Attendance… plz…)
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In the A Certain Magical Index universe, one of the three great pillars of world-building alongside Fate, there was a man named Aleister Crowley. That man used his personal philosophy to influence two-thirds of the world's magicians.
So, why couldn't Rimuru do the same?
Seven years from now, the mainstream world of magecraft would still be ruled by the Lords and the Brand-ranked elite at the top of the pyramid. But the pillars holding them up? The backbone of the Association?
It would be these kids.
These currently tender, inexperienced students whose philosophies were still malleable.
An ordinary merchant focuses on the present, catering to the customer in front of them. A great merchant looks at the next era, predicting how user habits will change in ten years.
But a legendary merchant? They change the customers' habits themselves. They force the market to adapt to their way of thinking.
That was why Rimuru was working himself to the bone, taking professorships in every department he could. He wanted to maximize his exposure. He didn't need every student to like him. He just needed every student to know that he existed, and that he was an option.
His teaching style wasn't for everyone. He knew that. But it didn't have to be. As long as the students who resonated with his methods could find him, that was enough.
In the future, Rimuru believed this network of "modern-thinking" students would become a force to be reckoned with.
Usually, when he finished a lecture and headed back to the faculty lounge, a gaggle of eager students would trail behind him, hoping for a few extra scraps of wisdom. But today…
"Hm? That's strange. No entourage?"
Rimuru stepped out of the classroom and paused. The hallway was empty. For a split second, he was confused. Then, realization dawned. There was only one reason the students would scatter like roaches when the lights came on.
"Teacher!!"
A joyous shout echoed down the corridor.
A small silver blur wearing a black gothic coat came barrelling toward him.
"I knew it…" Rimuru chuckled, opening his arms just in time to catch the projectile.
Thump.
Erol slammed into his chest, nuzzling her head against him like a puppy who had been left alone for too long.
Ever since Rimuru's schedule had packed up with lectures and networking, his time with Erol had taken a hit. The kid used to cause trouble because her high witch bloodline gave her too much energy and she couldn't stand being lonely. When Rimuru had come along with infinite patience and free time, she had latched onto him. Even the solitary confinement incident hadn't scared her off; if anything, she was clingier now.
It made May insanely jealous, though she had to admit that Rimuru's gentle temperament was essentially catnip for children.
But now that he was "Professor Rimuru," aiming for maximum influence and juggling a dozen titles, Erol was suffering from withdrawal.
Until she started the "Great Erol Adventure."
One day, while searching for her teacher, she wandered into the main lecture halls of the Clock Tower… and discovered a paradise.
Thanks to the combined prestige of the Archelot and Tempest names, no professor dared stop her. In fact, they practically rolled out the red carpet, pointing her directly to Rimuru's lounge.
And once she got there? She found a whole flock of students, weaklings, really, compared to her raw power, who were desperate to entertain her.
Thus, the reign of the Demon King Erol began.
At first, the bullied freshmen tried to complain to the upperclassmen. But the moment the seniors found out this was Rimuru's personal disciple? The dynamic shifted instantly.
They spoiled her rotten. They treated her like a princess, hoping that if they kept her happy, she might put in a good word for them with the Professor. Becoming Rimuru's research assistant was a coveted position, after all.
Did people think the Clock Tower was full of socially awkward bookworms who only cared about "Truth"?
Please.
The Clock Tower was a viper's nest of noble families, bloodline discrimination, and factional politics. The higher the year, the more the students understood the greasy wheels of magus society.
Magi were people too. Politics was universal.
This was exactly why Rimuru felt right at home. His sociology degree wasn't wasted, was it?
Today, however, Erol wasn't being escorted by a sycophantic senior.
May stood down the hall, watching the reunion with a mix of amusement and resignation.
"I didn't have classes today, so I thought I'd spend some time with her," May explained, walking over. "But she insisted on finding you."
"Is that right?" Rimuru laughed, poking Erol's cheek. "I doubt she's here for me. She probably just wants to go bully my students again."
"I do not!" Erol raised a tiny fist in protest. "I don't bully them! It's not my fault they're so slow. They can't even understand your super-simplified trait theories…"
"You say that like you understand them," Rimuru teased, tapping her forehead.
"I do understand them!"
Erol looked genuinely offended. She wiggled out of his arms, pouting. "Waaah! Teacher thinks I'm stupid! Uuuuu!"
"…" Rimuru blinked, looking at the genuinely aggrieved child. "Wait. You actually understand it?"
"She does," May confirmed, smiling at the duo. "Her witch blood is potent, and her natural talent is off the charts. To her, the Foundation Course material is basically baby talk."
"Baby talk…?"
Rimuru felt his brain stall.
If the Clock Tower was a university, the five-year General Foundation course was the equivalent of cramming everything from middle school to high school into a magical curriculum. The theory on Trait Transformation he had just lectured on? That was easily college-level calculus for mages.
And this five-year-old got it?
Is she a genius? No, she's a monster.
"Is it that strange? Witches and Phantasmal Species inherit knowledge through their bloodlines," May said casually. "When you were sent to my house at age four, you were already casting elementary spells freely."
She smirked. "Compared to you, Erol is actually a bit behind. She can still only do Mana Bursts."
Only Mana Bursts? Rimuru retorted internally. Artoria Pendragon conquered Britain by spamming Mana Burst. It's not exactly a weak skill.
Rimuru looked down at Erol, who was kicking her legs in the air, looking smug again. A thought suddenly crossed his mind.
"Wait. If that's the case…" Rimuru murmured, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Erol… does that mean you're ready to attend classes with the other students?"
Erol froze mid-kick.
Her smug expression cracked, replaced by the sheer horror of a child realizing they had just played themselves.
"...Eh?!"
….
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