The Iron Man's Lecture

Sneaking out just in case they really dropped by the hidden room had clearly been the right call.

Whoa. That was a hair's breadth away from getting caught in a lie!

After telling her I waited there every day, imagine how betrayed Hestia would have felt if I hadn't been around the very day she showed up. To make matters worse, Zhuang had tagged along. The entire house of cards—that we had actually attended fifth period together and that the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠person Hestia spoke with wasn't even me—would have tumbled down in one disastrous chain reaction. Fortunately, I managed to safely avert the flag that would have sent Hestia spiraling down a villainous arc.

"Now I understand why Master praised this academy so much, saying every assassin must attend at least once. Just how strong can an assassin become after graduating from a place like this...?"

"I dread the future when we become second-years."

The light had completely died in Zhuang and Hestia's hollow, sunken eyes, but surely that was just because they'd stayed up so late!

"You two can hang out here by yourselves often from now on!" I chirped.

"Aren't you coming, Orknodi?"

"Because I already memorized it all!"

Hestia looked around at the paper strips filling the room. Across the chamber on the opposite wall, the serial numbers inscribed on the slips climbed well into the thousands.

"Orknodi, you're really smart, aren't you?"

"She's the top student. Of course she is."

"Phew. I guess our only choice is to take them with us and memorize them outside."

I immediately waved my hands in refusal.

"Ah, no can do. If you try to take the strips outside this secret room, they self-combust and turn to ash on their own."

Your only choices were to trigger a successful in-game memorization check through sheer stats or brute-force ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠commit them to memory with your actual, real-world player brain.

"Sleep-deprivation training was the one drill I hated most back during my apprenticeship..."

"Looks like we won't be getting any sleep at night for a while..."

Thanks to dropping by the Room of Double-Sided Paper Strips at dawn to fake my alibi, I had pulled off the deception without a hitch. Seeing their dark, vacant eyes out on Professor Plato's open-air training ground, it was obvious that pulling an all-nighter cramming had left them without an ounce of mental energy to spare for suspicion.

Wait, wasn't Professor Plato's second lecture originally held up on the mountain as well?

Thursday, first period. Professor Plato, who was supposed to be thoroughly wrecking the students' lower bodies first thing on a crisp morning with his Upper Class Physical Training course, had somehow marched everyone down to the riverbank bordering the mountain instead.

The students cheered, whispering among themselves that the brutal regime had perhaps been swapped for a light jog, but Professor Plato was never that kind of man.

'More than half the students walked back on their own two feet? Truly, my instruction was lacking!'

If the students ever gritted their teeth, built up their endurance, and weathered his lecture with ease, he would blame himself as though he had committed an unforgivable sin. And naturally, the following lecture would morph into an atrocious, soul-crushing threshing machine of stamina where not a single soul would be allowed to finish standing.

A lecture from a professor like that turning into a mere jog? Not a chance in hell.

Sure enough, the moment we reached the river, Professor Plato bared his true fangs.

"Now then! Have you all rested sufficiently?"

"...Professor. We arrived here thirty seconds ago."

"What does that have to do with rest?! Did you not already loosen up your bodies with a brisk jog?!"

"……!!"

Horner, the lancer hailing from House Fried Chicken, let out a mournful sigh like a tragic hero sensing his impending doom. Deep shadows of dread fell across the faces of every Upper Class student, regardless of whether they hailed from the Outskirts or the Empire. Yet considering the grim fate that awaited them, calling mere dread "deep" felt like a gross understatement.

"First, allow me to ask! Have any of you ever heard the term 'Ironman Triathlon'?!"

Arcadia raised her hand hesitantly.

"It is the proud cultural heritage of our Florence Kingdom, competing across swimming, horsemanship, and running."

"You are half right! Provided one can truly call it 'culture' when a kingdom mashes together whatever it borrows from other lands and claims it as its own!"

"……"

"Fret not! I happen to be someone who considers that culture! Those who sneered just now will each be penalized five Points! Learn to respect the motherland of the professor instructing your class!"

The Imperial Upper Class students who had just been snickering at Arcadia wore expressions as though they'd swallowed raw sewage. The Florence Kingdom was notoriously rootless; despite being a maritime nation, it possessed so little notable talent that mentioning you were from Florence usually earned the sneer: "Oh, that place that gets plundered by pirates whenever they're bored?"

Who would have thought that a madman professor—so obsessed with a sound mind dwelling in a sound body that he had bound his very ego into an indestructible muscular statue—hailed from such a realm!

"Hehe."

Arcadia visibly perked up, thoroughly pleased with herself. From now on, she could proudly boast that Florence was the birthplace of Professor Plato.

Can you really brag about that...?

Watching from beside her, I tilted my head in doubt, but there was no need to pour cold water on her when she was so happy. Not when a freezing deluge was about to drench everyone whether they liked it or not.

