned off.

But then—

In a world that had known only red flowers...

Something changed.

Crack!

A dull thud, like a fist striking something solid.

And a single beam of light angled down, shining upon Flora’s translucent form.

She slowly lifted her bowed head. Her vacant gaze stared straight ahead.

There, in the void, was a hairline fracture—just a sliver.

The light shining on her was leaking through that crack.

Crack! Crackle!

More dull blows followed.

The fracture spread, like a spiderweb of light.

As the gap widened, the light grew clearer.

And then—

The void shattered.

Black fragments burst apart like embers.

Beyond the broken darkness lay a brilliant white world made entirely of light.

And standing upon the flower field, against that radiant backdrop—

Was a man.

“Ah...”

Flora’s pupils dilated.

Her lips trembled.

As if unable to believe the sight before her, she whispered his name.

“Ludger... Sir?”

“Flora Lumos.”

Ludger stood there, looking directly at her.

His face was pale, and the light had yet to return to his eyes.

Most of all—his body was beginning to turn translucent.

But Flora... was still alive.

It wasn’t too late.

“Why... why are you here, Sir...?”

“I came to help.”

“Help...? You mean me?”

At Flora’s dazed question, Ludger nodded.

She wanted to thank him—but the moment she recalled her situation, she bit her lip instead.

Torn between sorrow and relief, the conflicting emotions churned inside her. She glared at Ludger sharply.

“Why? So now you’re pretending to care?”

“......”

“I know everything. You don’t actually care about me, do you? I’m just a talented student to you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Flora.”

“Why did you come here? Why?! You should’ve just abandoned me! Just like my family did! If you had... maybe I wouldn’t be suffering like this.”

Flora lashed out, like a hedgehog bristling with needles.

Ludger listened in silence.

And once she lowered her voice, he carefully spoke.

“Flora. I won’t deny that I came here to save you as a teacher.”

“There. See?”

“But that role is only secondary. The real reason I came here is you. I came simply because I was worried about you.”

“You’re worried about me? Ha! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I know you’re hurting. I understand your position. I’ve experienced something similar myself. That’s why I couldn’t leave you alone.”

“Don’t lie!”

Flora was convinced Ludger was just saying what he had to in order to convince her.

How else could he claim to understand?

Abandoned by her family.

Branded a heretic for religious reasons at a young age.

Even though it never happened in the end, the memory of that day had become a scar she could never erase.

And he claimed he understood that?

Said he’d been through something similar?

Who the hell did he think he was?

“What do you even know about me, huh?! You say you understand? How could you possibly?! Do you know how much I’ve suffered?! How much it’s torn me apart?!”

Flora screamed, spewing the darkness that had festered inside her.

It was behavior she’d never show under normal circumstances—but right now, she lacked even the awareness of that.

“You—do you even know what it feels like to be abandoned by your own family?!”

“......Flora.”

“Don’t say my name in that voice!”

As she shouted, the world began to shake.

Then, from behind her—something stirred.

A shadow, pitch black, began to rise like smoke behind her back.

[Yeah. Flora hates that.]

A figure like a paper doll with an elongated torso.

On its flickering, mirage-like face—white eyes and a mouth appeared.

Ludger narrowed his gaze, instantly recognizing the figure.

“Basara.”

[What a surprise. I never imagined magic could reach into the depths of the unconscious. But how unfortunate. Flora doesn’t want to leave.]

Ludger gave no response to Basara’s words.

Instead, he turned to Flora and asked:

“Flora. Do you truly not intend to leave this place?”

“If I do leave, what changes? It’ll all be the same. The jealous glances, the looks of contempt, the family that refuses to acknowledge me... Nothing will change.”

“There is something.”

“What...?”

“I said, something will change.”

Ludger’s words were closer to a declaration than a suggestion. Flora moved her lips wordlessly.

“W-What are you even talking about?”

“That’s up to you to decide.”

“I’m the one who decides...?”

Her voice weakened.

Flora had desperately wanted to be saved.

Maybe, deep down, she’d been hoping.

That Ludger would reach out and help her. That he’d promise to protect her once she got back.

But Ludger didn’t seem like he intended to save her at all.

“Flora. You’ve longed for salvation—someone to reach out, someone to lift you up. I understand that desire more than you know.”

“Then why...”

“Because, Flora. In the end... what needs to change—is you.”

“......”

“Even if I help you... if you don’t have the will to walk on your own, my help will be meaningless. It’ll only provide temporary relief. It won’t solve anything.”

“......”

“And if I try to change you myself, then that’s my will, not yours. You’ll end up living a life shaped by someone else. Is that truly the life you want?”

Ludger met her gaze with unwavering eyes.

There wasn’t a shred of deceit.

Not even the softening words one might offer out of kindness—just cold, unflinching truth.

“Salvation isn’t something you wish for from others. It’s something you must seize for yourself. No one else can live your life for you. No one can fully understand your despair. And naturally... no one else can overcome it for you, either.”

Ludger never uttered words like “I’ll save you” lightly.

Because to do so would be unbearably arrogant.

The only one who could save her...

Was herself.

“So I’ll ask you again, Flora. Do you want to change?”

Salvation.

That thing people crave even if it never comes—expecting it from others is an excessive demand.

At least, that’s what Ludger believed.

And so, he never offered salvation lightly.

Salvation handed out by someone else was no salvation at all.

It was just another form of bondage masquerading as kindness.

In the end, a person must rise with their own will.

They had to fight with their own strength.

All Ludger could offer was a small push on their back.

“If you want to change, I’ll help you. As long as you don’t give up on yourself—I’ll be rooting for you.”

That was the life Ludger had lived.

The path he had walked.

His conviction.

“......”

Flora hesitated.

If she were being honest, she did want to leave this place and return outside.

But the outside world... terrified her.

Everything that had hurt her was still out there, waiting.

Facing it again was an unbearable thought.

Still.

If even one person were there to help her—then maybe, just maybe...

[That’s a bit much.]

A voice interrupted them.

[You’re having such an interesting conversation without me? That’s rude.]

The shadow behind Flora—Basara—began to expand in size.

From a modest three meters, it grew until she had to tilt her head back just to see the top.

[Flora. Have you forgotten? The outside world is nothing but pain. But here? It’s different. If you stay here, no one can hurt you. Because I’ll make sure of that.]

Basara bent its massive form and whispered into her ear.

[I understand you. We’re one and the same. Only I can truly empathize with your pain.]

“Ah...”

[Don’t believe that man. You know it, don’t you? No matter what he says, he’s never truly acknowledged you. He’s a liar.]

Flora’s thoughts spun into confusion under Basara’s whispering.

But then Ludger stepped forward.

“I noticed it when we fought before...”

Basara lifted its head to meet his eyes.

Its black face and stark white eyes were unsettlingly simple—yet that very simplicity made them terrifyingly expressionless.

“You talk too much.”

[Oh? You’re saying that to me now, of all times?]

Basara straightened its towering frame.

Just the act of rising made it feel as though a mountain had suddenly appeared.

[This is my realm—my domain. It’s not the outside world. Did you really think some pitiful human’s mind could stand against me here?]

“So it’s a battle of willpower, is it?”

Ludger glanced briefly at the kneeling Flora before staring back up at Basara.

“Well then. Let’s see how far I can go.”

Because that’s why he came.