The Mad Seat Scramble and the Snide Marquis Heiress's Taunt
The chaos of the great insane seat battle and the annoying Marquis lady's provocation had swept through Classroom 1-1 of the first-years like a storm. While Chloe scurried back to her seat like she was fleeing for her life, and Julian floundered alone in a swamp of inexplicable misconceptions, all my nerves were focused on the blind spot under the desk.
"Student. Let go. Blood's not circulating."
Propping my chin, pretending to look forward, I whispered just with my lips. My right hand was perfectly shackled under the desk by Reina's two hands. Not content with intertwining every rough knuckle of my fingers with her smooth leather-gloved hands that she always wore, she had even dragged it onto her thigh and was fiddling with it.
"No way. That Marquis bitch just picked a fight with you earlier. I barely held back from slicing her up because you grabbed my hand—if you let go now, I might seriously go draw my holy sword."
"Haa… I've told you a hundred times no school violence. Who are you gonna slice, you ain't the butcher from Majang-dong. And squeezing tight is fine, but these leather gloves are making my hand sweat and it's gross."
"It's not my sweat. It's yours, Cadel. I love your sweat—it's sweet."
"Aigoo, you little… Act like a normal high school girl for once. Teacher's gonna keel over."
"Teacher my ass. You're my Cadel. Look at me, Cadel. Huh?"
Ignoring others' stares by a millimeter, Reina rubbed her cheek against my shoulder with a languid voice. That suffocating beauty assaulting me up close made my 17-year-old body tense reflexively, but the worn-out reason of a ten-year veteran K-high school teacher barely grabbed the reins and held on. This was the first school commute day in my past or present life that drained my energy like this.
As my eyelids grew heavy from hitting my vitality limit, sleepiness crashing down just as I started nodding off—
Kiiiek—.
The heavy sound of the premium hardwood classroom door at the front creaking open rang out. The murmurs of the noble brats filling the room cut off instantly.
"Alright, everyone quiet down and take your seats."
It was a voice cracked dry without a hint of moisture, laced with a metallic rasp like it might shatter any second. I barely lifted my heavy eyelids to gaze at the man trudging up to the podium.
There stood a man in his late twenties who looked utterly haggard and ragged for an "elite professor of the Imperial Academy" in his flashy gold-trimmed uniform. Uncombed gray hair in disarray. Skin pallid like he hadn't seen sunlight in days. But what stole the gaze most were the deep, dark circles running from under his sunken eyes all the way to his jawline.
In one hand, a tattered attendance ledger; in the other, a glass vial clutched like a lifeline, filled with some murky green liquid.
Whoa… Is that our homeroom teacher? Why's his face so rotten?
I thought a zombie had shambled onto the podium. No sooner had he reached it than he habitually brought the green bottle to his lips for a swig without catching his breath. Then he scrunched his brow, pounding his chest with a fist to suppress the dry heaves.
The distance was decent, but my nose caught the identity of that bottle instantly. It was definitely low-grade mana recovery potion—the ultra-bitter elixir that overworked office drones chug like caffeine IVs to survive chronic fatigue.
"Cough. Nice to meet you all. I'm Arthur Pendleton, the assistant professor who'll be your homeroom teacher for the next year and teach Basic Combat Magic."
Arthur's hollow, unfocused gray eyes scanned the classroom. Heir to the core Emperor faction houses, Julian the successor to the noble faction leader, and Reina, the empire's top sword effortlessly emanating natural disaster-level killing intent. His gaze swept over sixteen of the empire's top VVIPs—walking nukes—and with my ten years as a K-teacher, it wasn't the authority of an elite educator or teaching passion.
That's… 100% the face of the poor guy dragged to the principal's office: "You're young, nothing to lose, so take this problem class." Yeah.
His bleary pupils brimmed with the thick resignation of a low-rank employee forced into unwanted duty: Please, no incidents until my lifeline holds.
The empire's top academy, and not even a full professor but an "assistant"? I could picture the crap this mage got and how he drew the short straw without seeing it.
Tsk tsk. Teacher's face all wrecked like that. Does he even eat?
It overlapped a bit with my own pathetic past, chugging antacids as a senior-year homeroom teacher fielding parent complaints daily. I wanted to dash out, shove a warm bottle of hot herbal soup in his hands, and console him—but that was it. My own nose was stuffy; no bandwidth to dig into someone else's dark circles. Just placating the beast squeezing my right hand was evaporating my life force in real time.
"Since it's the first period, we'll skip long talks and head straight to Training Ground 1. Light evaluation of your mana and aura control levels, so change into training uniforms and gather at the center."
Even during that brief instruction, Arthur rubbed his face repeatedly like he was running out of steam.
Training Ground 1 was absurdly massive—hard to believe it was indoors. The packed dirt floor spanned hundreds of pyeong, dotted with dozens of sturdy steel training dummies reinforced with high-density magic, spaced widely apart. Morning sun poured through the massive dome glass ceiling, but the air thrummed with eerie tension.
The sixteen students gathered at the wide center. Arthur, still ashen-faced, clutched his ragged clipboard and began directing.
"Evaluation prioritizes safety: pairs, basic test releasing controllable mana or aura at the dummies. Waiters stay behind the safety line at the back, especially…"
Reciting precautions, Arthur's weary gaze halted on me, stuck right next to Reina at the group's edge.
"You there, special enrollee Evans."
"Yes? Oh, yes."
"As the Duchess's exclusive squire accompanying her enrollment, no need to participate in combat training. Plus, this'll soon be a hazardous zone with high-power mana and aura clashing."
Arthur pointed to the rear with his clipboard—a considerate, textbook teacher move for us "non-combatants."
"Even basic eval, a non-combatant like you could get seriously hurt swept up in high nobles' aura clashes. Evans, sit safely in the designated observer seats back there."
