I Became A Flashing Genius At The Magic Academy-Chapter 387

When Aryumon Bluershon arrived at the Northern Ice Mountain Range, the situation was already nearing its resolution.

At the entrance to the range, a massive dome-shaped black barrier stretched across the landscape, trapping hundreds of mage-warriors and troubleshooters in a state of helpless confusion.

Aryumon Bluershon arrived, hands in his suit pockets, dark circles hidden behind sunglasses, walking with a weary, nonchalant air.

“There you are.”

He spoke into the air, addressing Sael Ri, the elderly 9th-class mage who floated nearby, observing the scene. Sael Ri nodded in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been analyzing the barrier.”

“If a Persona Gate this size has synchronized with reality... even for us, that’s a challenge.”

It wasn’t impossible to solve, of course, but it would take an exceptionally long time.

“A mess created by a 9th-class black mage, no doubt,” Aryumon muttered to himself.

Disassembling the magic of a peer-level mage was always more complex than creating it. Solving their puzzle often proved even trickier than devising it.

“With something this large, even if the two of us worked together, it’d take at least a week.”

But there was no time for that. Two 9th-class mages couldn’t afford to be tied up here for long, given the pressing matters involving black mages elsewhere.

Not that Aryumon intended to attempt a full analysis in the first place.

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“What do you plan to do?” Sael Ri asked.

Aryumon shrugged and instinctively reached for a cigarette, but he stopped himself.

“I’ll propose a simplified route for the researchers and head back. I already have enough on my plate dealing with those black mages. What about you?”

“...I’ll stay and help with the analysis to the end.”

“Heh, plenty of time on your hands, I see.”

“And I find it more surprising that you’d walk away from such a catastrophe.”

“Well, once a Persona Gate settles into place, it doesn’t tend to shift for a while,” Aryumon replied. “Anyway, see you later.”

With that, Aryumon gave a light wave and turned to leave—but then it happened.

“W-what?!”

“What’s going on?”

“The Persona Gate is expanding!”

“...What?”

A low rumble filled the air.

The once-stationary Persona Gate, firmly established in its boundaries, suddenly began to expand.

It was already massive—larger than a sizable metropolis. If it grew any further, the consequences would be disastrous. Aryumon, alarmed, barked orders.

“Abandon all heavy equipment and retreat! Get to the carriages and move as far back as possible!”

There were ways to forcibly stop the Gate’s expansion, but the potential side effects were too dire to risk. For now, retreating was the safest option.

Aryumon himself began to pull back, but Sael Ri stood unmoving, rooted in place.

“Hey, Sael Ri! You’re going to get caught up in it!” Aryumon shouted.

Sael Ri didn’t respond. Instead, he calmly observed the barrier, then nodded and took flight, soaring into the air and quickly gaining distance.

“...Unbelievable. Such vigor at his age,” Aryumon muttered.

Though using mana twisted his insides painfully, Aryumon had no choice but to follow. He took off into the air, closing the gap between them before stopping at a safe distance.

“This is insane. How could the boundary expand this much? What’s happening inside?”

He scratched his head, reaching for a cigarette again, but something caught his attention at the boundary. The cigarette fell from his fingers.

“What the...? Could that be?”

The expanding Persona Gate’s boundary, once pitch-black like the void of deep space, began to change. It was a dimensional veil, distinctly separating reality from the false world within.

But now, it was... fading.

“What... is this even possible?”

On the ground, the mages were in utter chaos. Such a colossal Persona Gate synchronizing fully with reality was already a rare occurrence in history.

And whenever such events did occur, they left humanity with deep, indelible scars.

“Don’t tell me... even Baek Yuseol couldn’t stop this?”

Aryumon’s pupils dilated, his mind racing. Just then, Sael Ri spoke.

“Get a grip. Your illness has worsened lately; it seems even your brain has slowed down. Tsk, what a shame.”

“...What?”

Aryumon’s frustration flared at Sael Ri’s unexpected humor, but at the same time, his head cooled.

Sael Ri wasn’t one to joke in the face of a serious crisis.

Which meant...

“Ah... I see.”

Now calm, Aryumon turned his gaze inward and finally looked at the interior of the Persona Gate’s boundary.

“This is... truly...”

A world full of flowers and life.

The Northern Ice Mountain Range, once a desolate and frozen wasteland, was now covered in a false reality of spring’s warmth, blanketing the region with vibrant life.

“I never would have imagined...”

The fear of Persona Gate synchronization had always stemmed from its dire implications.

Some gates, filled with black magic, twisted all life into monstrous forms the moment they synchronized with reality. Others, laden with radiation, killed everything in their vicinity.

Most Persona Gates were inherently hostile to humanity, and synchronization was dreaded for that reason.

But this one was different—a beautiful world bursting with life.

“Baek Yuseol must have forcibly expanded the Gate, blurring its boundaries.”

“Indeed. He has brought spring back to the Ice Mountain Range, trapped in eternal winter by an ancient curse.”

If this Persona Gate successfully synchronized with reality, the region might indeed regain its spring.

But the fundamental question remained: could this spring last?

Deep within the mountains lay a sealing stone, covering the range in eternal ice. To protect this newfound spring, that stone would need to be destroyed.

“That task won’t fall to Baek Yuseol, will it?” Aryumon remarked.

“...No, it won’t.”

That was a mission for the knights of the Baekryeong Plateau Fortress.

Before spring could once again yield to the bitter winter, they would need to break through the monsters of the mountain and destroy the sealing stone deep within.

