That Swagger: Charisma or Presence?
That same swagger? Charisma, or should I call it presence. People instinctively gauge an opponent's presence. There are many criteria for how heavy that presence weighs. How large their build is, how beautiful their face—those matter too. Or a voice that's a killer baritone, clothes from some ultra-expensive boutique, things like that can influence it. Their position in society, of course, plays a role as well.
To the students, Obern Grimoire exuded charisma in every way imaginable. Even the kids from prestigious families, even the prince who knew no bounds to the heavens, felt it. The momentary silence that fell upon his entrance said it all.
But Obern Grimoire's charisma wasn't just skin-deep. His actions and words carried no hesitation. He didn't fear nobles, nor did he seem to fear royalty. What gave him that confidence? Probably his magic. The crystal snake staff in his hand could work miracles if he willed it. That's where that self-assurance came from, right?
The students thought so unconsciously.
"Explain the situation."
Obern said it plainly. But no one stepped forward readily. Drawing the prince's wrath—or even Kal Rayman's, from a count's family—would be too much to bear.
With no answer forthcoming, Obern pointed his staff at one student.
"You. Speak."
The chosen one was Lania Grayrim. She looked troubled, forcing a wry smile.
"His Highness made the kids fight each other."
The prince's and Kal's faces twisted oddly. It was too blunt. Only a Martine could say it like that. Lania was one of the kingdom's rare marquess heirs. She laid out the unvarnished facts—all of it. Even the prince's bullying.
"...I see."
As she finished, every student watched Obern with bated breath, eyes gleaming. Would he reprimand the prince? Or brush it off?
Obern paused briefly. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and spoke.
"Pathetic, reckless, and utterly deplorable."
Could the atmosphere turn this icy?
"No dignity befitting a prince."
The professor openly condemned him. Philly Aden Solion's face contorted in fury.
"Emerald School admits royalty to broaden their horizons by studying alongside nobles and commoners alike, per the late king's will—so they remember that even princes are human under the gods."
There was indeed such an origin story.
"This cannot be overlooked. Time for the rod."
Obern pointed his snake-topped staff at the three.
"Prince Philly Aden Solion, Bex Galants, Kal Rayman. Come down here."
In Emerald School, professors could punish even royalty. It was a point of prestige, but actual cases were rare. Even professors found it burdensome.
"Bex Galants, for acting like a sycophant and clouding the prince's judgment: three strikes."
"Yes, sir..."
"Kal Rayman. As a noble, you had a duty to correct the prince's reckless words and offer counsel. You failed: three strikes."
"Understood."
Both nodded meekly.
"Philly Aden Solion, as a prince who should embody magnanimity, you instead bullied and disrupted the learning environment: three strikes."
"...Think I'm scared?"
The prince smirked defiantly instead.
Corporal punishment was common at Emerald School. To preserve dignity, it followed procedure: strikes to the back of the thigh with a switch.
The prince knew it was possible. Just not on day one.
"Reflect deeply. Move, and we start over."
Bex went first. Surprisingly, Obern used his own snake staff as the switch. Versatile tool, that staff.
Switch Strike
Snap— Snap— Snap—
Bex let out a grunt but endured. Three strikes done.
Next, Kal Rayman.
Snap— Snap— Snap—
No sound from him. Instead, he bowed: "Thank you for the guidance."
"Next."
The prince's turn. Philly was furious. The professor was trying to assert dominance, and even knowing it pissed him off. Obern probably lacked the guts to hit hard anyway. But the thigh? He'd show no reaction.
Steeling himself, the prince faced the wall. Obern swung the staff—not too fast.
But the moment it hit:
Crack! Agony. Like a whip's lash.
"Kyaaak!"
The prince screamed despite himself.
When Lania Grayrim explained the prince's bullying, my gut decision was ignore it.
I stopped him. Letting a punk like that slide would erode teacher authority. And that meant Obern's prestige crumbles too. No more raking in side respect and dignity points.
Unacceptable.
'Punish him!'
'B-but... he's a prince...'
'Me too!' Didn't expect to say that myself, but facts are facts.
In the end, Obern declared punishment. Bex and Kal took three each on the thigh and stepped back. Honestly, that was fine by me.
'Good job.'
