A Talentless Mage Devours a Disaster-Class Future - Chapter 24

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 24

“…No.”

Snicker—
A sneer leaked out from the opposite side of the Classroom.

It was that thug, the one who’d been shifting seats with his gang.

The same one who’d picked a fight with Aion earlier and been humiliated when Dorothy blocked him.

He’d seized on what he thought was finally his moment. He stopped in his tracks, pointed toward them, and clutched his stomach in laughter.

“Pfft-hah! What’s with that pathetic state? Isn’t that the Calion Kingdom right before its collapse?”

He glanced around before continuing.

“The historical accuracy is perfect, though. A stutterer, infantile regression, an expulsion candidate… and…”

His gaze fixed on Cassius.

“A naked king to top it off.”

Aion’s eyes followed naturally in that direction.

Hm—

Cassius smiled faintly. Still leaning with his arms crossed, he merely turned his head slightly toward the thug. It was the measured movement of someone who’d found what he was looking for.

“Tell me thy name.”

The thug’s laughter cut off abruptly.

“…What?”
“The name of one foolish enough to make himself my enemy.”

His voice remained soft. But his eyes did not smile, and that very gap conveyed his intent far more clearly than words alone could.

The thug seemed to realize it belatedly. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I… uh…”

He glanced back nervously. The apparent leader of the gang was frowning darkly, and that expression alone was enough to guess what he might say.

“Idiot…”

Short and cold. The thug’s face stiffened.

“Listen.”

Cassius spoke again. Unlike his earlier measured tone, this time it was curt and absolute.

“Your name.”
“…R-Renard de Valois.”
“I see.”

Cassius merely nodded once.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Whoosh—

Renard sank into his seat like a puppet with its strings cut. The leader turned to him and spoke quietly.

“What on earth were you thinking, touching Cassius like that?”
“I, it was….”
“You might have to pay the price for acting on your own.”

Aion looked away.

‘…Disgusting.’

He found the leader’s reproach now more repulsive than Renard’s ridicule had been.

To sit in silence while the man mocked him and his teammates, only to suddenly turn disapproving once Cassius intervened—that was what sickened him.

“Anyway.”

Cassius shifted the subject. He uncrossed his arms as though the previous moment had never occurred, and turned his gaze toward his teammates. Then he opened his palm in a gesture inviting them to speak.

“The King asks you now: who shall be my Vanguard Commander?”

Silence fell.

“I, I, I, I, me….”

Darren raised his hand. His lips worked nervously for several moments before he forced the words out, but despite his apparent resolve, what came sounded far from convincing.

“No matter! That loyalty alone warrants my deepest gratitude! You shall be my loyal subject!”

“Miss Claire.”
“It’s Vera. Hell, who even is Claire?”

“Right, it’s too weak.”
“A pity! Yet you may prove its worth by protecting the King. Thus you too shall be my loyal subject!”

“…….”

“Sigh… this won’t be easy.”
“…?”

Cassius’s expression darkened with displeasure.

“Forgive my bluntness.”

Cassius examined Aion from head to toe, then back again—a thorough, appraising sweep.

His gaze weighed and measured, and the conclusion it had reached was plainly visible in his face: it was not favorable.

“Aion, is it? You look far too passive for combat. Your aggression is severely lacking.”
“…Is that so?”

The remark was crude, yet delivered with such candor that it didn’t sting like a barbed insult.

‘Lacking aggression… that’s one way to put it.’

Aion said nothing. Cassius wasn’t wrong, and there was no need to defend himself here.

Taking the silence as disagreement, Cassius pressed on.

“How many Offensive Magic spells do you know?”

It was a question Aion could answer without hesitation—so few he didn’t need to count on his fingers.

“…Two.”

At those words, both Darren and Vera’s Teddy Bear Puppets swiveled toward Aion in unison.

“…What?”
“That’s worse than me….”

Earthquake Magic and Meltdown—those were the only two Offensive Magic spells Aion possessed, so his answer was painfully true.

“Hahahaha!”

Cassius burst out laughing.
Not a forced laugh, but the sound of a man who had grimly confirmed an uncomfortable truth.

“I appreciate the honesty, at least. Though I’m afraid your frankness won’t solve the Kingdom’s problems.”

Even as his laughter faded, Cassius’s gaze drifted sideways—to the empty space on the roster.

“The real problem is still missing. Everything else is just a minor concern.”

The warmth left his voice.
Darren peered at the roster and carefully pointed to a line with one finger.

“Th-th-th-th…there.”
“Hmm?”
“Ar-ar-ar-ar-aria… when is she coming?”

The team’s attention converged on the roster.

Aria di Valera.
The jewel of Calion. The Empire’s foremost Prima, cloaked in flowers and accolades from the Imperial Capital itself.

Aion’s gaze settled briefly on that name.

“He’ll come back one day, though….”

Cassius tapped his finger against that name on the list.

“But that’s not the problem.”

