Basically, the instructors at the academy are busy.
Not only do they have to prepare for classes, but there’s also a hefty amount of paperwork to complete.
From lesson plans to budget allocations and work-related reports.
And let’s not forget the letters of understanding for instructors of other subjects to ensure smooth classes in the future.
Some might call it unnecessary, but adhering to these little courtesies is how smooth relationships are formed.
In reality, academy instructors spent their entire day sitting at their desks, immersed in paperwork.
However.
“Damn it! Hell! What the hell!”
It was a man, not an instructor, sitting at the desk and diligently working on papers.
Damian Pollet.
He was Lee Han’s temporary assistant for three years and was currently hard at work on paperwork in Lee Han’s stead.
‘That damn instructor!’
Though Damian had lived a life far from curses as an aristocratic young master, over the past week of only doing paperwork, he found himself cursing up a storm.
Just looking at the dark shadows under his eyes showed how much stress and fatigue he was enduring.
…In fact, he was quite exhausted.
It had already been over a week since he last used the dormitory.
‘Dormitory? What’s that? Did the academy even have one?’
Such nonsense sprang to mind without him even realizing it.
Originally a dormitory resident, Damian now found himself using the faculty lounge more frequently.
Though people could question how one could be so busy with paperwork that there was no time to head back to the dormitory, that couldn’t be helped.
During the day, he not only had to attend classes in the Swordsmanship Department but also take compulsory lectures, followed by serving the instructor—no simple task.
– “You should train too! Don’t pretend like this doesn’t concern you!”
The instructor, already treating him like a ball, tormented him under the pretense of training.
Because of that, Damian ended up being in a position where he had to serve and train simultaneously, and even when the classes eventually ended.
– “Am I the one doing this? No, you should be taking care of that.”
A stack of documents was pushed toward him.
Damian considered rebelling against this, but once he met the instructor’s gaze, he backed down.
Not following would probably lead to a physically painful situation.
Thus, it became his daily routine to take over the instructor’s paperwork, and during the time he spent handling assignments from other lectures, heading back to the dormitory felt like a waste.
At some point, Damian had practically begun living in the faculty lounge, becoming a sort of lingering spirit.
Initially, there were those who were taken aback by him settling in the faculty lounge, but now, no one among the instructors paid him any mind.
“Oh, the Swordsmanship Department instructor is impressive, securing a ‘trainee’ for himself already.”
“Haha, we see this every year but it’s still a fascinating sight. I wonder how long that trainee will last before dropping out?”
“Hmm, maybe he won’t make it past this semester?”
This was already a familiar sight to the faculty.
The sight of a trainee settling in the lounge and working.
Damian felt a chill run down his spine.
He’d heard from numerous upperclassmen that many had successfully escaped (dropped out), but that was impossible for him.
Three years.
He was destined to be a lifelong slave—no, trainee—for those three years.
“Damn it…”
Cursing once more, Damian’s eyes grew moist.
“-How did Damian Pollet end up like that?”
A cadet with dull gray hair discreetly observed the faculty room, blinking his eyes.
This was not part of the ‘predestined chapter’.
Damian Pollet was not supposed to be like that.
“Why is he not a follower of Irene Windler, but working as a trainee?”
The cadet with gray hair thought to himself.
Something was wrong.
This wasn’t the planned story.
Something had gone awry.
“Why? Where did it go wrong…?”
The gray-haired cadet continued to ponder, and then…
“Cader, what are you doing there?”
“Y-yes?!”
“You seem to be talking to yourself, is something the matter?”
“N-no, not at all.”
“Is that so? Ah! Are you perhaps interested in being a trainee? If that’s the case, I highly recommend our History Department trainee! It’s a rewarding department where new material emerges every year!”
“Uh, no, um…”
“Come on! Let’s talk about the wonderful aspects of the History Department together!”
“Uh…”
The gray-haired cadet seemed to have some sort of communication barrier and appeared to have stumbled upon a rather energetic, if not slightly insane, professor from the History Department.
—
That day, the gray-haired cadet inadvertently found himself held captive for an astonishing five hours, listening to the reasons why he should become a trainee in the History Department.
* * *
A week into the semester, though short, could feel like an eternity to someone.
In that regard, Lee Han was convinced that his experience in the Swordsmanship Department during that week was more intense than in any other department.
“I had no idea teaching kids could be this tough.”
It was a moment when he found himself respecting the teachers who had instructed him in his past life.
Ah, but some teachers were exceptions.
Those rotten fellows who didn’t deserve the title of ‘teacher.’
“…If I met them now, I’d have killed them.”
“T-turtle sir.”
“Yes?”
