Lord School Faction War (7)
Teaching.
It was a profound undertaking—taking the definitions and theorems formulated by scholars devoted purely to academic research and conveying them to those seeking knowledge.
Even basic arithmetic wasn't something anyone was born knowing. You started from utter ignorance and had to be shown the ropes, listening and absorbing step by step. To make even the most fundamental calculations digestible, educators deployed all sorts of methods: counting on fingers, sketching diagrams, layering colors over drawings. In other words, they devised clever ways to help an unpracticed brain absorb information efficiently. That was the true duty of an instructor, an educator tasked with guiding others.
"And now... you want me to do that?"
By its very nature, teaching required the instructor to synthesize that knowledge first. What did they teach at the Academy? What was he supposed to teach here? Magic, obviously.
"I'm barely keeping my own head above water with magic... and you expect me to teach someone else? Seriously?"
They couldn't have picked a worse candidate if they tried. Don't you agree, Professor Muniher?
"Haaah... Professor Muniher has the final say on this anyway, so sending a letter wouldn't change a thing..."
A glance at the clock told him time was running out. Breakfast had arrived late, leaving him zero time to prep. At this rate, forget lesson plans—he'd have to ad-lib the entire lecture. Completely insane.
He was stuck standing in for the professor under the banner of a student teaching intern. A replacement wouldn't be dispatched until this Faction War wrapped up anyway. Whatever. He’d just throw himself into it and do whatever it took to keep them out of Class E!
Students began trickling in one by one. Lana and several others took their seats across the room. Like clockwork, they were here to log their attendance hours and maintain their welfare subsidies. Thanks to that, there wasn't an empty desk in sight—at least for now.
Click.
The door opened, and before long, their rather unconventional instructor arrived.
"..."
Silent gazes converged on a single spot: Junon, clutching an attendance roster and course materials, looking thoroughly bewildered.
"So... I take it everyone's... heard the news?"
His voice lacked any trace of confidence. Tasked with filling the vacant post of a professor, the student intern posed his hesitant question with palpable awkwardness.
No answer came. He was met with dead silence—the absolute dread of any educator. Yet because he was only human, his helpless bewilderment showed plainly in his posture. Seeing that, one student finally spoke up.
"Yes. That a student intern will be teaching us instead of Professor Jirbeng."
The clear voice came right from the front row. It was Lana, the student with the keenest interest in the class.
"Right...? So everyone here knows?"
"Must be. If they didn't know, half of them wouldn't have even bothered showing up."
Fair point. Junon nodded. Even if the rest of the room looked thoroughly indifferent, he hadn't realized how immensely grateful he'd feel just to have one person reply. Not that it washed away his lingering anxiety, of course.
"Well then... you can just casually call me Sunbae. Let's do roll call first. —."
"Here."
"—."
"Present."
Calling out names helped ease the tension, at least a little.
"Lana."
"Here."
With Lana's response, roll call concluded. Now came the moment to begin the lecture in earnest.
But having had no time to prepare, a fresh wall stood before him. Where was he supposed to start? How should he connect the concepts, and in what manner should he deliver them? Thrust onto the podium without a plan, all he could produce was rote, mechanical recitation and empty chalkboard sketches.
"For humans to cast magic, mana is required. This mana originates from the mana circuits located within the body..."
The elementary concept of mana coursing through circuits?
"For mana drawn from the circuits to form magic, a magic circle is generally deployed. Its framework consists of four distinct line types..."
The basic geometric framework needed to construct a circle?
"Channelling mana into the magic circle drawn along these lines..."
The Trinity Table—the standard structure governing mana generation, formula deployment, and circle activation?
"..."
Mid-sentence, Junon abruptly set down his chalk. Silence blanketed the room once more.
Not a single student was paying attention. In fact, none of it was worth paying attention to in the first place. Was there really any point in rehashing textbook drivel like this? Stuff like this was...!
"...Um, Sunbae?"
Lana broke the suffocating quiet. When he didn't answer right away, she opened her mouth to call him again, but—
"Wait here for a bit. I need to make a quick trip to the training grounds."
Dropping his textbooks onto the desk, Junon pushed open the front door and strode briskly out into the hallway.
"Is class over...? Or not?"
"Guess he plans on doing something out there. Sounded like an invitation to meet at the training grounds."
"Isn't this supposed to be a lecture-based theory class, though? Why go outside?"
"...Honestly, if he's just going to spout useless nonsense like earlier, I'd rather catch up on sleep."
"Whatever. I'm not going."
"Same here. After what happened yesterday, who'd want to go outside anyway?"
"Settled, then. We'll just hang out until he comes back. Gotta get our attendance credit stamped, after all."
Interpreting their intern's words however they pleased, not a single one moved to follow. Assuming they wouldn't learn anything useful and that it would just be a waste of time, the consensus was to sit back and kill time. Except for one person, who shoved her chair back and stood up.
"Fine, rot here for the rest of your lives, you blockheads."
"Excuse me? Lana, what the hell kind of curse is that—!"
Slam!
The classroom door shut firmly behind her, never reopening.
Having changed her clothes, the freckled girl sprinted toward the training grounds, clutching her textbooks to her chest. Inside, she screamed in frustration. How could they squander an opportunity like this?!
