First Class (3)
“Phew… I nearly passed out right there in the classroom.”
After my self-introduction, thunderous applause erupted out of nowhere, startling me. I almost instinctively ducked behind the lectern.
The roar of curved artillery fire, the crack of gunfire blasting right next to my ears. All those whipping sounds, starting with the clapping, kept dragging up bad memories. To me, those popping noises were pure agony.
At the entrance ceremony, I'd just taken my meds, so it was fine. But not now.
My steps toward the academy cafeteria felt heavy. I readjusted the thick theology tomes in my left hand. Cold sweat had beaded on my forehead before I knew it.
“Handkerchief… handkerchief… oh.”
As I fumbled in my pocket with my right hand for the handkerchief, my arm began to tremble and stiffen. It slipped from my grasp and fell to the floor.
“…Damn it.”
My right arm shook relentlessly. Reflexively, I clamped it down with my left hand. Naturally, the theology books tumbled from my left onto the floor in a heap.
Leaning awkwardly against the wall, pressing down on my arm, passing students shot me strange looks.
After holding it like that for a bit, the searing pain in my right arm began to subside. I let out a sigh and gathered the scattered books.
Clutching the theology tomes to my chest, I bent to pick up the fallen handkerchief—
Swoosh—
Navy-blue braided hair flickered before my eyes. A pale hand snatched up the handkerchief I'd been reaching for and handed it to me.
“Professor Lucio. Are you alright?”
The savior who appeared before me like a guardian angel was my academy lunch buddy, Professor Esther Garrett.
“Thanks for earlier.”
“No problem. But… what was that all about?”
I set down my fork and met Professor Esther's gaze. Her mysterious purple eyes bored into me.
“What do you mean?”
“I was walking down the opposite hallway when suddenly there you were, making a scene in the corridor. I got worried something happened.”
“A scene…”
I made a troubled face. Professor Esther giggled like a mischievous kid.
“Hehe… just kidding. Kidding.”
“No, you’re right. I did make a scene.”
“Huh? I said it was a joke!”
“Got it. Understood.”
“So, what really happened?”
“……”
It was a wound from the Great War. Shrapnel from a shell had lodged in my shoulder. The nerves and fascia in my right shoulder were damaged, leaving me with a permanent disability.
…No way in hell I could say that. Just thinking about it made the meal in my stomach churn.
“Just… a sudden cramp.”
“…Hmmm.”
“It’s true.”
Professor Esther eyed me dubiously, chewing her chicken slowly. Her fork moved to the salad plate next.
“…Fine, let’s leave it at that. Guess it’s not the right time yet.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
She munched her salad like a rabbit, took a sip of water, then pointed at the stack of theology books by my plate.
“Anyway, how was your first class?”
“Impressions, you mean?”
What impressions? That I nearly pissed myself from the applause?
I furrowed my brow and asked back. Professor Esther shrugged.
“Well, it was a class at Caldea Imperial Academy. Even I, coming from a provincial academy, broke out in a cold sweat. The students’ questions are on another level. I had to up the difficulty so much…”
“…Are you sure we’re at the same academy?”
“Pardon?”
Her words brought to mind Laura von Adelaide, smirking obnoxiously. The Adelaide lady who spat venomous questions at me with inexplicable hostility.
Questions on another level… yeah.
I could agree to an extent. Though Professor Esther meant it positively.
“It was manageable. Preparing the lesson wasn’t too tough.”
“Impressive. Other professors are still sweating bullets over exam questions every term.”
“I’m nothing special. Can’t compare to them.”
Professor Esther narrowed her eyes at me. Puzzled, I held her gaze until she looked away with a sigh.
“…Professor Lucio, you need more confidence.”
“Do I?”
“This is Caldea Imperial Academy! It churns out imperial elites yearly, and nobles from neighboring countries beg to enroll. You’re starting your career here—need I say more?”
I knew the academy’s prestige well. But I still couldn’t fathom why I got hired.
Recalling the interview, my demeanor hadn’t been great. I’d figured I had no shot.
The only surprise was President Damian already knowing my war record before I mentioned it.
“Huh… yeah. Looking back, it’s absurd. How did I even get hired?”
