Internet Mage Professor-Chapter 46: Granfire’s moments

A heavy silence hung over the entire coliseum, thick and electric.

Not a word, not a whisper—only the low hum of magical containment fields around the creature beyond the curtain, and the sound of a young student staring it down as if it were just a smudge on a classroom window.

And then—

"Ha—ah!"

The sudden burst of sound made everyone flinch.

Granfire stood, clapping a hand to his mouth like he’d just heard the punchline to the universe’s most absurd joke. His shoulders began to shake.

A huff escaped, then another, and before long, he couldn’t stop. "Ha-ha! HA—HA—HA—HA!"

People stared. Heads turned. Even the nearby Mana Instructors watched with confusion as Granfire pointed to the arena below, voice booming with theatrical disbelief.

"The goal... the goal for my students was just to stand, correct? To stand and face that challenge in the curtain without fainting or fleeing, yes?"

He threw the question toward the elevated stands of the judges’ gallery, his voice echoing with mock innocence. "Does that mean—my students passed?"

All eyes turned to Principal Duldor, still standing at the side of the arena, the folds of his robe rustling as he adjusted himself. His eyes trailed slowly to the right—where the Chief of the Black Vale Mana Knights had risen from his seat.

A beat passed.

The Chief gave a slow, measured nod.

Duldor nodded in return.

Gasps. Murmurs. Whispers.

Granfire’s grin widened. He turned toward Nolan—who had frozen in place, his eyes twitching as if reality was short-circuiting around him.

But there was a single thought on Nolan’s mind: What the fuck?

Granfire didn’t even need to speak. His eyes alone—gleaming, victorious, and laced with vindictive delight—screamed a thousand smug insults. However, he tried to but he was enjoying the look on Nolan’s face.

He leaned forward, his cloak fluttering slightly from his movement, and with the smuggest smirk ever plastered on a human face, he whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Oh Nolan, my dear colleague... the look on your face is priceless."

And then, he roared with laughter.

Not a chuckle. Not a proud snort. It was laughter that belonged to a man who had been buried in humiliation just the day before and had now crawled out of the grave to flip off his gravedigger.

He grabbed the railing and doubled over. "Haaa—haha—HA—HA—HA—HA!!"

Meanwhile, Nolan stood frozen, every mocking laugh from Granfire pounding against his skull. His jaw was slack, his tongue dry, his heart pounding somewhere in his shoes. It was all so familiar.

He had done this. He had laughed like this yesterday when Granfire turned tail as he scurried himself to get out of that very same classroom. But now—

Now the ghost of Granfire’s humiliation seemed to have returned in full Technicolor glory and had brought backup.

On the other hand, Granfire was as in his moment of glory, yesterday I lost, Granfire thought, grinning so wide it hurt.

Yesterday, I was trembling. Yesterday, I pissed myself in fear while Nolan’s monsters grinned in the dark. I lost the bet. I lost my dignity.

But today? Today was different.

Because today, Nolan had initiated the challenge.

Today, Nolan had stood righteous and pompous with his big words and bigger grin.

And he lost.

Granfire could barely contain the glee pulsing through every inch of his body. It was like sweet, bubbling wine served on a plate of divine retribution. He clutched his belly, still laughing as he wiped fake tears from the corners of his eyes.

Then suddenly—

"HAHAHAHAHA—HA—HA—HA—HA—HAHAHA!!"

It came from Nolan.

Everyone turned again.

Nolan was laughing. A strange, choked, unhinged sort of laughter. Loud and staccato. Like a man trying to pretend he was still in control, while his entire sense of self caved in from the inside.

"HAHAHA! Of course! Hah—hah—hah! What a surprise, right?! Who would’ve guessed!? HA—HA!" he barked, his hands flailing slightly, eyes darting to anyone who might laugh along with him. No one did. Everyone was staring at him.

Even the student in the arena.

"Teacher Granfire!" the student suddenly shouted from below. "We made it!"

The boy was grinning from ear to ear, pumping his fists like a champion.

Granfire placed both hands on the rail and looked down, nodding with pride. "Yes! You made it!" he called back, voice cracking with genuine warmth. "Our training paid off!"

For a moment, everything seemed to quiet again. The cheers paused. The magic around the arena dimmed. It was just Granfire and his student, smiling like they shared a secret only they could understand.

But then Granfire turned.

He turned slowly—too slowly—and his eyes locked onto Nolan again.

"And that," he said, tone shifting with perfect control, "was thanks to Teacher Nolan."

The words were said with a smile, but that smile dripped with a sweetness so artificial, it was practically a blade.

Nolan’s brow twitched. Wait—what?

The crowd murmured again, confused.

Nolan stared at Granfire, dumbfounded again. His mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to protest, but all that came out was a breathless, "Huh?"

Did... did Granfire just thank him?

It sounded like gratitude, but it felt like mockery. But he felt like it landed like a slap to the face.

Granfire took a single step forward, raising his voice now with open theatricality. "Yes, thank you, Nolan!" he declared with a sudden dramatic boom. "Because without your... generous assistance yesterday, we would’ve never come this far."

Nolan’s face twitched. What in the thirteen demon realms was this man talking about?

Granfire threw out his arms like a performer on stage, eyes misting, voice cracking.

"Yesterday, when you showed us that fake undead monstrosity—yes, that one—you terrified us. It scared us to our very bones! I nearly fainted! My students? They couldn’t sleep for hours!" he clutched his chest, eyes trembling with faux sorrow. "We were devastated. Shaken. Humiliated."

The teachers and students looked around at each other. A few even frowned, concerned.

Granfire sniffled. "But that fear... that was the turning point. That is when we decided—we will not be looked down upon. Not again. Not ever!"

He grabbed a handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbed his eyes. "So we trained. We trained day and night. We fought illusions in our dreams. We simulated undead attacks until our legs gave out. We sprinted up mountains, carried boulders soaked in mana, took our spellcasting to the limit—some of us even vomited!"

The audience gasped. A few students actually clapped.

Nolan was blinking furiously. What the hell is going on? What the hell is he saying? That’s impossible! This guy is shameless.

Granfire pressed his hand to his heart. "There were tears! There were blisters! There were days I wanted to give up! But I couldn’t! I wouldn’t! Because I remembered your face, Nolan—your smug, smiling face—and I swore on that day: never again!"

Nolan felt like Granfire was indeed shameless, you just said yesterday and now you sayb for days?

By now, Granfire was pacing like a motivational speaker, tears flowing freely, his voice reaching toward the heavens. "And now look at them! My students! My precious class—they stood tall! They are ready to face that creature and call it ugly!"

Laughter. Applause.

"And so, I thank you, Nolan! From the bottom of my scorched and reformed heart. You have forged us. Molded us. Whipped us into shape with the cruel sting of shame and terror!"

The applause grew louder.

But every pair of eyes was now on Nolan.

Every eye.

Watching.

Waiting.

Judging.

And Nolan... had nothing to say.

He stood there, red-faced, twitching, lips parted and dry. For the first time in years, the man who prided himself on always having a comeback, always having control, stood speechless. Absolutely, devastatingly speechless.

And in the silence of his defeat, only one thought echoed in his mind—

Why... does it feel like he’s thanking me and insulting me at the same time?