Idiots...!
What? Sleep? Attendance credit? Scared to step outside after yesterday? They had enrolled in Sirach Lord School with the determination to learn magic again. There was a time when each of them had poured their heart and soul into mastering mana and crafting spells, stitching their efforts together like fine embroidery!
If their plan was truly just manual labor, they wouldn't have come to this school. They'd have slept at home instead. The same went for those claiming they attended just to search for odd jobs. They knew full well this place didn't teach vocational trades like other Lord Schools.
They were all hypocrites. Clinging to the professor in hopes of scraps falling their way. Did they really think life worked like that? What if the professor wasn't interested in feeding them? What if the scraps they complacently waited for turned out to be heavy stones? It was completely pointless. Instead of letting their paths dead-end, they should have been doing everything in their power to claw their way back to Lebrant. By absorbing every scrap of knowledge they could from Junon while he was assigned here.
"What? I told you to wait. Why did you come? Don't tell me everyone came along?"
"...No. Just me."
"Hmm... is that so?"
He didn't look particularly surprised. In fact, his face suggested he hadn't expected anyone at all. Nor did he look like he intended to hold class here.
That's... a ranged magic simulator?
Adjusting the control panel sent an activation signal, projecting ranged magic circles that hurled spells at the challenger. The exercise ended automatically once the challenger parried the attacks until the crystal orb at the far end drained its mana, or if they were knocked off the ring. Thus, a student's primary training here was to withstand, counter, or intercept the barrage of magic. And yet...
"Just how many... did you input...?"
The indicator lights on the console signaled intensity. The number of lights indicated the quantity of magic circles, while the size of the lights signified their output. But the display currently illuminated on the console was far beyond anything meant to be parried or intercepted.
It has to be an accident... Nobody can endure an hour of that on the ring with their bare body!
The number of magic circles was set to the absolute maximum. Judging by the size of the illumination, the spells fired would be comparable to what a C-rank caster or higher would unleash. Even the duration was set to a full hour. No one could survive an onslaught like that.
"This is wrong! An entire hour...?! Stop this immediately and get down from there!"
"I can't teach theory," Junon called down calmly. "I don't know how to deliver sleek, eloquent explanations like a real professor. So just wait there a bit."
"What...? What are you even talking about out of nowhere?!"
Fsssh—!
A C-rank lightning spell: Bishmar, the Fifth Lightning Spear of Astaroth, cut through the air. Not just one, but two spears bore down on him from left and right. It was an inescapable pincer maneuver, yet—
Bzzzz-crack! Zzzzz-tchk!
Junon caught both lightning spears dead-on without missing a beat. Within his grasp, their electric charge fizzled out before the spears shattered into nothingness.
"...Huh?"
To put it bluntly, she had never seen anything like this in her life. She had witnessed him analyze patterns, weaknesses, and traits to take down Stumps, but to literally pulverize magic itself?
Electric magic... no, do lightning spears have structural weaknesses too...?
While Lana stood frozen in disbelief, a Wind Blast crashed down toward the crown of Junon's head. The howling squall descended with vicious intensity, but just like the lightning spears before it, its gale pressure dissolved into nothing, dispersing harmlessly.
"..."
Now it wasn't just lightning spears. Spells of every shape and element flooded the arena in rapid succession, yet not a single one avoided the exact same fate. It was an utterly bizarre spectacle. It looked as if he was literally breaking the manifested magic apart.
That was precisely what he was doing. Amidst the torrential bombardment, he advanced at an unhurried pace, crushing spell after spell in his wake. This wasn't mere practice. By all accounts, he was dead serious.
Waiting out the clock until the mana depleted? Parrying to shave off time? The way this man breached the barrage defied every established textbook rule. Nor did he show the slightest inclination to step off the ring. Then what plan was she actually witnessing?
"He's... just breaking through..."
Not a war of attrition using high mobility. Not tactical evasion. He was piercing straight through the bombardment, and at a leisurely, measured walk at that. Dozens of spells crashed into his path, yet not a single one left so much as a scratch on him. Rather than sprinting as he had when dealing with the Stumps, he simply walked forward, his back radiating calm composure.
And then—
"All right. That should just about do it."
The moment he shifted into full gear, weaving through the remaining spells in a blinding dash, he reached the crystal orb in less than a minute. As soon as his hand touched the device powering the bombardment, the mana-infused glow died out, reverting to dormant stone.
"Mm, that's that. Now I can go explain it."
A method no one had ever attempted, and one no one thought could ever succeed. Having completed his breakthrough, Junon rolled his stiff shoulders, looking utterly nonchalant.
"Um... what kind of person are you, really...?"
"Hm? Me? Just a Lebrant Academy student."
"..."
He was far too casual about it. Watching him finish the trial in such a bizarre fashion without the slightest awareness of how absurd it was, she felt something bordering on awe.
"Anyway, I told you to wait. Why'd you come out here? Head back to the classroom. I'll explain the rest once we're back."
"O-okay..."
Lana nodded numbly and began trailing back toward the lecture hall.
That question... I never should have asked it.
The words she had blurted out when he handed her that briar branch: 'Can I become like you?'
Looking back now, that was a question she never should have dared to ask. That man... moved in a completely different dimension.