Field Training (4)
Adolf trudged down the dark forest path back toward the academy.
It was a distance he could have flown in an instant if he wanted, but perhaps because of his age, he chose to walk—for the sake of his health, at least.
Why not try walking without the aid of mana, relying purely on his own body's strength?
And moments later, Adolf regretted that choice.
"…So little time remains, after all."
He could feel the strength draining from his steps.
In his youth, he had run wild through far harsher mountains without tiring, staying up for dozens of sleepless nights with nothing but nosebleeds to show for it.
Now, just navigating a slightly uneven forest trail left his legs aching, his knees throbbing, and his breath coming in gasps.
Nothing in the world lasts forever.
Even the legendary founding hero party that split heaven and earth had long since returned to a handful of dust.
No matter how high one climbed toward the sky.
No matter how one looked down upon all others from the pinnacle.
Everything in the world has an end.
Mortals.
How sad, how cruel a word.
Some say that very transience is humanity's brilliant potential, its beauty—but who decided that?
Adolf was no fool to be swayed by such honeyed lies invented to flee the terror of death.
At least, that's what he told himself.
"Iruka."
He murmured the name of the girl blessed with immense talent.
How shocked he had been the first time he saw her.
To find a child like gleaming gold in some backwater village with nothing to its name.
And that had been his mistake.
"I should have hidden her away back then."
Bringing her to the academy to win her over had been his one and only error.
Iruka seemed to have no interest in studies; the moment she arrived, she began displaying extreme lethargy.
'Come with me.'
'…No, I wanna sleep more.'
…No, she had always been like that, really.
From the moment he brought her to the academy and exposed her to the world, Iruka became someone even he, the vice-director, couldn't handle recklessly.
She wasn't yet strong enough to reach his toes, but once she could wield that vast mana like an ocean at will, nothing would be more terrifying.
"Cough. Haah… Even my blood isn't red anymore."
Adolf spat blood.
He had been taught since childhood that blood was red, yet his was an inky black.
As if scooping up the abyss itself in his hand—a sight that, in his prime, would have filled him with despair at time's cruelty and the approaching death.
But Adolf smiled with ecstatic glee.
"…I must admit, the empire has an eye for talent."
He thought of Otto Becker—the weakling whose circle level couldn't even be gauged, the 'teacher' who had stood in his way.
No, he had no interest in the teacher himself.
What had caught Adolf's attention was the magic circle floating in the man's hand.
"Iruka, you've gone and given your heart to him, poor thing."
A clear trace of Iruka—something no teacher of that caliber could possibly handle.
To manipulate someone else's mana to forge an entirely new magical framework… The moment he saw it, chills ran down his spine, shocking even this aged body.
A vast conceptual world like a blue sea rising in his mind at a glance.
The magic likely had the effect of purging all impurities from the world.
Adolf grasped its nature with one look.
Iruka had never given her heart to anyone, so this was proof she had given it to her teacher—though not romantic affection, but fondness, or perhaps nostalgia for that village woman.
"I can use this."
Adolf grinned wickedly, letting the blood on his hand scatter in the wind.
He had been putting off direct confrontation with the brat, thinking his frail body couldn't endure it, saving it as a last resort—but now, at the very last moment, he saw an opening.
"Time to prepare for a delightful fight after so long."
Under the moonlight, lips curling into a smile, Adolf headed for the new school building.
And in the forest after he left, three women revealed themselves atop the trees.
"…M-My heart was about to burst…!"
"How was it, Lady Abel?"
Abel stared down the path Adolf had taken.
"Ah, so pitiful, so pathetic."
He had once been called a war hero.
The mage who crushed the monster hordes rampaging from the north, slew a demon noble at quasi-demon lord level, and made his mark on the world.
But even that mage couldn't escape the ravages of time, it seemed.
"If he hadn't even noticed our level of tailing, that would have been the end of the story."
"…I risked my life to leak a bit of killing intent, but he didn't notice."
"I don't know the exact method, but it seems he's scheming something using Iruka and the teacher. Heh. That's perfect."
The hero's fangs were gone; he had fallen into decline, grown feeble.
To the point where his past glory was hard to glimpse anymore.
"I can make good use of him."
Abel's ruby-red eyes gleamed under the moonlight.