Then the prince's turn. Who knew this idiot Obern would go soft at the wrist on impact? The prince was the worst of the three. It'd just be a tap—he'd smirk like 'Knew it.'
Couldn't let that happen. So I snapped my tail from the staff.
Tail Whip lv3
I could chomp arrows mid-flight now. My snap? Invisible.
Crack! Impact solid.
"Kyaaak!"
So cocky seconds ago, now screaming like that? The prince's wail echoed.
Everyone's expectation of a light tap—betrayed.
The prince whipped around in shock. All students stared at me and Obern.
Then, something I didn't expect.
Publicly punished royalty.
Resonance with Connection Target's fair actions impresses the masses.
Gained significant dignity.
Oh. That. The vibe of the teacher who schools the school bully.
The prince froze in shock. Must've remembered 'Move and restart.'
Second strike.
Crack! Eased the snap a bit. Still hurt, apparently. He writhed with a "Keeak!"
That instant, my eyes met Amaen's up above. He looked stunned. Did he spot my snap?
"He moved!"
Didn't expect Amaen to yell that. He saw me move.
But the prince suddenly shouted too.
"Th-that bastard! It was barely a twitch!"
Tears of injustice, yet admitting he moved. Obern had no choice—restart.
Prince took five total. Obern cast group heal to erase evidence.
Classroom order restored. Obern's charisma skyrocketed.
Amaen became the madman who blocked the prince and added three extra strikes.
And I stocked up on dignity. All good.
Clap clap clap
Entering the faculty research building, someone stormed up huffing. The dean of academic affairs.
"Professor Obern Grimoire, have you lost your mind?"
Rumors spread fast. How'd he know already?
"Punishing His Highness the prince. On day one!"
Obern was inwardly tense but stood firm as I'd instructed.
"No violation of school rules. Procedure followed."
"Rules be damned. Why so rigid, young man? Prince Philly's enrollment is under His Majesty's watch. Haven't you heard he's the king's sore spot, the third prince?"
Obern stared down the dean silently.
'What do I say here?'
-Beats me. I don't micromanage Obern's acting. Actor's autonomy and all.
And Obern had star quality.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Wh-what?"
Nice. The reason timid Obern could be so bold? Ballarnyar the headmaster appeared behind.
"Now, now, no fighting."
No clue why, but Ballarnyar doted on Obern.
"Did Professor Obern bully the prince out of personal grudge?"
"Urgh..."
"No real harm done anyway. And I heard something from His Majesty myself."
Ballarnyar was genuinely the king's drinking buddy.
"Never indulge the third prince's whims. If he won't listen, beat the tears out of him. That brat needs firm discipline."
"Wha...?"
"Not my words—His Majesty's. Haha."
If true, Obern did good. Dean couldn't rage anymore.
"...Headmaster, you're too lenient with Grimoire."
"Haha, that so?"
Dean grumbled and left. Headmaster approached.
This gnome was unnerving. Felt like he'd see through me any second. I played staff harder.
Acting lv3
Handy skill I lent Obern.
"Obern, my boy."
"Yes, Headmaster."
"Backed by the Court Count, eh?"
"..."
Gasp. He knew that too?
Silence is golden here.
"Aiming to be a Chiron?"
What's Chiron? Pellelian chimed in.
-Myth. Mentor spots talent in a shepherd boy, teaches him, crowns him king...
Headmaster's asking: You and the Court Count pushing the third prince for the throne?
'For real, Obern?'
'How should I know? No clue!'
Obern was hearing it fresh too.
"Not an easy path."
"No idea what you're talking about."
"Haha, evasive."
"Class prep calls—excuse us."
We slipped away naturally. That gnome's knowing smile creeped me out.
Sorry, but that spoiled prince ain't king material.
And Amaen. Classes done, heading to dorms—his steps light.
Today's events shifted how students saw him. Half pitied the fool commoner who earned the prince's hate. Half admired his boldness against royal authority.
But what buoyed Amaen? Unrelated.
'Definitely Master!'
Beats me how Master ended up posing as the professor's staff snake. But that rigid ornament moved.
'Here to see me? Maybe.'
Mood great unlocking his door.
Then—someone on the opposite bed.
No way. His roommate, finally moved in.
"...Who the hell are you?"
The third prince, thrashed in front of everyone today.