Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.11 – The Knight Hates Spellcasters (1)
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Fundamentally, the instructors working at the Royal Academy were busy.
Not just with lesson preparation, but also with a considerable amount of paperwork that had to be submitted.
Everything from lesson plans to budget allocations and work-related reports.
Even letters of understanding to instructors from other subjects to ensure smooth classes later on.
Some might call it pointless, but these little courtesies were what built smooth relationships.
In reality, academy instructors spent their entire days at their desks handling work as a daily routine.
However.
"Damn it! Hell! Goddamn it!"
A man who wasn't an instructor was sitting at a desk, diligently working through paperwork.
Damian Pollet.
That was the name of the man who was Lee Han's three-year limited teaching assistant—and currently handling Lee Han's paperwork in his stead.
'That bastard instructor!'
Damian, who had lived a life far removed from profanity as a noble's son, had now started swearing constantly after more than a week of nothing but paperwork.
Just looking at the dark shadows under his eyes made it clear how much stress and fatigue he was under.
...In truth, he was exhausted.
He hadn't even remembered to use the dorms in over a week.
'Dorms? What's that? Does the academy even have those?'
—Nonsense like that was spilling from his mouth on its own.
He'd originally been a dorm student, but now he was using the instructors' lounge far more often.
One might question how he didn't even have time to go back to the dorms despite all the paperwork, but there was no helping it.
During the day, he had to cover general education and required courses outside the Swordsmanship Department, and after those lectures, he had to attend to the instructor—not just attend, either.
—You need training too. What are you doing pretending to be uninvolved?
The instructor tormented him under the guise of training, already treating him like a ball being batted around.
So Damian ended up both attending to duties and training, and even when lectures finally ended...
—Should I do this? You're the teaching assistant; you handle it.
Piles of paperwork were shoved in front of him.
Damian considered rebelling, but he backed down upon meeting the instructor's gaze.
He felt like he'd be beaten to death if he didn't comply.
Before long, handling the instructor's paperwork had become his routine, and in the process of resolving tasks from other lectures, any time spent returning to the dorms felt like a waste.
At some point, Damian had practically started living in the instructors' lounge, becoming something like a restless spirit haunting the place.
At first, people had been startled to see him set up camp there, but now no one among the instructors paid him any mind.
"Ho, even the Swordsmanship Department instructors are impressive—they've already got themselves a 'teaching assistant.'"
"Heh, it's amazing every year. I wonder when that assistant will drop out?"
"Mm, probably before the semester's over?"
It was already a familiar sight to all the instructors.
The sight of a teaching assistant setting up house in the lounge and working.
Damian felt a chill run down his spine.
He'd heard there were plenty of seniors who'd successfully escaped (dropped out), but that was impossible for him.
Three years.
He was a lifelong slave—no, a teaching assistant—for three years.
"Goddamn it..."
He spat out another curse, his eyes growing misty.
"—Why the hell did Damian Pollet end up like that?"
A cadet with dull gray hair peeked into the instructors' room and blinked.
This wasn't a 'scheduled chapter.'
Damian Pollet wasn't supposed to be doing that.
"Why is Irene Windler's follower doing teaching assistant work instead?"
The gray-haired cadet thought.
Something was wrong.
This wasn't the planned story.
Something had gone awry.
"Why? Where did it go wrong...?"
The gray-haired cadet kept pondering, and then...
"Cadet, what are you doing there?"
"Y-Yes?!"
"...
You were muttering to yourself nonstop. Is something wrong?"
"N-No."
"Really? Ah! Are you here because you're interested in being a teaching assistant? If so, I recommend our History Department assistant position! It's a rewarding department where new study materials pop up every year!"
"Ah, no, wait..."
"Come on! Let's chat about the great points of the History Department!"
"Uh..."
The gray-haired cadet seemed to have some communication issues, and he'd unfortunately run into a History Department professor whose enthusiasm bordered on madness.
A week since the semester truly began.
A short time, but for some, it could feel intensely dense.
In that sense, Lee Han was confident that his week in the Swordsmanship Department had been denser than any other department.
'I didn't know teaching kids would be this tough.'
The moment he started respecting his teachers from his past life.
Ah, some teachers were exceptions.
Assholes who didn't even deserve the name.
