First Class: Divine Proof
Chloe glanced at the clock. 10:30 a.m. There was still a full hour left before class ended.
“Then, when did the manifestation of Divine Power begin? To understand that, we must trace our steps back to the distant past—to the primordial era when the Creator descended upon the earth. According to the scriptures…”
Eirin, seated next to Chloe, kept nodding off despite Chloe having nudged her awake several times already. Theology class was that boring, that utterly devoid of fun.
That was also why Professor Antonelli's lectures unfolded in such a solemn, hushed atmosphere. Chloe found the classroom vibe different from what she'd imagined—more challenging, somehow.
“...And so, in the end, the power known as Divine Power is a grace that anyone can wield if they meet the right conditions. It is possible only because humanity has received divinity since the primordial times.”
Before she knew it, Chloe had filled three full pages of her previously blank notebook with notes. Though only an hour had passed since the start of class, her hand hadn't gotten a moment's rest.
Professor Antonelli's lectures were like crash courses in practical combat—dense, with no fluff, every word essential. Everything covered today could easily appear on the second-semester exam.
Yet it wasn't all impenetrable jargon. Each point came with ample explanation, enough to let students infer answers to future questions on their own.
The parts I don't get... I'll have to ask the professor later.
Chloe underlined the tricky sections and resolved to do just that. She still had so much to learn.
“The scriptures say: 'The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.' We who live in an age of magic and divinity must never forget this grace. That is the conclusion.”
With those words, Professor Antonelli paused the lesson. Chloe, who had been scribbling furiously, took the moment to stretch her fingers and catch her breath.
Even as he delivered his seamless lecture, the professor periodically inserted two- or three-minute breaks. Thanks to that, even struggling students could keep up.
A masterclass considerate of every student's abilities. Chloe quietly congratulated herself on choosing the academy. Though she belonged to the magic department, theology and magic were closely intertwined, making the lessons rewarding.
As she flexed her hand and rubbed her tired eyes, a slender arm rose gracefully from the front row. Chloe stopped rubbing and looked up.
“Professor. I believe theology, grounded in Divine Power, is fundamentally an inferior discipline compared to magic.”
It was the lady of Adelaide. Chloe's eyes widened as she focused on her words.
“In academic circles, Divine Power is largely viewed as an ambiguous, unproven mystery. Simple spells are accessible to anyone, yet the miracles powered by Divine Power—limited in scope and clearly bounded—seem hardly practical.”
Her tone was sharp. The students' eyes bulged in the packed classroom. In the instantly frozen air, the lady of Adelaide pressed on.
“Thus, I consider modern theology little more than a liberal arts subject—a dead discipline. If anything, it should be seen as a mere adjunct to magic.”
“...What exactly are you trying to say?”
Professor Antonelli's expression twisted. The lady of Adelaide let out a faint scoff at his probing tone.
“Please refrain from lessons that stray from the scope of modern theology. That was my point.”
Silence blanketed the room again. Professor Antonelli and the lady of Adelaide locked eyes, neither yielding, like a staring contest.
Chloe swallowed hard. She couldn't fathom why the lady was being so aggressive. At last, the professor spoke.
“The flexibility of magic, powered by mana. True, it's a quality hard to argue for in miracles wielded by Divine Power.”
His voice was dry, rough, devoid of inflection. Was that why? Why Chloe unconsciously clenched her fists.
“It's also true that, excluding professional priests, the vast majority of ordinary people struggle to use Divine Power, making theology seem more liberal arts than practical discipline.”
“Then—”
“However, that merely reflects a flawed approach to theology.”
Professor Antonelli raised his fist. It halted at chest level, then slowly unfurled. What emerged in the classroom was...
It was... it was...
“Wha...”
“...What is...”
“Whoa...”
It was proof of theology itself.
Like a flower blooming in full, petal by petal from each finger. Soft golden hues filled the room.
Before long, waves of gold rippled evenly across the entire classroom. No student's eyes could tear away from the professor's hand.
