Revolution in the Classroom

The moment I accepted the bet with her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from class, a quest window popped up right in front of my eyes.

I frowned at the sight of it.

This is all just stuff I came up with myself, so why's it acting like it's some big deal it created?

Now that I thought about it, yeah, it was called a quest window, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but it was really just a useless feature that spat out the outcomes I'd already decided on.

The funniest part? If I won, her favorability would go up.

I stared at Stella with a look of utter disbelief.

Wait, is this girl a masochist or something?

Why would her favorability rise if she lost? With that expression on my face, Stella shot me a pouty glare.

"What?"

"Nah, nothing."

I parted ways with her there and headed back to my room.

Midterms, huh? Looked like I was gonna have to crack a book for the first time in nearly a decade.

Luckily, the story of my bet with Stella during the midterms didn't spread.

Normally, her fanboy entourage would've blabbed about her every move to the whole academy, but it seemed like Stella—still haunted by the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠summoning ceremony fiasco—had ordered them to keep their mouths shut.

Works for me.

There was this thing called opportunity cost. The price you pay for what you don't choose when you pick something.

If Stella pulled off something that further tarnished the Iritz family's reputation because of me, they wouldn't let a lowly baron like me slide.

The backlash from assassinating one baron would pale compared to the hit to their honor.

Time to start prepping for midterms...

Two weeks until the exam.

I needed to figure out if midterms in this isekai world were just practical like I remembered, or if they included written tests too.

Had to snag some Soul Stones to level up Anna in the meantime...

Lots on my plate.

For now... class time.

And then I'd grill him on why he hadn't bothered telling me about the midterms.

With that in mind, I grabbed my textbook and headed to the classroom.

Oliver was already deep into the lesson.

Coming back after a week, all the kids' stares drilled into me.

And it wasn't just the students.

"...Ian Clark? What's your business in my class?"

"Isn't a student's duty to study?"

"Hilarious. I've got nothing to teach you."

"Professor, I had no idea midterms were coming up until the other day. You got nothing for a student who doesn't even know basic stuff like that?"

Oliver fell silent at my words.

Of course. It was a teacher's job to inform students, and he hadn't announced it.

Anyone with a conscience would be speechless.

"It was posted on the bulletin board too. You've got plenty of time— what, you can't even check that?"

"Ah... my bad."

But this guy had less conscience than I'd hoped.

I promised to be more careful next time and sat in on the class.

Maybe my interruption threw him off, because he paused to gather his thoughts before continuing.

Still garbage lecture, no matter how many times I heard it.

"Summons with the Holy attribute tend to show weakness against those with Dark or Demon attributes..."

Holy-attribute summons weak to Dark or Demon? What a joke.

Whoever wrote that was either an idiot who couldn't control variables or a demon plant trying to make people shun Holy summons.

No other explanation for scribbling that nonsense.

As if reading my mind—or maybe my face gave it away—Oliver pointed at me.

"Cadet Ian, got another problem?"

"...Pardon?"

"Right, you've got a Holy summon, don't you? Must sting hearing it trashed."

"...Yes."

"But what can you do? Reality's reality. Yours is the most useless 3-star out there."

I wondered who spread this crap and how they even figured it out, but arguing more with this clown wasn't worth it. I chose to ignore him.

But he seemed hell-bent on venting his grudge from our last defeat right here, clinging like a leech.

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings? Sorry—I didn't know you were such a delicate little snowflake."

"...Professor Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Your lesson sucks, so if you're gonna keep wasting our time with this nutrient-free drivel, can I bounce?"

"Ho ho, my class lacks nutrients, does it?"

"Yes."

Only then did it hit me—I'd shoved my face right in his.

Months without giving a damn about others' opinions since getting sick had tanked my self-control.

Too late now. I decided to make the most of it and screw with him hard.

Oliver plastered on a smile and asked,

"Then why don't you teach the class?"

"Oh, can I?"

I shot up and headed to the front.

Most students would've shrunk at that, but nobody knew more about summons than me in this world.

As I reached the podium, Oliver's face twisted ugly.

His authority challenged, maybe? I casually stuck out my hand.

"...What?"

"Chalk. Hand it over. Time to teach."

"...Fine. Let's see what you've got."

I snatched the chalk from his hand, flipped open the textbook I'd skimmed once and never touched again, and read aloud.

