Academy Slave Instructor
The lecture today was a crime.
It was a crime.
By the decree of the first Emperor Terakan Shane Vernies, who had conquered three kingdoms and claimed the imperial throne, the Legandia Academy was built atop the ancient ruins.
When the academy was established, a village naturally formed around it, and the first Emperor decided to create a planned city centered entirely on the academy.
This was the moment that showed how deeply Terakan was invested in education and how much he poured his power into it.
The empire, naturally concerned about it, threw every resource into the project and named the city after the academy itself—Legandia.
Normally, simply saying “Legandia” meant the academy, so people often confused the city with the school. Small misunderstandings like that aside, Legandia as a city was truly excellent.
The grid and roads were clearly divided, and the first Emperor’s attention meant the scale itself started large and never had to be expanded in a messy way.
Located at the extreme northernmost point of the continent, the geography was not favorable, yet because of the immense imperial interest, Legandia became one of the empire’s most visited cities, drawing countless people.
Even though the empire had subjugated several advanced capitals of other nations, being called a standout city was a testament to how diligently the officials appointed by the first Emperor had worked.
Although the city was also called the academy’s attached city, it was full of people, and the streets were always bustling.
“Ah~ I really had a good time today.”
The more people there were, the more places for leisure and entertainment sprang up. Seiban, an academy student from Class A, had gone out on the streets for the first time in a while and enjoyed himself—delicious food, drinks, and a little nightlife.
No words were spoken, but Aslan beside him looked satisfied as well and was slightly tipsy. Occasionally, when the group needed to unwind, they strolled the streets, laughing together.
Aslan, Seiban, and Delan were inseparable on campus and outside as well. All three were built like tanks, and their roughhousing—kicking each other’s backsides, for example—was a frequent sight. That alone made them stand out.
Still, no one dared to pick a fight with them. Aslan’s fierce gaze was enough to make even ordinary people turn away and avoid him without a word.
Seiban thought Aslan’s face was intimidating only because of its appearance, but he kept that thought to himself. If he opened his mouth, Aslan would surely kick him from the rear.
“So… how strong is Raikang, exactly?”
Aslan and Seiban were trading smoke-free banter, and when Rai’s name came up, Seiban asked. Diana and Cecet had been calling him Raikang so much that the nickname had stuck.
Close friends used the nickname, and even those who barely knew him called him Raikang when talking among themselves.
“He’s in the prime of his active years, and he doesn’t look like he’s recovering from any injury. He must have some skill.”
Aslan remembered Rai’s boast that he sat in the continent’s top twenty and answered casually.
Rai was no empty-headed braggart. He had wiped out dozens of assassins—according to rumors, not a single one escaped.
Students who had tried to imagine the difficulty of chasing down dozens of people fleeing in every direction had plenty to say about Rai’s skill. Some called it exaggerated gossip, others said he was ex-guard from the emperor’s personal unit, but all of it was nothing but baseless rumor.
“Hee~ So you know something, do you?”
Seiban, quick on the wit, looked at Aslan and asked. Aslan shook his head.
“I don’t know either. I only heard him brag once.”
“Oh~ So you’re close with Raikang?”
“Why would I be close with that guy?”
“But Raikang’s personality is light, yet he barely brags. When he does, it’s usually about weird stuff. He burned the vice principal’s statue with it, right? What a truly great human.”
Seiban laughed out loud when he recalled the incident where Bright used magic to attack Rai. Raikang had angered the man who valued dignity and refinement, which was already enough reason to respect him in some way.
Even though Rai had helped during training, Aslan still found his annoying antics unbearable and frowned slightly.
Aslan didn’t care as much about manners or dignity as Philia did, but if someone was supposed to be a knight, he believed they should at least have some rugged reliability and weight. Rai, on the other hand, was far too unrefined for Aslan’s taste.
“Why are you acting like that? What did Raikang brag about that you’re swallowing your words over?”
“He said he’s in the continent’s top twenty.”
“That’s still at least the rank of a company commander in the army.”
“Not the empire—in the entire continent.”
Even Seiban, who had been laughing lightly, fell silent at that. No matter how big the empire was, there were still a dozen or more countries on the continent—some dangerous enough that the empire had to keep them in check. Every single one of those countries had at least one or two strong representatives.