"Then we'll head back. Hrun, Surz. Return to your posts."
"U-Um. What about the plan?"
"No need. The timing's already set."
"T-Timing?"
Ignoring Hrun's dazed question, Abel headed for the old school building.
Even Adolf couldn't touch Iruka directly within the academy grounds.
This was the domain of that monstrous academy director, and the current Adolf couldn't take on the entire faculty.
So the timing was fixed.
A place outside the director's domain, where he could fight fewer teachers—or none at all.
That would likely be the day she gained two new slaves.
It had been some time since I arrived at the academy.
Aside from the existence of magic, it often felt like a vacation in a forest cabin, but events like this reminded me it was another world.
"Caw."
Like the crow delivering a letter to me right now.
Sure, messenger animals existed in my past life too, but none would use their beak to open the window and rub the letter on my sleeping face.
"Yeah, good to see you too."
I'd always liked animals, even in my past life, so I stroked the crow's beak and took the letter it held.
More precisely, I unrolled the scroll-like official document, rubbing my sleepy eyes as I read the contents.
…Was it because I was woken unexpectedly?
Or because the document's contents were hot enough to make my head throb?
Gripping my aching head, I opened my bag, stamped the document, and tied it securely to the crow's ankle.
"Caaaaw!"
The crow flew off happily through the window.
Hadn't they taught it to close the window it opened on its own? Or did it just not care?
I scratched the back of my neck and shut the window myself.
"…Field training, huh."
I narrowed my eyes.
The academy was, of course, an educational institution, offering various classes for student growth.
Among them, 'practical training' including field exercises was the simplest way to evaluate growth, but among teachers, it was known as a pain.
'Controlling a bunch of kids in their prime? Good luck with that.'
It was the same in my past life, but here, kids could chop logs with a flick of the wrist if they wanted—this was a crazy world.
Naturally, field training sites were matched to that level.
"Thanks for gathering, everyone."
"Pfft… You threatened demerits if we didn't show, right?♡"
"Even without that, skipping this training means demerit expulsion anyway. No difference."
"…Right. Thanks for the heads-up, Teacher!"
"Sure."
I had no choice in this. If I didn't drag them, they'd get expelled on their own.
Sure, it looked sweet for me, but if I didn't warn them and they killed me over it? Abel or Rise could do it on a whim—they were dangerous like that.
I explained the field training overview.
"As you know, you're all in disciplinary lockdown with demerits right at expulsion level. So you need at least a D this time."
"What's the exact criteria for D?"
"Good question. Abel."
The first question in class nearly brought tears to my eyes—until I saw it was from Abel, then they dried up.
I wrote examples on the blackboard.
"Show some effort, and D is guaranteed. Last year, catching just one monster got you a D—not sure about this year."
"One? Piece of cake. Catch one and chill?"
"…Annoying. Just one, right?"
"Ooh…! Killing is so pointless. Even monsters—no need for a massacre!!"
The kids were already planning to slack off.
I wasn't expecting more than D from them anyway, so I nodded.
"But evaluations are fluid, so listen to the on-site teacher properly."
That wrapped up class.
As I turned to leave, I remembered something I'd forgotten and came back.
"Forget something?"
"Nah, just forgot to mention something. Besides individual scores, there's a class score. Top class gets various benefits."
"Like what?"
"Hehe~ Money would be nice."
"Spot on, Riko."
"…Huh?"
The kids looked up.
…Their eyes seemed a bit scary. I swallowed and continued.
"One million gold, usable at the academy shopping district. That's the team reward."
One million gold might not ring a bell—about ten million won in Korean terms.
You might think it's too much for students, but forget: most academy kids are filthy rich.
Princes, nobles, merchant heirs.
To them, a million gold was pocket change—especially split among a class of twenty. Take it or leave it.
But not for my kids, apparently.
"…Annoying."
"Hmph. You think I'd move for mere money?"
"Hehe, that's a lot."
Iruka, Serath, Abel—lazy or indifferent.
"…Heh."
"Lord! I shall offer tribute in your name!!!"
"Guess I'll try a bit."
Rise, Hakan, Riko—gearing up.
Hey, Riko, that's not your vibe.
…Should be fine.
Fine… right?