Maggot-infested trash with maybe 1% actual theory to match its garbage content.

Flipping to the back, sure enough—Oliver's name as the author.

I gave him a shameless? look, but he just glared back, fuming.

Turning to the kids, I slammed the book shut and held it high.

"First off, close your textbooks."

I chucked it across the room. Perfect arc—straight into the trash can, hole-in-one.

Clapped for my own skills, then faced the class and fired off questions.

"Time to teach you what real knowledge is."

Premium info you couldn't buy. Listen up.

Tap-tap-tap. The massive blackboard filled with intricate diagrams and symbols.

Students scrambled to copy them into their notebooks.

Once the rough sketch was done, I quizzed them one by one.

"Anyone know what this is?"

"Attributes."

"Right, attributes."

Summons' attributes were basically classified into twelve types. The five elements—fire, water, wood, metal, earth—plus light and dark, holy and demon, poison and lightning, wind.

Plus the neutral None attribute, making it thirteen strictly speaking, but officially twelve.

The weird part? Holy and light are separate.

A demon could have light, a holy one dark. Meant light/dark weren't about good/evil.

Or so they said. User consensus was they split 'em to push swimsuit skins.

"Okay, so what about counters?"

"Counters? Five elements cycle among themselves, others eat each other in their groups. Right?"

"Yep. But what if a dual-attribute summon faces a counter?"

I cited a starfish with both fire and metal.

Water and metal ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠generate together.

But water and fire clash.

Does that even make physical sense?

"...In that case."

The students clammed up.

No wonder—no one had an answer.

They'd never seen it. Rare 3-star with mismatched attributes? Slim odds.

Finally, one kid piped up after agonizing.

"Still unknown."

"Who asked that? I want the answer."

"How should I know? Nobody does..."

She trailed off, embarrassed.

Too bad for her—this world had someone who knew.

"Answer: It hinges on the primary attribute. Starfish base is metal-eater, so metal."

"How do you even know that!?"

"Study if you don't. What've you been doing?"

Studying or not, this was cutting-edge knowledge not public yet.

First taste of true lore from the cradle of knowledge—they fell into chaos.

Even Oliver, who should know better, gawked at me in disbelief.

"One more example."

I sketched another on the board: the familiar 2-star Fire Monkey.

"Fire Monkey's attribute?"

"...Fire, duh."

"Really?"

Now the kids hesitated. Their worldview crumbling—even obvious facts felt iffy.

I smirked at their faces and turned to Oliver.

"Professor, your answer? What attribute?"

"...Ian, what's your basis for all this—"

"That your answer, Professor?"

"...Fire attribute."

"Weakness?"

"Water, obviously."

"Is it, though?"

I wiped the flames off the Fire Monkey sketch, leaving just the monkey, and pointed.

"Fire Monkey roots from Stone Monkey. Stone Monkey's earth attribute... strong against water."

"No way! ...No confirmed link between 1-star Stone Monkey and 2-star Fire Monkey."

"Unproven doesn't mean false."

I checked the roll call and summoned two kids: one with Fire Monkey, one with 1-star Water Gun Bug.

They seemed to get why they were up front.

"Water overcomes fire, earth overcomes water. Mud swallows water. 1-star vs. 3-star, fire power wins out ignoring counters... but 1-star diff? Counters apply."

Explaining to Oliver like he was the student, I told the pair to summon.

They hesitated, then did: a flame-wreathed monkey and a massive bug packed with water in its shell.

"What're you waiting for? Shoot."

"...Water Gun Bug, attack."

—Pssshhh!

The bug summon's maw blasted a high-pressure water cannon on command.

It doused the Fire Monkey's flames.

"There you go!"

Oliver jumped up, yelling.

Sizzle—the steam seemed to mock all my claims as wrong.

But I waited calmly.

Moments later.

—Whoosh!

The flames roared back fiercer, like the water was fuel.

I smiled at Oliver.

"See? That textbook's got zero valid theory—pure garbage. And Holy being the weakest? Dead wrong too."

Class dismissed.

I returned to my seat.

Even after I sat, Oliver—back at the podium—stared at the board forever.

Finally, he silently fished the trashed book from the bin and muttered,

"...Self-study today."

With that, he left the classroom.