A geometric perfection that would make magic department students drool—the epitome of intricate Divine Power. A single golden flower had blossomed in his palm.
And it didn't end there. The pure essence from that one bloom shyly birthed more. One flower, two... up to five bloomed from his hand.
“Th-the Primordial Flower...”
A student behind Chloe muttered in awe.
The ancient proof of faith used by priests to denote rank, handed down from antiquity. The Primordial Flower. And five petals had bloomed.
“Ah...”
The lady of Adelaide and every student in the room fell utterly silent. Even Eirin, now wide awake, was no exception.
Its geometric beauty transcended the magic circles of the mage academies. No—comparison was impossible. Unlike circles built from points, lines, and shapes, this was complexity on another plane.
Yet despite surpassing such limits, it repelled no one. That intricate, precise structure was heartbreakingly beautiful.
It was the golden flower. The embodiment of perfection. The crystallization of harmony.
Fantastic enough to draw gasps of wonder. Beautiful enough to sting the eyes. Awe-inspiring enough to swell the chest. All the truths of the world contained therein.
And the students remembered. Their minds flashed back to the lesson's opening.
In unison, they flipped through their books to a scripture verse they'd skimmed earlier. The very sentence that had begun this theology class.
The Lord said: “Let there be light,” and from that place, the primordial divinity bloomed.
“The primordial divinity...”
Whoosh—!
The flowers captivating every gaze vanished in an instant. Regretful sighs erupted here and there.
Some sank into deep thought. Some were overcome with emotion at the primordial grace. Others squinted, trying to decode the structure they'd just witnessed.
Someone. Someone. Someone.
And her, seated right there.
“Laura von Adelaide.”
Laura von Adelaide...
Lifted her head in a daze. The professor's face, tinged with irritation, came into view.
“Then why—why can't everyone on this earth wield this power? Do you know the reason?”
Laura von Adelaide had no answer. As a magic student, her curiosity surged endlessly.
And doubt crept in. If theology was truly useless as she'd claimed, then what was that impossible sight she'd just beheld?
Gazing steadily at her, Professor Antonelli addressed the entire class.
“Do the rest of you know?”
“......”
No one answered. No one raised a hand.
“No one has an answer, then.”
The professor stepped down from the podium and spoke to everyone in the room.
“In that case, your assignment.”
Assignment? What assignment?
As confusion filled the students' minds...
“Due in one month. Compile a report, around ten pages, on why no one can use Divine Power and how to solve that problem. Submit it to me.”
The students' faces twisted grotesquely. Handing homework on the very first day was bad enough—but on such a profound topic?
For freshmen barely settled into the academy, Professor Antonelli had just burdened them with an impossibly deep task. He approached the still-dazed lady of Adelaide, who stared blankly into space while biting her lip.
“And, student Laura von Adelaide.”
“...Yes.”
“If you wish to ask a question during class, the basic etiquette and manners demand raising your hand at an appropriate time and awaiting permission.”
Manners. Those words cut to the bone. Laura von Adelaide bit her lip harder.
“Your earlier behavior was not only disruptive but a direct challenge to the professor's authority. Isn't it?”
“Y-yes... it is.”
“Laura von Adelaide. You receive 10 demerit points.”
“......”
The cold verdict fell.
The classroom plunged into shock once more. The professor's stern punishment was one thing, but against the lady of Adelaide? Monumental.
At Caldea Imperial Academy, 50 demerit points triggered a disciplinary committee. And Laura von Adelaide had racked up 10 on her first class.
Ding—dong—
The bell signaling the end of class rang out. Yet no one rose.
“That concludes today's lesson. See you in three days for the next one.”
Only Professor Antonelli gathered his scriptures and theology texts, exiting leisurely as if nothing had happened.
The manifestation of Divine Power. Right after beholding that beautiful primordial divinity, the lady of Adelaide got 10 demerit points.
But most crucially, an assignment too profound for freshmen had been dropped on them.
Soon after, the Class A freshmen tore at their hair and wailed in chaos—a natural outcome.
All this unfolded on their first day at the academy, in their very first class.