No commander of the fortress had ever succeeded in such a task.

“But Seolparam... expectations for that kid are high.”

With that thought, Aryumon let out a dry laugh and turned away.

“As I expected, he handled it well.”

“I’ll be going now. What about you?”

“I’ll stay and see it through.”

“Cautious as always.”

Sael Ri had always been that way.

Without further farewell, Aryumon left Sael Ri’s side and flew off.

They only met once every few decades, but both were confident they’d survive to meet again. No parting words were necessary.

For them, not saying goodbye was their way of promising to meet again.

***

*Click!*

The sound of a camera shutter snapping.

*Whirr!*

The noise of a tape rewinding, faint but grating.

*Click! Click!*

Something kept blinking, flickering in and out.

Stop it.

Full Frame writhed in agony at the sound of the shutter, the pain unbearable. Yet the camera didn’t stop.

*Click, click, click!*

She scrunched her face and shook her head frantically, trying to dispel the noise, but it wouldn’t vanish. Even when she removed her hands from her tightly clenched ears, the pain persisted.

And then, suddenly, her mind was flooded with a cacophony of nonsensical fragments:

"I was eating a hot dog today, and then someone said something weird about learning magic—why would they even say that—should I save money in a piggy bank—ugh, I regret this diet—exercise, bean sprouts are delicious, that sauce, the soup...”

Overwhelmed by the abrupt onslaught of disjointed thoughts, Full Frame screamed in desperation.

Please stop. Just stop!

Then, a voice reached her.

“It was our mistake.”

It was Hong Biyeon. Her face appeared before Full Frame’s eyes. No, it wasn’t really her—just a replay of a memory etched into Full Frame’s mind.

A golden temple.

Hong Biyeon was seated around a massive round table alongside others. They surrounded it in solemnity.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Hong Biyeon and Eisel were both gazing at the scene with serious expressions, but their words were muffled, their voices failing to reach Full Frame clearly.

“From the beginning...”

Eisel was saying something, but her words dissipated like wind, and all Full Frame could hear was the roaring of a waterfall.

“Dozens of times already...”

Hong Biyeon seemed to cry out toward the space before her, but Full Frame wasn’t trying to understand.

Because...

She was too overwhelmingly drowsy.

Eventually, her eyes closed. The last thing she registered was the gentle voices of the two girls, whispering as if tickling her ears.

“We were always...”

“...friends. Don’t forget that.”

She opened her eyes.

It was a classroom.

“What...?”

What was she doing just now?

She distinctly remembered flying somewhere through the sky...

“Full Frame, are you paying attention?”

Looking up, she saw Professor Meizen Tiren glaring down at her from the front of the classroom, his face scrunched in frustration.

“Uh, yes! Yes, I am!”

“So, you’re not paying attention?”

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant!”

Her flustered response drew a few snickers from nearby students.

By the professor’s side, his assistant, Alterisha, fidgeted nervously, her unease apparent.

"Oh, right..."

Time travel.

That much she could recall. Full Frame quickly tried to piece together the situation.

“So... the current timeline is... first semester of the first year?”

It seemed this time travel didn’t work as she had imagined.

Instead of freely maneuvering within the past, separate from her younger self, she had apparently fused with her past body.

“Looks like I’m in Professor Meizen Tiren’s class...”

Meizen Tiren’s class was critical for aspiring alchemists, known for its importance in networking and skill-building. No slacker would dare snooze through his lecture—except her, of course.

“Well, I’m not dreaming of becoming an alchemist anyway...”

Memories gradually aligned in her mind. The reason she was in this class wasn’t for alchemy; it was because of the original romance fantasy plot, Don’t Fall for the Princess. She had come to observe its protagonist, Eisel.

“Speaking of Eisel, what’s she up to?”

Since they’d both attempted the time travel together, was Eisel also fused with her younger self?

Glancing over, Full Frame spotted Eisel, diligently focused on the lecture. Her hand moved swiftly as she jotted down notes without missing a word—a perfect display of the genius Eisel had been at the start of the semester.

“...Is there really a need for that?”

After all, they weren’t ordinary students now. They’d traveled through time and returned to the past. Pretending to listen to the lecture would have sufficed.

“Oh.”

Then she realized something crucial: she’d forgotten someone important.

Baek Yuseol, one year ago.

He had always known far more than anyone else, but now things were different.

“This time, I know more than he does.”

The thought of meeting him in the past filled Full Frame with excitement. She scanned the room, looking for Baek Yuseol.

Surely, he would be attending Professor Meizen’s alchemy lecture to keep an eye on Eisel.

But...

“...Wait, what?”

He wasn’t there.

Baek Yuseol was nowhere to be found.

Panicking, Full Frame grabbed the student sitting closest to her and asked urgently.

“Hey, uh, excuse me... is Baek Yuseol in this class?”

The student frowned, clearly annoyed by the interruption, and replied curtly.

“Baek? Who even has a weird name like that at this school?”

“...What? Baek Yuseol, from Class S. You don’t know him?”

“Nope. Maybe you’re smart enough to slack off in class, but I’m not. Stop distracting me.”

The conversation ended there.

Desperate, Full Frame asked a few more students, but every answer was the same—they didn’t know who Baek Yuseol was.

“What the...”

Her heart sank.

“Full Frame? Full Frame, what are you doing in the middle of class?”

Professor Meizen Tiren’s furious voice thundered, but it didn’t register in her ears.

The time travel had worked.

But something had gone horribly wrong.