He indicated a plush observer bench ten meters from our central eval zone, with safety barriers.
For a second, I doubted my ears. Then a thrilling joy hit like ten-year heartburn vanishing.
Crazy! PE excused! Official, teacher-ordered legal opt-out!
No need to awkwardly swing swords or spells among VVIP noble brats, choking on dirt. My dark-circle-zombie homeroom suddenly looked like an angel from heaven.
"Yes, Professor! Deeply grateful for your excellent consideration. As you said, I'll stay out of the way, super safe in the back!"
I answered without looking back, then tapped Reina's shoulder—she was furrowing her brow in displeasure—and whispered.
"Student, I'm heading back there to rest, so blast your aura and have fun alone. No incidents."
Whistling lightly, I scampered to the observer seats ten meters back. Ah, my first taste of solo free time in ages. Plopping into the cushy seat behind the barrier, leaning back comfortably—
Wooddrack—.
A faint but chillingly dull, repulsive cracking sound traveled through the training ground floor right to my toes ten meters away.
"…Huh?"
I froze mid-whistle, sprawled relaxed.
At the center: Reina, who'd been meekly beside me moments ago, head drooped toward the floor. Her cascading silver hair hid her icy expression perfectly, but my ten-year-honed teacher survival instinct screamed warnings up my spine.
Her gloved hands slowly clenched. Then the entire training ground's air sank sticky and heavy like a swamp.
She had zero intention of controlling or hiding her displeasure.
My eagle eyes, catching back-row gum-chewers from the desk, perfectly read her lips flickering through the silver strands.
[That dark-circle bastard… dared to take my Cadel from me.]
A soundless, perfect death sentence.
Boom—!
The training ground air plummeted like crushed by a massive iron weight.
"Kugh…!"
"Aaaah!"
Screams and groans erupted ten meters ahead at the center. The haughty VVIP noble brats, chins high moments ago, dropped to knees or sprawled flat.
Grind, crunch!
The "high-density magic" steel dummies crumpled grotesquely like empty cans crushed by invisible hands. Marble floor spiderwebbed with cracks screaming, dust slammed down making breathing hard.
Arthur, closest, was a wreck: collapsed ashen, hands on floor, retching.
The chronic-fatigue adjunct prof's lifeline was seconds from snapping.
Damn. This problem child finally caused an incident on day one!
I sprang from the observer seat like a spring.
Agh, I'm so conditioned. Repair bill for that floor'll uproot my baron's foundation!
Tears of blood internally, I strode into the brutal gravity field where everyone gasped face-down.
High nobles puking blood-pressure, yet a low-mana baron's son charging through—a bizarre sight, but repair worries blinded me to it. I just shallowly assumed she instinctively eased off toward me.
"Student! Stop! Halt!"
I bolted to the center, burrowing beside head-drooped Reina, seizing her rising gloved hands with my rough ones, interlocking tight.
"…!"
The moment I entered a meter—no, ten centimeters—and gripped hard, the floor-shattering gravity evaporated clean.
"Cadel…."
Reina slowly lifted her head. Those murderously purple eyes, drilling the floor, softened like spring melt at me.
As if never angry, she purred at the warmth over her gloves.
"Haa…."
Air pressure normalizing, ragged breaths exploded everywhere. I sweated cold viewing the wrecked floor and crumpled dummies. This path led to Reina's expulsion and me buried in bills on day one.
Mustering my ten-year K-teacher survival instinct soul-deep, I flashed a grin at collapsed Arthur and shouted.
"Professor! You okay? Must've been shocked!"
"E-Evans…? What was that overwhelming pressure just…."
"Ahaha! You spotted it right away, Professor! Yes! Her Highness the Duchess was just doing 'extreme mana control training'!"
I shook Reina's hand up-down vigorously, spouting bold nonsense.
"This is a hazardous training ground with high-power mana clashes, right? So Her Highness placed her frailest charge—me—just ten centimeters away, perfectly directing force to spare me a single hair! Ultra-high-difficulty training, aced!"
"Con, control training…?"
"Exactly! See, this weak low-rank baron stands unscathed! So I must stick as Her Highness's stellar 'mana control target' all class! If I stray ten meters… her power balance crumbles, control fails!"
My brazen fluent shield blanketed the training ground in weird silence.
"My god…."
First reactor: near-dead homeroom Arthur Pendleton. Trembling, he adjusted glasses, gaping at Reina and me alternately.
Agh, poor adjunct teacher. Freaked thinking he'd get fired day one.
I tsked internally at his blank face, but his hollow eyes burned with deep awe and academic fascination toward me. Not relief—more "Such an insane training method exists?!" But life-beaten me had no bandwidth for that delusion.
And that delusion vortex spread to Julian von Vander, noble faction heir panting behind a mana shield in the corner.
He stared at me pale as a hell demon sighting.
Aigoo. Top-student young master turns ghost-white from a bit of aura. Greenhouse flower.
"Cadel. Did I do good?"
Reina leaned on my shoulder, smiling languidly. Smiling innocently after wrecking the floor, unconcerned with lives—while I eyed the trembling brats, whispering tiredly.
"Yeah. Suu~per good. I'll stick right by you, so please rein in that killer aura. Our dark-circle teacher's lifeline's snapping."
"Okay. If you keep gripping my hand like this, I'll stay put and no killing."
Her fingers entwining mine inside the glove, she beamed the world's most ecstatic smile. Not childish whining—a predator's leisure securing her spoil from her rampage(?).
Crisis of debt mountain and school violence averted. I vowed to buy that poor adjunct teacher cabbage juice for heartburn on tomorrow's commute. In this brutal academy, us K-workers crushed by bosses and problem kids gotta stick together, right?