If you gathered only those representatives, you’d have twenty people at most. If Rai’s words were true, then in the empire alone he would barely scrape into the top five. So on the whole continent, his rank was truly absurd.
“Do you have a high opinion of yourself?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Since he says it so boldly, what am I supposed to think?”
You had to give just enough credit so people believed you. If you overdid it, the statement only felt pretentious. Seiban fell silent, thought for a moment, shrugged, and decided to pretend he hadn’t heard anything else.
Usually they talked about some girl in the opposite class being cute or whether he should try to flirt with her.
After a long conversation, Aslan finished his cigarette. Seiban looked up at the tower and said,
“Ah, I have to head in early today. My brother’s coming over.”
It was still relatively late, but Seiban had a promise and said he was leaving. Delan followed right behind, and the group naturally began to disperse.
Aslan, who had finally come out and was a little tipsy, wanted to stay out a bit longer, but he hid it and saw them off.
“Don’t look like a kicked puppy. I’ll play with you again later.”
“Stop bullshitting and get lost already.”
“Max, take good care of the house! Don’t poop in the garden! Don’t bark randomly!”
Aslan raised his middle finger toward Seiban, who called him by the common dog name and ran off like a child. Once Seiban left, Delan gave a silent, playful wave and headed home. Only Aslan remained on the empty street.
Aslan lit another cigarette and leaned against the wall.
He didn’t want to go home. At home, the tutor sent by the family and his monitor waited with eyes full of contempt.
Just thinking about the tutor’s face—always looking at him with a look of pure contempt and grumbling—made Aslan’s stomach turn.
He had nothing to do, so Aslan started walking the streets.
Legandia, the huge planned city, had large commercial districts and entertainment areas; walking anywhere felt like you could never reach the end. No one found it strange that Aslan, alone and looking irritated, wandered around. He could have been harassed for looking annoyed, but the moment people saw his fierce gaze, they turned away.
There was nothing interesting to do and he didn’t want to go home, so Aslan walked aimlessly until he stopped in front of a weapons shop.
A young girl and the man who looked like her father were examining the weapons on display. Aslan smiled, imagining how the girl would look years later as a hero, while the father looked on with gentle pride.
Someone bumped into his shoulder.
*Thud.*
“Hey, you—stop there.”
The man who bumped into him tried to leave without even saying sorry. Aslan scowled and tried to speak, but the man kept walking.
Aslan’s irritation flared. Just as he turned to grab the guy, someone shouted from behind.
“Help! He’s a pervert!”
A loud voice came from behind. Aslan hadn’t even looked back, but he immediately understood the man who had bumped him was the pervert. He felt irritated, yet a strange sense of relief washed over him. He took a step forward to grab the guy when someone else reached for his shoulder.
Aslan instinctively bent down, snatched the attacker’s ankle, and lifted him. The armored man spun half a turn and crashed to the ground. Aslan went to stomp his head with his foot but stopped.
The man’s armor was familiar. Anyone who had stepped foot in Legandia at least once would recognize the guard’s uniform from the main gate.
While Aslan hesitated, the guard rolled on the ground, twisted in pain, yet still performed his duty.
“The suspect’s strength is not to be underestimated! Draw weapons! Call for backup!”
“… …”
Even shocked, the guard had handled the situation perfectly. But Aslan had no idea what he was saying.
Suspect? Why was he talking to Aslan as if he were the suspect?
“I’m not the suspect!”
Aslan shouted. The other guards lowered their spears in unison. The sudden chaos caused nearby citizens to scream and back away.
“Pervert? What did you do?”
“I saw him laughing lewdly at that girl earlier!”
“Stay back! Get away!”
The father who had been holding the girl saw the guards and instinctively raised his hands to cover his face. The guards shouted to stay put, but Aslan, distracted, looked around. An experienced guard circled to block his escape route, warning him not to move while he held no weapon.
Aslan quickly retreated.
If he had just surrendered quietly, the misunderstanding would have been easy to clear up, but inexperienced, he panicked and chose to run.
Aslan imagined the tutor at home looking down on him with contempt once he was locked in prison, and he knew that would never happen. He ran with everything he had.
A brave guard lunged at him. Aslan easily dodged, didn’t even glance back, and dashed into a narrow alley.
