Filmmakers' Midterms
The midterms that every cadet at the Academy held dear.
And the faculty felt the same way.
Inside the auditorium with its massive screen.
This was a conference room within the administrative building.
Fifteen people sat around the long oval table.
Another dozen or so stood watching from around them.
They were all professors from the Academy or staff handling administrative duties.
Everyone wore grave expressions, the atmosphere solemn as they focused intently on each other's words.
Normally, the mood would have been more relaxed, but not at this time.
The midterms were fast approaching.
And word had come that the emperor of the Soladion Empire would personally visit the Academy for them.
Unlike the Academy, with its bizarrely advanced technology, the rest of the world still languished at a medieval level.
The emperor himself was famously an ordinary man who hadn't even received a Quest.
Perhaps due to the inferiority complex that bred.
He had always skipped events like exchanges between the Academy and knightly orders—places teeming with Performers and Arhats.
So why this sudden visit to the Academy?
"...He's not coming here for purely innocent reasons, is he?"
From the head seat, two seats to the right.
A man who looked like a boy spoke up.
"Of course not, Professor Luwell. That child's here at the Academy, isn't she?"
Across from Luwell.
A woman with straight brown hair replied.
"Professor Aina... If you mean 'that child,' are you referring to my student?"
The man asked back.
"Yes, your student, Sellin El Soladion. The deposed princess. That's who I mean, right?"
Aina delivered her words to the man with clear sarcasm.
"That's unbecoming."
"Agreed. Let's leave it at that."
Aeshy Emberline's words seemed to rein in the two.
A white-haired old man at the head of the conference room, his voice deep and resonant, chimed in agreement.
"...My apologies."
"No harm done. You were both just a bit overheated. Think nothing of it."
The white-haired elder who calmed them was Teo Ban Asfel.
The sole mage surpassing even the Tower Master in this era, and the headmaster of the Academy.
After the headmaster spoke, a hush fell, long enough for everyone to catch their breath.
"As you all said, the emperor's visit must have some purpose."
"And it's safe to assume his intentions aren't entirely pure."
Suspicion laced their talk of the emperor, who commanded the world's mightiest army.
Words they wouldn't dare utter outside the Academy flowed freely from the headmaster's lips.
"Professor Luwell, a question for you."
"Yes, Headmaster."
"What are your thoughts on the cadet Sellin El Soladion?"
"...Hm."
Luwell couldn't answer easily.
And he had good reason—Sellin El Soladion was an enigma to him.
A cadet who showed neither dislike nor fondness for his classes, simply following orders to the letter.
Yet she consistently exceeded his expectations...
That was the kind of cadet she was.
If it had been a simple question of her excellence, he would have said she was outstanding.
But the headmaster's queries always carried layers of meaning.
This one was no different.
"She's excellent, but... I think something's broken inside her."
Academy cadets were at the peak of their vitality.
For one to show no emotion at all was clearly a problem.
Luwell pointed that out.
"I feel much the same. Undeniably excellent, but no normal cadet."
"Yes..."
"Professor Luwell, what is the Academy's most cherished virtue?"
"...Freedom and free will."
Freedom and free will.
The Academy had always emphasized the "self" above all.
From the very moment of its founding.
"Do you believe Sellin El Soladion possesses freedom and free will?"
Sellin El Soladion was free.
She could do as she pleased and lived by her own choices.
...But Luwell couldn't agree.
She had the ability to do what she wanted, yet lacked the will to do so—making her unfree, devoid of volition.
That was Sellin El Soladion.
"...No."
"The Academy doesn't prize mere excellence."
A fact Luwell knew well.
"We seek out and nurture those with potential for the future."
"We're not in the business of sharpening blades that harm indiscriminately without purpose."
Yes, Luwell knew that.
He knew it all too well.
"...Headmaster, then will you expel Cadet Sellin?"
The damage the Academy might suffer from the emperor's meddling.
Was he asking if they'd sacrifice one cadet to avert that?
That was Luwell's question.
"If circumstances demand it, yes."
Grind.
"...I see."
As their exchange deepened, tension thickened in the conference room.
"Professor Luwell, you don't want it to come to that?"
"...Every professor cherishes their students. Just as you once did, Headmaster."
Luwell's tone sharpened toward the headmaster.
"Yes... I did."
A murmur, as if lost in memory.
"Professor Luwell."
"Yes."
"Who are the protagonists of the Academy?"
"...The cadets."
The professors' role was solely to teach.
The cadets wrote the Academy's story.
"What is the Academy's virtue?"
"...Freedom and free will."
The same question and answer as before.
"Indeed. We have no right to obstruct the cadets' freedom and will. Wouldn't you agree?"
"...Pardon?"
"That's how I see it."
Luwell couldn't grasp what the headmaster was saying.
What was this sudden shift?
Wasn't the nuance different from moments ago?
That was all he could think.
"You're still too captive to the memories of that day."
"...This isn't the place for that."
"I agree."
Professor Aina interjected into their conversation.
"Heh, right you are. Professor Aina, you were in the same class as Professor Luwell, weren't you?"
"...Yes."
Aina answered.
"Professor Luwell."
"Yes..."
Luwell replied.
"I know you're haunted by that day's memories."
"But the Academy is wholly the cadets' domain."
"They write the story, and we merely correct the typos."
...Luwell had no response.
Or rather, he couldn't respond.
"Professors mustn't step into the spotlight."
"..."
What had Luwell aimed to achieve in this meeting?
Wasn't it to resolve the situation around Sellin El Soladion using only his own abilities and judgment?
Would that be her freedom, her free will?
No.
It would just be projecting his emotions onto an emotionless being.
Not her freedom, not her will.
"Professor Luwell."
"Yes..."
"We don't expel cadets."
"...Yes."
"We don't step forward. We clean up from behind."
"Yes..."
"Whether it's the emperor of the Empire or a kingdom's king, it changes nothing."
Luwell fell silent.
Waiting only for the headmaster's next words.
"If the cadets use the emperor as a stepping stone in writing their own narrative."
"We mustn't interfere—and in truth, we won't."
"But if that narrative proves too much for them... shouldn't we adjust the sequence a bit?"
The headmaster scanned every professor in the room as he asked.
"Agreed."
All the professors in the room responded in unison.
"As always, we won't appear in the story."
"We'll simply help the cadets write a good one."
This was the duty passed down through generations of headmasters.
A duty upheld since the Academy's founding.
Countless cadets had been lost for failing to uphold it.
Yet Teo Ban Asfel kept it.
Because the Academy was that kind of place—one he couldn't arbitrarily change.
The other professors felt the same.
No matter how much they wanted to intervene, professors weren't characters in the Academy.
They were audience and filmmakers.
Those who grieved and thrilled at the cadets' tales, recording them.
And this time was no different.
This rule must never change.
The Academy's founder, who vanished one day without a trace.
At least within these walls, his will had to endure.
For the man who left no records, the Academy had to safeguard his invisible legacy.