I Made Up Forbidden Spells, and They Actually Worked?

It wasn't that Barnis George was overly self-assured; it was just that each class was typically structured with an attacking magic instructor, a defensive magic instructor, a support magic instructor, and a daily-life magic instructor.

Normally, the attacking magic instructor attracted the most attention, and since Barnis George was standing so close to Dean Bruce, he mistakenly thought the students' eager gazes toward Dean Bruce were directed at him.

This misunderstanding made Barnis George even more excited.

Even though the number of students per class was fixed and couldn't be exceeded, the more students that chose his class, the more he could selectively admit those with better talent. Teaching these promising students would increase his chances of earning rewards from the alliance.

Dean Bruce, on the other hand, wasn't particularly concerned about that. As long as enough students were assigned to his class, he was content. What really mattered to him was crafting a convincing spiel to continue his ruse!

Only use the old saying is not perfect.

Just as Dean Bruce was mentally preparing his next set of lines, something happened that took all the instructors, including André Maxwell, by complete surprise.

Every single new student—over a hundred in total—rushed to the platform where Dean Bruce stood, their faces filled with fervor, looking like zealous devotees.

Even though André Maxwell's reputation in Notting City commanded respect and kept the students from shouting recklessly, they all stared intently at Dean Bruce, their eyes brimming with hope.

"This… what's going on?"

"Does Barnis George really have that much pull?"

Murmurs of confusion spread among the instructors as well as André Maxwell, all of them shifting their focus to Barnis George, utterly puzzled by what was happening.

Furrowing his brow as he pieced together the situation, André Maxwell finally asked in a serious tone, "Are you all saying you want to join Class Two, under Barnis George and the other three instructors?"

"That's right!"

As soon as Barnis George's grin began to widen, expecting the students' choice to be in his favor, every single one of them suddenly shouted, "We want to learn from Dean Bruce!"

"…"

Barnis George's eyes widened in shock, his entire body freezing in place as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

The smile that had begun to form on his face slowly faded away.

How could it be Dean Bruce?

He was supposed to be the main instructor for Class Two, the one responsible for teaching attacking magic!

The other instructors, while surprised, were more focused on their own confusion and disbelief. It was shocking to see such a strong preference, regardless of whether it was for Dean Bruce or Barnis George.

For a moment, the entire training ground fell into an unexpected silence, broken only by the chants of the students.

"Dean Bruce!"

"Dean Bruce!"

"…"

Even Dean Bruce, snapped out of his thoughts, was taken aback. He hadn't expected that a single exam would lead to so many students wanting to study under him.

After all, the magic he had demonstrated, The Compassion of Heaven and Earth, was defensive, not offensive. Typically, students would want to learn attacking magic—so why were they all clamoring for him?

After a few moments, André Maxwell regained his composure and spoke in a calm voice, "Dean Bruce's capacity is limited. Let's have him select thirty students to join Class Two."

The students, understanding that they couldn't all be placed in the same class, had anticipated this decision. They turned their hopeful, almost pleading eyes toward Dean Bruce, each silently praying to be chosen.

Dean Bruce's eyes darted around before he suddenly said, "Headmaster, so many students are eager to learn from me. I can't bear to disappoint any of them by choosing one over another! As a mentor, how can I just stand by and watch these students be let down?"

"Why don't we add an extra class outside the regular schedule? I could teach all the new students together. That way, we don't have to worry about who gets picked, and everyone can still be assigned to their proper classes!"

Of course, with the system's existence, the more students Dean Bruce could influence, the better.

After all, successfully "guiding" students to learn magic through his unconventional methods would likely have a lower success rate than traditional teaching. To ensure that there were enough students with the right talent or those who happened to resonate with his "teachings" to actually grasp the magic, a broader approach was necessary.

As soon as he spoke, the entire field fell silent. Students and teachers alike stared at Dean Bruce in astonishment.