"In truth, the Ironman Triathlon is a comprehensive training course I developed before joining the academy, stitching together every worthwhile discipline in pursuit of becoming a true ironman!"

"Originally, I intended to have you run and run alone for an entire month so that you might master at least one discipline thoroughly! However, upon witnessing your performance in the previous lecture, I was profoundly moved and changed my mind!"

"When one out of every five students is capable of wringing their physical stamina to its absolute limit, how could I possibly confine you to mere ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠running?!"

One in five? Given that the Upper Class had just over forty students, that meant eight or more had passed the previous lecture's hell run. That was a figure that should never have been possible in normal play. Just as I was wondering how on earth that had happened, I caught sight of Son Ocheon snorting proudly through his flared nostrils ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Dorothy beaming with quiet satisfaction, and it clicked.

It was because people who shouldn't have even passed the entrance exam—let alone made it into the Upper Class—had clawed their way here thanks to me!

"Therefore, today's lecture is swimming! Any student who swims across this river may conclude their class immediately!"

"Conversely, anyone who fails to cross before the period ends shall report for weekend supplementary training!"

Screams erupted from the ranks.

"Supplementary training?! How could you do something so horrific?!"

"Aren't weekends meant for going hunting with friends or heading to taverns for drinks?!"

"Then when are we supposed to hold our weekend tea parties?!"

In a fantasy world that was surprisingly civilized enough to have embraced a five-day workweek, weekend supplementary training was practically indistinguishable from slave labor. Amidst the students airing their bitter grievances, Hestia and Zhuang cast a meaningful sidelong glance my way.

Ah, you two saw that note too, didn't you?

The professors' vicious supplementary training that stripped students of their precious weekends! Knowing full well that this was an unavoidable fate once we became second-years, watching them struggle desperately to dodge the supplementary training right in front of them felt both pitiful and utterly futile.

"Silence! What do I care for hunts or tea parties?! The practical exam has already begun! Those who know how to swim, enter the water immediately! Those who do not, assemble before me!"

From faces clouded with gloom to bodies forced to actually plunge into the freezing water—the students balked. Very few were willing to dive headfirst into the rushing current.

"Nya-nya! This is water torture, nya!"

"The vestments of the Lightning Holy Heavenly Sect drape a surplice over heavy chainmail. If I enter the river, I shall sink straight to the riverbed..."

"Oh, damn it. I hate getting my fur wet. Isn't forcing a monkey beastman into the water straight-up racial discrimination?!"

Beside the grumbling students, Arcadia chuckled behind a delicate hand and stepped forward.

"Fufu. To a ducal daughter of the maritime Florence Kingdom, swimming is mere child's play."

"Arcadia! Let's wait just a little bit before going in!"

"Di? Are you afraid of the water?"

"No, look who's over there!"

"Ah. The Northern Grand Duchess..."

Irene, daughter of the Northern Grand Duke, who had displayed her overwhelming might in the previous physical training session by sealing everyone's path with a colossal wall of ice, was stepping up. Formidable enough that few could rival her on dry land, she was now in her absolute element: water.

Craaaack!

The moment her foot lightly tapped the river's surface, the water froze solid with sharp, shuddering cracks! If you got caught mid-swim while the river turned into a midwinter sheet of ice, you'd end up trapped, immobilized, or sealed underneath the frozen surface in a literal horror show.

"Yeah, that's a bit much."

"Didn't Orknodi trail right behind the Northern Grand Duchess last time?"

"Should we try that too?"

Irene strode across the river with overwhelming ease, first place practically in the bag. Following behind her, Horner the lancer set foot on the ice—only to screech and plunge straight into the freezing drink.

"Thin ice?!"

"I am not a fool. I will not permit free riders a second time."

She had calibrated her magic to leave only enough ice for her own footsteps, letting the path behind her shatter, melt, and dissolve into pieces! Underhanded though it was, it was an infallible strategy to secure first place. That is, if crossing the river by means other than swimming had been allowed.

Professor Plato dipped his massive hands into a washbasin and jerked them back with a sharp snap, sending a surging tidal wave tearing down the river that slammed Irene straight back to the starting line.

"—?!?!"

Irene was swept back to the shore, completely bewildered and dripping wet.

"I said to cross by swimming! Cheating shall not be tolerated!"

"Whoa, that's super fair!"

"If it's like this, we might actually stand a chance!"

The innocent students marveled at the professor's strict fairness. But the shrewd ones fixated on the washbasin.

"What was that just now...?!"

"Why did the river surge when the water in the washbasin rose?!"

"Wait... don't tell me, if the professor messes around with the water in that basin, the river mirrors it?!"

"...Is he planning to sabotage us so not a single person can cross?"

"For what purpose?!"

"Because it's fun?"

"Ahaha... no way."

"Right...?"

"……"

"...That's really a joke, right?"

Listening to their anxious chatter, I thought to myself:

Pretty sure that's not a joke at all!