“Nooo… I said build confidence, not crawl into a hole…”
Professor Esther poked at her salad, deflated. I watched her a moment, then picked up my half-eaten plate and stood.
“Sorry, I should head out.”
“Huh? Why? You haven’t finished…”
“Lost my appetite. And I need to check the Academy Cathedral.”
“Oh… right.”
Come to think of it, even as chief priest, I hadn’t visited yet. Lunch break had time left, so I figured I’d stroll over.
“Th-then I’ll come too! Wait! I’m almost done…!”
“…Take your time.”
I cleared my spot and walked out slowly. Professor Esther, cheeks puffed with food, hurried after me.
“Ah, duh! My hat!”
“……”
She’d left her witch hat at the table—a minor delay ensued.
Professor Esther and I strolled the grounds outside the Academy Cathedral. Benches dotted the area for resting, and the landscaping was impeccably beautiful.
“It’s huge. Even compared to city center cathedrals, this is something else.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. Having a dedicated cathedral for an academy is unreal to begin with.”
Caldea Imperial Academy. As the empire’s premier institution, its grounds were unimaginably vast.
Naturally, such a massive site warranted its own academy cathedral.
“Seriously. At my old academy, no cathedral meant theology professors and students suffered. They were so inconvenienced.”
“I see…”
After wandering a bit, we stepped inside.
The cathedral’s grandest space revealed itself first.
“The chapel, I presume.”
“Wow…”
Stained glass filtered sunlight into a rainbow of colors, blending with the serene atmosphere to evoke awe.
Several clerics in priestly robes and theology students prayed within. The robed ones were likely other theology professors.
As Professor Esther and I entered, a few glanced over and nodded politely. I nodded back quietly.
Though appointed chief priest, the existing theology staff didn’t seem jealous. More like indifference.
Chief priest here meant wrangling endless incidents from rowdy students—not a dream gig. A camaraderie among peers, perhaps.
“I’ll head to the chief priest’s office. Professor Esther…”
“C-can I even go in there?”
“Professor Esther. I’m the chief priest here.”
“…Oh.”
Her ears flushed red at her own silly question.
I chuckled softly and walked on. No need to disturb the prayers.
Soon, on the second floor, we found the office. I reached for the handle—
— …fill our souls with grace, and to the Lord who saved us…
“…Hm?”
“What’s wrong?”
A strange murmur leaked from inside. I paused; Professor Esther peeked curiously.
“…Don’t you hear that?”
“Hear what… oh?”
— …Today we meet our chief priest for the first time. Praying for the one who will steadfastly uphold this Academy Cathedral…
“Someone? No, that’s… praying?”
Someone was praying inside. I clicked my tongue and flung the door open.
“Grant us Your gracious blessings today as well… eek!”
In the center, a girl on her knees looked up in shock. Shouldn’t I be the shocked one?
I studied her face. Golden bob haircut to her shoulders, emerald-green eyes clear as gems. Below, black deaconess robes with a white stole.
“…What? Professor Lucio, know her?”
Professor Esther pressed close, questioning. Even if she asked me…
“…Who might you be?”
A total stranger.
“I don’t know who you are, but this is the chief priest’s office. You can’t just barge in.”
“…Are you Senior Priest Lucio Antonelli?”
“Yes. And you, sister?”
Not a student, so I added the honorific. The diagonal white stole over black robes marked a deaconess.
She cleared her throat, hands on hips, declaring proudly.
“I’m Deaconess Sophia, assigned as your personal deacon! I was cleaning up and saying grace before lunch when you arrived!”
Her youthful face suggested freshly adult, likely ordained right after Holy Nation seminary. Grace before lunch?
“…Grace before lunch?”
“Yes!”
She beamed energetically. I eyed her hands warily.
She clutched a hunk of hard black bread.
“…Is that your lunch?”
“Yes!”
Her chipper reply made me slap my forehead.
“Why not eat at the cafeteria…”
“W-well… on the way from the Holy Nation, I lost my deaconess appointment letter… Unverified outsiders can’t eat there…”
“…Let’s go to the cafeteria first.”
We headed back.
A torturer had arrived, my gut screamed.