“Suspect description: short-cropped dark-green hair, tall and muscular build, fierce eyes!”
The guards shouted the description loudly and gave chase.
Aslan flinched at the word “fierce,” but running came first. He leaped over wooden crates piled in the back alleys, heart pounding.
“Stop right there! Pervert!”
“Get lost!”
A good-natured man blocking the way with a weapon was no match for Aslan’s light hook that shattered his jaw. Aslan kept running.
He didn’t know where he was anymore. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath when he heard the guards’ shouts in the distance.
He still couldn’t understand how he had ended up in this situation.
The pervert was clearly the man who had bumped him. Yet he was now being chased with a false accusation of being a pervert. Aslan had no problem being called a murderer, but being called a pervert was something he hated with every fiber of his being. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.
The number of guards he had knocked out and the ones who had tried to stop him was growing.
Now not just regular guards, but advanced soldiers who would normally be difficult for him to fight were chasing him.
Countless soldiers began moving, filling the spiderweb-like alleys.
Aslan was considering climbing a building wall when he felt a presence behind him and prepared to fight.
*Thump, thump.*
“… …”
“… …”
Rai was sitting on the stairs leading to the back door of the shop, watching Aslan with a calm, slightly dazed expression.
It wasn’t so much surprise as simple recognition that Rai had seen Aslan right in front of him. He finished chewing the bread he was eating, and an awkward silence settled over the alley.
“The suspect’s strength is not to be underestimated! Request more reinforcements!”
“We’re already prepared in the military! Secure the suspect’s location quickly!”
When distant shouts of guards grew louder, Rai’s gaze, which had been turned toward the commotion, returned to Aslan.
“You… are you really doing what a person should and shouldn’t do?”
“No! I’m not! I’m not a pervert!”
Aslan shouted with a look of contempt at Rai’s expression.
Rai, who had been silent, simply brushed off the crumbs on his clothes and said casually.
“Strong denial…”
“No!!”
Aslan shouted again, cutting him off.
He would never allow anyone to mislabel him a pervert. He would fight with his life if necessary.
When Rai met Aslan’s eyes—eyes that held an intensity unlike any other time—guards entered the alley. It was a situation that should have been hidden like mice, yet he had shouted loud enough for them to find him.
The moment the guards saw Aslan, they raised their spears and shouted.
“Stop right there—”
But the words died in their throats.
Rai appeared behind the fallen guards, bread still in his mouth. He had been watching the whole time and hadn’t noticed Aslan’s movement at all. Aslan was surprised by Rai’s skill, but even more so by the guards he had taken down.
“Why? You said you’re not one.”
Rai spat the bread in his mouth onto the ground and said without concern. Aslan muttered, stunned.
“Even so… you believed that?”
“You have to believe it. I’m the instructor.”
“… …”
The fact that the most un-instructor-like person was the one declaring himself an instructor caused confusion in Aslan. But Rai ignored his dazed face and grabbed the guard’s leg to move him.
“Hey, stop standing there dazed. Help me move him.”
“No, but… is that okay?”
“Leave no evidence.”
Aslan fumbled clumsily with the words, but Rai answered as if it were natural.
“Destroy the evidence.”
The same person who had just called himself an instructor without being one was now casually ordering evidence destruction as naturally as breathing.
Aslan dragged the unconscious guard’s foot to the corner. Only after realizing what he was doing did he look at Rai.
“What about attacking the guards?”
“Look, the kids are moving—didn’t you already attack them? Double standards?”
Aslan couldn’t answer Rai’s words.
He had seen the guards’ actions and understood what had happened. They were skilled, as if they had done it many times before.
“What exactly happened?”
Aslan gave a short explanation of everything that had just occurred and complained of injustice.
“Then let’s run to the academy. We’ll hide there for about a week. It’ll be fine.”
“Are we not clearing up the misunderstanding?”
“We threw punches. Do you think the misunderstanding will clear easily?”
It was obvious. Aslan had no choice but to nod. While they talked, Rai had already removed the guard’s armor and tossed it to him.
“Why is this?”
“To escape. It’s been a while. This should be fun.”
Aslan hesitated, then put on the armor while watching Rai’s smile that made it hard to tell whether he was an instructor or a criminal.