“…Um, don’t you think your thoughts are a bit too loud?”
“……Ah.”
Only then did Lee Han recall that he had attended a faculty meeting.
Some were looking at him with trembling eyes, perhaps having heard his mutterings.
‘…Guess I’ve been officially ostracized.’
Humbly acknowledging his mistake, Lee Han swallowed his words.
He hadn’t meant to.
Lee Han decided to try explaining himself.
“…When I said ‘kill,’ I didn’t mean it like that. It just reminded me of some rather unnatural things.”
“I-I see.”
“I swear it’s true.”
“Uh-huh….”
There wasn’t even a hint of belief in their expressions.
—
The conference room was fairly large, filled with instructors, professors, and lecturers.
A total of 112 people.
Including that passionate dean who was currently delivering a lengthy speech, that made it 113.
“-Dear esteemed colleagues, I am grateful for your presence. It is because of your outstanding talents that we are able to produce excellent cadets, who must serve as valuable treasures for our country. Speaking of treasures, back during my time in the Ministry…”
That person seemed to be living in another world.
He had promised only a brief welcoming speech and yet had been at it for the last hour.
‘Didn’t he just say that line a moment ago?’
Listening to an oddly repetitive discourse, Lee Han diverted his attention to the faculty member who had spoken to him.
“Um, is this what meetings are usually like?”
“…Well, essentially it’s just listening to the dean’s talk. Suggestions or issues are usually directed to the vice dean.”
The nameless faculty member still wore a fearful expression, but fortunately, they were a decent person who diligently responded to him.
“So, can I just leave if I want?”
“Well, professors often tend to skip out. They usually have so much research to handle that the dean understands. However, if you’re not one of those high-ranking individuals, you should probably stick around.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the dean is a former minister. He still has the recognition of a current high-ranking official.”
“…Ah.”
That made sense.
Who in their right mind would dare to offend one of the top five powerholders in the kingdom, regardless of their past?
…But there was someone who had crossed that line during the entrance ceremony.
‘Oh, that would be me?’
Hmm….
“Haha, don’t worry too much. The dean doesn’t really pay attention to small matters.”
“You just damaged the podium, though?”
“…I shouldn’t say this, but accidents happen every three years or so. In other words, occasional minor incidents are a thing.”
“……”
…So other seniors had experienced this too.
A strange sense of camaraderie came over him, along with a warm smile.
Indeed, when someone gets angry, it seems throwing something is a universal response no matter where you are.
I wasn’t alone in this.
“…Still, could you please be careful next time? I rebuilt that podium.”
“Oh, you did? Thank you! Um…may I ask your name?”
“Han Schmidt. I’m the instructor from the Metallurgy Department and the vice leader of the Metallurgy Guild.”
“You’re quite impressive.”
“Haha, it’s nothing special.”
Nothing special my foot.
Just because ‘Han’ is a common name doesn’t mean you should underestimate it.
Being the vice leader of the Metallurgy Guild means he’s at least a top-tier craftsman.
In the world of blade users, you always have to network and make connections.
This academy really is entertaining.
‘The person sitting next to me is a top Blacksmith? This is fantastic.’
It’s like having a coworker who is a master craftsman.
Lee Han chuckled at the situation.
“By the way, do you know any glass artisans? I’ve recently run out of dishware and need something sturdy.”
“…You’re an interesting person. Most knights ask me to make swords when they see me.”
“A sword is just a sword. As long as it cuts well and is sturdy, that’s all that matters. There’s no point in using an expensive one just to lose it or break it.”
“……You’re truly unique, heh.”
He wasn’t like those noisy folks who always asked for swords.
And this perspective led Hans to think that Lee Han wasn’t as wild as he first seemed.
“So, can you introduce me to a glass artisan or not?”
“…If you buy me a meal later, I’ll introduce you.”
“Whatever you want.”
Lee Han and Hans lightly fist-bumped.
He had successfully made some connections.
Then he thought,
“Speaking of which, Instructor Hans, I have something I’m curious about. Can I ask just one question?”
“Feel free to ask anything.”
“There’s someone staring at me since earlier; who is that person?”
Lee Han casually inquired, still maintaining his smile.
Hans smiled wryly at that.
I guess he had confirmed the face he was pointing at.
“…Hmm. Please tell me you haven’t offended that person in any way.”
“Not at all; it’s the first time meeting them today.”
“……In that case, it’s best to avoid them.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, that person is…”
As Hans continued his explanation,
“…I see.”
A cold sneer crept to Lee Han’s lips, and he pretended to cover his nose with one hand.
‘Should’ve known the nauseating stench was coming from nearby…’
─Hah.
There was a Spellcaster around.
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