Especially the other instructors—they were utterly baffled. Handling a single class was already exhausting enough, and here was Dean Bruce, seemingly out of his mind, volunteering to take on even more students!

André Maxwell, familiar with Dean Bruce, immediately sensed that this was far from his usual behavior, and his expression grew serious.

Seeing André Maxwell remain silent, Dean Bruce sighed softly and added, "Headmaster, surely you can't bear to see so many students disappointed either, can you?"

If Alita Miller were here to witness this, she would undoubtedly learn the art of true persuasion, and what it meant to apply subtle moral pressure.

Sure enough, as Dean Bruce's words hung in the air, the eyes of over a hundred students turned to André Maxwell.

Feeling the intense gaze of so many, André Maxwell felt as if he were being burned by a fiery blaze. Left with no other choice, he reluctantly agreed, "I'm only concerned about you overworking yourself. But since you've put it that way, what else can I say? Alright then, once classes start, on every other rest day, instead of taking a break, you'll hold your extra lessons."

Although they were called "rest days," in reality, most students spent them tirelessly practicing. The change wouldn't really make much difference.

Upon hearing that they would get to learn from Dean Bruce after all, the students erupted into cheers.

Meanwhile, André Maxwell's confusion only deepened. What was going on with these students?

Learning that Dean Bruce would be offering a separate class, the students no longer insisted on joining his particular group. In no time, those gathered around his section began to disperse, moving toward the other two groups.

This sight caused Barnis George's face to contort in frustration.

Not only were the students not flocking to him, but now they were leaving entirely.

"Do they really think I'm worse than the other instructors?" he fumed internally.

His resentment grew, and his gaze toward Dean Bruce became increasingly peculiar.

But given Dean Bruce's immense popularity and his close relationship with Headmaster André Maxwell, Barnis George knew better than to let his bitterness show. Whenever Dean Bruce glanced his way, he was forced to plaster on a smile.

The class assignments wrapped up quickly. For Dean Bruce, things remained largely unchanged—he continued in his role as an assistant instructor. The only difference was the addition of a special class every two days.

He was content with this, as the magic he knew had been granted directly by the system, and he had no idea how to actually teach it.

Occasionally tricking others was one thing, but teaching for real? That would surely make his hair fall out!

As soon as the ceremony concluded, Dean Bruce darted off to the library without waiting for André Maxwell to call him back.

He had already finished reading the foundational magic theories. Though he hadn't completely mastered them, he knew that rereading wouldn't yield much more improvement.

He needed to find more advanced theoretical texts, ones from which he could extract enough knowledge to keep deceiving others effectively.

By the afternoon, as Dean Bruce was deeply engrossed in his reading, Alita Miller approached him. "Dean, you're quite the diligent one," she said with a playful tone. "Right after the class assignment ceremony, and here you are, buried in books."

Dean Bruce glanced at her briefly before returning to his book. "Did you find out anything about the matter I asked you to investigate?"

"Not yet," Alita Miller replied with a shake of her head, smiling. "The person behind it all—someone who could convince a seasoned instructor to attack you within the alliance's territory—must have significant power and status. It's not the kind of information you can uncover quickly."

"I came because I heard about your recent exploits and was so impressed that I simply wanted to spend more time with you."

Alita Miller was a formidable instructor responsible for teaching the upperclassmen, so she hadn't attended the freshman class assignments.

But Dean Bruce had made such a splash that his name had quickly spread throughout the entire academy.

This only deepened Joan Michelle's admiration and respect for him, further confirming her suspicions about his mysterious background.

Dean Bruce put down his book and fixed his gaze on Alita Miller, speaking in a low voice, "Enough with the pretense. Say what you need to say directly. There's no need to waste either of our time."

Clap!

"Bravo!" Alita Miller clapped her hands with a grin. "Dean, you really don't beat around the bush. Fine, I'll get straight to the point—I've got some good news for you."

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