"...I'd have killed them all if I'd met them now."
"S-Sir Turtle."
"Huh?"
"...Your muttering might be a bit too loud."
"......Ah."
Only then did Lee Han remember he was at an instructors' meeting.
A few people had heard his grumbling and were staring at him with trembling pupils.
'...I'm officially the outcast now.'
Humbly acknowledging his mistake, Lee Han let out a groan.
He hadn't meant to.
Lee Han decided to make an excuse.
"...I didn't mean 'kill' like that. I just remembered some utterly inhuman people."
"I-I see."
"It's true."
"Y-Yes..."
"......"
They clearly didn't believe him.
It was a fairly large conference room, packed with lecturers, professors, and instructors.
A total of 112 people.
Including the dean passionately giving his speech up there, that made 113.
"—Esteemed instructors. I am grateful for all of you. It is because of excellent talents like you that we produce excellent cadets, and excellent cadets must become great treasures that support the nation. Ah, speaking of treasures, it reminds me of my time in the Prime Minister's office..."
That guy seems to be in another world.
He said it was just a greeting, but he's been at it for an hour already.
'Didn't he just say that line a minute ago?'
He felt an odd sense of déjà vu from the looping words, but Lee Han brushed it off with one ear and turned to the instructor who had spoken to him.
"Um, is the meeting always like this?"
"...Well, it basically just consists of listening to the dean. Suggestions and such go to the vice dean."
The nameless instructor still looked frightened, but fortunately, he was a good person who answered sincerely even to Lee Han.
"Then can I just leave?"
"Mm, professors at that level don't have to come. They have so much research that the dean understands. But for anyone else, it's best to show up."
"Why's that?"
"The dean's a former prime minister. Still a sharp, active one at that."
"...Ah."
Lee Han got it.
Who in their right mind would risk offending a former top-five power broker in the kingdom?
...But there was someone who'd pissed him off at the entrance ceremony.
'Me?'
Hmm...
"Haha, don't worry too much. The dean doesn't sweat the small stuff."
"I threw a lectern at him."
"...Not to badmouth him, but incidents like that happen once every three years. Meaning, minor mishaps now and then."
"......"
...So there were predecessors.
A inexplicable sense of kinship brought a warm smile to his face.
Indeed, when you get pissed enough to hurl something, it's similar everywhere.
I wasn't the only one.
"...Still, be careful next time. I had to remake that lectern."
"Oh, really? Thanks. Um... may I have your name?"
"Hans Schmidt. Swordsmanship Department instructor and deputy head of the Smithing Guild."
"Impressive."
"Haha, it's nothing."
Nothing at all.
Hans was a common name, but you couldn't underestimate it.
Deputy head of the Smithing Guild meant top-tier craftsman at minimum.
To those who wielded blades, he was a vital connection to build.
This academy was damn entertaining.
'Sitting next to a top blacksmith. Jackpot.'
Like having Jang Yeong-sil as a coworker.
Lee Han chuckled lightly at the situation.
"Do you know any glass craftsmen? My house is short on tableware lately; I need something sturdy."
"...You're an unusual one. Knights usually ask me for swords first."
"A sword's a sword. As long as it cuts well and holds up, that's it. Wasteful to use fancy ones and lose or break them."
"......Truly unusual. Heh."
He stood out from the usual loud types always demanding custom swords.
This left a good impression on Hans, who thought Lee Han wasn't as violent as he seemed.
"So, will you introduce me to a glass craftsman?"
"...Buy me a meal sometime. Then I'll make the intro."
"Deal."
Lee Han and Hans lightly bumped fists.
Lee Han had successfully networked, and then.
"By the way, Instructor Hans. I have something I'm curious about right now—mind if I ask?"
"Go ahead."
"Who's that person who's been glaring at me?"
Lee Han asked politely, smile intact.
Hans gave a wry smile.
He'd checked the face Lee Han indicated.
"...Mm. You haven't done anything to offend them, have you?"
"No, first time meeting today."
"......Then you'd best avoid them."
"Why?"
"That person is..."
After hearing Hans's explanation.
"...I see."
A cold sneer curled on Lee Han's lips, and he pinched his nose with one hand.
'No wonder. There's been this nauseating stench nearby.'
—Ha.
A spellcaster was here.