Vera’s puppet lifted its head.

“What’s the problem, then?”
“Convincing that one….”

Cassius’s words trailed off. He studied the list for a moment, then glanced around at his teammates.

“It may well be impossible.”

Cassius had clearly meant her.

“…Do you know Aria?”

Aion asked.

“A friend I’ve known since she was very young. But….”

Cassius stopped there, as if he had no intention of continuing.

A fair-haired man from Bannathe and a celebrated prima from the Imperial Capital.

No matter how hard Aion tried to picture it, he couldn’t quite grasp that the two had been friends since childhood.

“W-w-w-well, then….”

Darren opened his mouth again.

“D-d-d-do we not even get to take the assessment?”

Cassius tilted his head back toward the ceiling. Something like a sigh escaped him.

“Entering the Bosco Battle without our full strength is honestly no different from fighting with one arm tied behind our backs from the start.”

No one objected. There was no refuting that.

“Can’t you bring Aria, Cassius?”

Vera’s puppet asked briefly.

Cassius brought his gaze down from the ceiling. He looked around at his teammates once more, then slowly shook his head.

“It’s nearly impossible for me.”

It was an honest answer.

A silence fell. Breaking through it, that theatrical glint returned to Cassius’s eyes, subtle and knowing.

“However….”

He rose slowly. The reluctance that had just suffused him dissolved like a lie, and his voice climbed a notch higher.

“You all might manage it differently.”
“Pardon?”
“One of you—who is it?”

All eyes turned toward Cassius.

“Whoever dares pluck the flower that blooms so pitifully at the cliff’s edge! Whoever accepts this brave challenge to forge the destiny of this Kingdom!”

Darren’s hand shot up.

“C-c-c-can’t d-d-do it…. I c-c-can’t do s-s-something like that….”

His lips pressed forward urgently toward the next words, but his hand dropped first.

Cassius watched and nodded slowly.

“As I thought. I wasn’t expecting much from you anyway.”

Vera quietly lifted the puppet’s arm. Its small hand pointed toward Aion.

“Aion will do it.”

Aion looked at Vera.

“Vera.”

Her puppet’s head tilted upward.

“…Even so, you call me by my name.”

Aion turned his gaze from Cassius to Vera to Darren in turn.

“Cassius, that thing….”

Cassius’s eyes shifted toward him.
Aion met his gaze directly and spoke.

“I’ll do it.”

***

As Aion stepped out through the Classroom door, warm wind brushed his cheek first.

He wandered aimlessly before settling onto a bench in Campus Park, leaning his back against its hard wooden slats and staring into empty space.

— Aria di Valera wasn’t staying at the dormitory. She lives in the Academy City Residential District of Exion.

The location of her outside lodgings that Cassius had mentioned. And those words.

— That one has probably already returned.

Aion turned the phrase over slowly in his mind. Already arrived in Exion. Yet she hadn’t come to class.

‘…Did she never intend to come from the start?’

If so, then perhaps she’d keep on not coming.
That’s when it happened.

Tap-tap-tap-tap—

Footsteps drew steadily closer.

The moment Aion lifted his head, an old hat with a wide brim came into view.
Beneath it, orange hair rippled in the wind.

Dorothy was charging straight at Aion, her golden eyes locked on him with full force.

“…Dorothy?”

The granddaughter of Granbel, the Archmage who had laughed at the student provoking Aion in the Classroom. It was Dorothy.

“Aion—!”

The next instant came.

Crack.

“Huh—?”

Over a small, unremarkable stone, a small but decidedly remarkable genius mage went sailing straight into the air.

Whoosh.

Aion rising from the bench was almost reflex.

One step. He stretched out his arm and caught Dorothy’s waist as she flew toward him.

“Oof—!”

Dorothy’s body stopped dead in the air. Only her hat rolled forward on its own.

A moment of silence fell.

Dorothy slowly raised her head, still rigid. Her golden eyes met Aion’s.

“…….”
“…….”

Aion slowly set Dorothy on her feet. She straightened her clothes, then glanced toward the hat rolling away before looking back at Aion.

“…Aion, you saw me trip just now, didn’t you?”
“I caught you in the first place.”

Dorothy’s cheeks flushed crimson.

“Then you must forget it!”
“…….”

Without a word, Aion turned and trudged toward the hat rolling across the ground. He bent down and picked it up.

Then he came back and placed the hat firmly on Dorothy’s head.

The hat sank down to her eyes.

Dorothy lifted the brim with her hand and looked up at Aion.

“Why didn’t you wait for me in front of the Classroom?”
“You never asked me to wait.”
“…You mean I didn’t?”
“Right.”
“…….”

Dorothy fell silent for a moment.
Her lips parted as though to object, then closed again without a word.

She walked to the bench first and settled into a seat, then tapped the spot beside her with her palm.

“Sit down for a moment.”

Aion sat beside her without speaking.

