Wise Teaching Assistant Life (2)
Kyle Arden. There wasn't a single person in that room who didn't know the name.
Once infamous as a wastrel, now revered as a saint—how could anyone on the entire continent not know him?
They'd all heard his name and seen him at the entrance ceremony. And since they shared the same spaces, they'd even run into him from time to time. Each encounter had been shocking. They'd stolen glances at him nonstop.
Yet here he was, showing up as the teaching assistant for their lecture. It was astonishing, to say the least—and a bit intimidating. After all, sharing space with a saint wasn't nothing.
But at the same time, it was intriguing. A man from an elite family, with fame that echoed across the continent—what could he possibly lack that made him take on a TA role?
Over 90% of the classroom couldn't make sense of it, but a sharp-eyed few had a rough guess. Still, it was their first meeting—no one dared ask.
That's when Kyle spoke up.
"Any questions?"
At his words, one student timidly raised a hand.
"Um, what should we call you normally...?"
"TA works, but just call me 'senpai.' That's easiest."
"Yes, Kyle-senpai."
The student's voice carried a warmth that eased their minds. He's not as prickly as the rumors say. Their upperclassmen had warned them: his wastrel past might leave some rough edges in his speech and behavior.
Thankfully, it seemed unfounded. But then Kyle lightly smacked the lectern, his eyes turning a touch menacing.
"And one more thing upfront. Call me 'Saint' here in Tianis, and you're dead meat."
Yeah, scratch that thought. The upperclassmen's advice rang true after all. The students vowed to heed every warning from now on.
"Next question?"
The students shook their heads. That last remark had killed any curiosity.
"Senpai, that's it."
"Good job. You handled it without breaking a sweat."
Ruina said this as she tiptoed to pat Kyle's head. When she still couldn't reach, he bent his knees a bit.
"I'm not the type to get nervous about stuff like this."
"Still, you did well."
It was a natural, everyday moment between them. But the watching students felt a bitter taste in their mouths.
Noticing their reactions, Kyle turned to Ruina.
"Still, tone it down in front of others. You're a professor now."
"Okay, got it."
Ruina straightened up. Then she added,
"Hand out the materials."
"Yes, ma'am."
Kyle summoned mana to distribute the papers he'd brought. Only once everyone had theirs did Ruina begin.
The lecture was finally underway.
Ruina-senpai's lecture had begun. I hung back a bit, watching.
I rarely needed to step in during the lesson.
"You freshmen passed the entrance exam, but your basics are lacking. Alchemy terms, material properties—you know nothing."
Senpai was spot on. Tianis prioritizes talent above all when selecting students. They scout raw potential first, so some have barely touched alchemy.
This class filled those gaps before practicals.
"That's what we'll cover today. It's all in the handouts."
Prep with senpai had shown me: this was pure basics. Even total novices could memorize it easily.
"We'll base this semester's practicals on this. Memorize it all, no exceptions."
One student raised a hand—the one who'd skimmed the sheets right after distribution.
"Professor Ruina, what if we already know it all?"
"If you do, you pass this week's lecture. No need to show up. But... do you really know it?"
"Yes. This is all beginner basics. We learned it ages ago."
Arrogant, maybe. But those types exist—kids from alchemy families or privileged backgrounds who studied early.
"Fine. You're dismissed if you pass the test."
"Pardon?"
"Why the surprise?"
Senpai eyed him and continued.
"You claim to know it all, while others don't. As your professor, I have to verify."
She glanced at me. Catching her drift, I approached the student and extended my hand.
He placed his handout on my palm. His expression soured as I took it—clearly proud of his alchemy knowledge. Being dismissed like this stung.
But Tianis wasn't for run-of-the-mill talent. It forged contributors to the continent's progress, beyond even the empire.
"Ready?"
"Yes, sir."
Confidence radiated from him. Senpai fired off a question.
"How many types of iron on the continent?"
"First, from Justia..."
He answered smoothly. Next:
"Mana density by magestone grade."
"Lowest grade is..."
Flawless again. His pride seemed earned.
But not for long. Midway, he started stumbling.
"Name the uses of those irons you mentioned. And why."
"Gorun iron has good mana conductivity for magitech, Justia iron is hard to refine but tough for weapons and armor. North Continent iron holds chill, so..."
"Why'd you stop?"
"I don't know. Never handled North Continent iron..."
"See? You don't know it."
Senpai scolded, but kindly—as a professor should.
"That's why we study. Got it?"
"Y-yes... Sorry, Professor Ruina."
"No worries. Happens."
I handed him back the sheet.
"This is the standard. Use it everywhere. Memorize once..."
The lecture resumed.
Genius types usually suck at teaching—different thought processes. Ruina-senpai was one such genius. She'd normally struggle.
But surprisingly, she matched the students' level.
"I said revision flowers hate heat. But there's an exception. What?"
Five options floated in the air—all fire-related materials. Students pondered, picking answers.
One went unpicked.
"Why not Fire Essence?"
"Well..."
"It's fire itself..."
Some ventured that. Senpai shook her head.
"Common mistake. Think essence means stronger fire power. Wrong."
Her flat, emotionless tone explained. Soft and steady, it stuck in their ears effortlessly.
Of course, once the lecture kicked in, a sleeper appeared. I snuck up, hand on his shoulder.
"Sleepy?"
"Ugh—huh?!"
Eyes flew open. He froze, speechless.
"First lecture, and you're dozing?"
"M-morning drowsiness..."
"Tsk. Hang in there."
I channeled mana into my finger, pressing a pressure point. He winced but I kept going.
"There. Two hours, no sleepies."
"Th-thanks... senpai."
"Pay attention."
"Yes, sir."
I patrolled, waking dozers. No real need, but meaningful first class—I made the rounds.
Then assisted senpai as TA. Time flew; end neared.
I approached the still-focused senpai.
"Senpai. Time's up."
"Already?"
"Yeah, wrap it."
"Okay."
Prep revealed: she hyperfocuses during lectures. We agreed I'd signal.
"Good work. Lecture over. Lunch time."
"Senpai. Next venue."
"Oh."
She'd forgotten—clicked after I said it.
To the students:
"Next class in the lab."
"Yes, Professor!"
"Got it!"
They beamed—happy for the break—and filed out. Entrance got rowdy, but cleanup first.
"Good job."
"Fun lecture."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Her lips twitched up—genuine.
"Did I do well?"
"First one, and this good? Solid A+."
No jitters, prepped materials, student-level explanations. 90+ easy.
"Yeah, think so."
"Keep it up."
We finished and left. Someone waited at the door.
"Kyle! First lecture go okay?"
That explained the noise. Rana, curious, came early. Lunch at the cafeteria, but...
"Eh, decent."
"Phew. Ruina-senpai?"
"...Why're you here?"
"Your historic debut!"
"Nngh... Off."
Ruina shoved the clinging Rana. Lunchtime anyway—we headed to the cafeteria.
First day wrapped nicely.
A pitch-black room, no light. Jeras Lindel listened to a report.
"Preparations complete?"
"Yes. Selection done."
"Understood. Finish up."
"Yes, sir."
The presence faded into darkness. Jeras leaned back, mulling it.
"Then now..."
He murmured, pulling a communication magitech from his robes. Infused mana—connected.
The recipient, naturally:
Ruina Lindel. His own daughter.