Silence stretched between them, filled by the soft ambient sounds of the Campus Park. Beyond the sparsely placed stone lanterns lining the path, the distant footsteps of students moving between the Lecture Hall Building drifted through the evening air.

Dorothy spoke first.

“How is your time at Exion?”

The question carried the tone of casual concern more than genuine inquiry.

Aion considered for a moment.

“It’s manageable, I suppose.”

His gaze remained fixed ahead.

“Nothing particularly bad or good—just an ordinary day-to-day existence.”

Dorothy studied him after hearing this.

“For someone saying ‘manageable,’ you’ve had quite a lot happen, haven’t you?”

Aion said nothing.

“There was the fire incident.”

Dorothy’s voice softened, its edge quite different from her earlier tone.

“I heard you were injured.”
“Not badly.”
“That sturdy frame of yours being unscathed is hardly surprising. That’s not what I’m asking about.”

Dorothy adjusted the brim of her hat slightly with her hand, eyes forward.

“I’m speaking to the fact that you were hurt at all.”

Aion looked at her for a moment.

“Were you… worried?”
“Worried? That’s preposterous.”

Seated on the bench, Dorothy’s feet—barely grazing the ground—swung gently back and forth.

“It’s just… something to say.”

Aion glanced ahead for a moment.

“I was stiff for a few days, but I’m fine now.”

Dorothy gave a small nod, her hat dipping with her head.

“Then I’m relieved.”

Dorothy swung her feet back and forth slowly, then turned her head toward Aion.

“That boy who picked a fight with you in the Classroom today—what was his name again? Lunar?”
“Renard.”
“…You’re quite sharp, aren’t you? Remembering a name after hearing it just once.”

Aion looked at Dorothy.

“You were forcing that smile, weren’t you?”
“What?”

Her golden eyes blinked lightly beneath the brim of her hat.

“You smiled like that on purpose—so I wouldn’t get into trouble.”

Dorothy’s hands fluttered anxiously in the air.

“That can’t be it. What on earth would make you think that?”
……
“…Did I give myself away?”

Dorothy pulled her hat down firmly. A faint blush on her cheeks was half-hidden beneath the wide brim.
Silence stretched between them, then a small sigh escaped her.

“I can’t fool you, can I? Your intuition is just too sharp.”

Aion gazed ahead as he spoke.

“But why bring up Renard in the first place?”

Dorothy’s feet began to swing back and forth again.

“It wasn’t because of Renard. It was because of the one standing behind him.”
……
“I’ve picked up on some rumors myself.”

Dorothy’s voice grew slightly more serious.

“Mark de Senel. They say he has a gloomy, vicious temperament. You should be more wary of him than someone like Renard.”
“…Is that name accurate?”
“…It might not be?”

A brief silence fell.

“Anyway, Aion, it’s best not to get tangled up with wicked people needlessly.”

Aion said nothing for a moment.

“Well, I’ll try my best.”

Dorothy, who had been watching him briefly, soon let out a small sigh—the sigh of someone who knew that words would fall on deaf ears.

“More importantly, about what you said today regarding the Kingdom… I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything….”
“Hmm?”
“You said you’d bring Aria along?”
“Oh, yes.”

Dorothy looked up at Aion.

“Do you know Aria, Aion?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why did you say you’d bring me if you don’t know?”
“Yes.”

Dorothy fell silent, studying Aion’s face for a moment. Then she murmured softly to herself.

“…Still the same, I see.”

She smiled faintly and rose to take her leave.

“I should be going now. We’ll see each other again.”

Aion nodded.

Dorothy stepped down from the bench. The moment her small feet touched the ground, she turned back toward Aion.

“Don’t hurt yourself. Don’t overexert.”

She paused briefly, then placed a small hand on top of Aion’s head—a touch that was neither hesitant nor careful, but natural and assured.

“Just take care of yourself.”

Aion didn’t pull away from her hand.

“You haven’t changed either.”
“Of course not. It’s barely been a year.”
“…Old soul.”
“And who exactly are you to say that?”

Dorothy laughed softly and turned to go, her hat fluttering as she moved.

It was then that Aion spoke.

“From now on, you don’t need to worry about me like this.”

Dorothy’s footsteps stopped.

What awaited him in Exion, he would have to face alone. This was not a place where he could rely on Dorothy’s help. Aion knew that, and Dorothy knew it too.

Dorothy turned slowly, a faint smile crossing her face.

“But.”

She gazed at Aion with golden eyes.

“You will always be my student, Aion.”

The Talentless Mage Swallows a Calamitous Future — Chapter 24

Author
Wangmoji
Publisher
Daon Creative
Planning / Editing / Production
Yeon
Cover
Dalli

UCI
G720:N+A036-20260706063.0024

© 2026, Wang Motchi

※ This e-book is a copyrighted work protected under the copyright law of the Republic of Korea.
No part or whole of this work may be reproduced or modified in any form without the express permission of the author and publisher.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————