‘If you don’t know, you get hit.’
A saying that was quite famous in my original world, though even that memory has now faded.
Because of its playful nuance, it’s often underestimated, but it’s never been wrong.
Without proper information about the opponent, you’re bound to be on the receiving end.
And in this world, where ignorance doesn’t just mean getting hit but possibly dying, the importance of that saying has only increased.
Therefore, ‘One must know everything they can.’
‘Not just know it, but use that knowledge to survive.’
***
“That is my opinion, Headmaster.”
Ainel, the headmaster, remained silent for a moment, perhaps impressed by my logical argument.
“If you think about it, all I really did was stretch out the simple statement that experiencing an actual battlefield is more effective than scribbling with a quill in an auditorium.”
Either way, it’s not wrong.
So, I waited expectantly, hoping to see the headmaster’s quill move—
To see her sign the documents I had just submitted.
However, contrary to my expectations, It seemed she still had lingering questions.
“Professor Letter.”
“Yes.”
“What kind of subject is Mana Design?”
“It is, as I understand, ‘a course that teaches how to construct intricate magic circles using mana as a material.’”
“You are well aware. Knowing this, then why… are you trying to take students to the battlefield? And to the North, no less?”
There was a faint sigh in her voice.
It seemed the headmaster’s condition hadn’t been great lately.
Every time I came to see her, her face had been dark.
Well, being a headmaster isn’t exactly an easy job.
I could understand that.
And she’s not young anymore, either.
With all the burdens of Primus weighing on her, it was only natural that her health would suffer.
But no matter how unwell the headmaster looked—
“The magic circles drawn on the battlefield and the ones drawn in the auditorium are different, Headmaster.”
As an educator, I had a duty to push forward for the students.
After all, both the headmaster and I shared the same role—to guide our students onto a better path.
That’s why I continued emphasizing to her the necessity of practical training.
Theory and real combat are different.
‘Hadn’t she seen for herself how flustered the students were during the last Leap of the Stage?’
“In real situations, anyone’s mind can go blank. Very few people can recall what they’ve learned and apply it without any confusion.”
Eventually, these students would end up on the battlefield.
This world isn’t peaceful enough to let the talented elites of Primus live in peace.
The Six-letter name, Primus, which was once a badge of pride in their school days, would become the most conspicuous target on the battlefield.
‘So shouldn’t they at least prepare?’
Even if it’s hard now, it’s better than dying.
“I ask that you allow the students this experience.”
I had to save as many as I could.
For the ones I had lost because of my own shortcomings.
Only then could I say I had even a shred of dignity left.
***
“I absolutely cannot approve of anything mandatory. This must remain entirely voluntary for the students.”
In the end, Ainel couldn’t completely overturn my proposal, but she set two conditions:
First, only students who voluntarily applied for the field training would be taken to the North.
Second, a separate exam must be prepared for those who did not participate in the training.
This was the headmaster’s last line of compromise.
The fact that I had already sent a letter to the White Lion’s leader—
And that I had practically used the recent Atar Academy Intrusion Incident as a justification to strong-arm them into agreement—
The fact that he was still maintaining his composure despite this absurd news was nothing short of a miracle.
Thus, the field training notice, drafted by me, was posted in the academy halls.
Anyone who knew the reality of the North would be taken aback—
Because the notice had been heavily downplayed and sugarcoated.
“Who in their right mind would go to the North?”
“I’d rather take the exam. How hard can a Mana Design test really be?”
The reactions of students passing by the notice were mostly along those lines.
The cheerful and upbeat wording of the notice only made it all the more unsettling.
However, for those who could apply—
That is, the students actually taking Mana Design—
It was a different story.
***
“The field training is entirely voluntary. I have no intention of penalizing anyone who chooses not to go.”
The same youthful face as always.
The same vast lecture platform as always.
The same densely filled blackboard as always.
The same calm voice as always.
“However, there were specific criteria that I originally planned to evaluate through the field training.”
The ever-familiar, slightly tiresome young professor continued, “There will be a separate exam for those who do not participate in the field training. It will be of a similar difficulty level.”
“Whether you go on the field training or not, your grades will not be unfairly affected.”
These words were simply a way of adhering to Ainel’s directive—
And at the same time, a promise to ensure the students had the freedom to choose.
But to the students sitting in the auditorium, It sounded like no choice at all.
The grueling field training in the North, Or an exam just as difficult as the training itself.
No matter what they picked, it was nothing more than choosing between two equally miserable options.
As their expressions grew increasingly grim, Their only real decision was this:
‘Would they rather suffer physically?’
‘Or mentally?’
There was no third option.
“Final confirmation of participants must be made by next Monday. Please take your time to think it through before deciding.”
Shortly after, the experiential learning application forms were distributed.
Before long, the students in the auditorium split into two groups—those who would rather roll around in the northern territories and fall ill for a few days, and those who would prefer a difficult exam over high-fiving a demon.
However, none of them truly knew much about the northern battlefield.
That was only natural.
There was no reason for students, who had yet to reach adulthood, to have ever set foot on the harsh northern front.
The little they did know about the north came entirely from unreliable rumors.
The students who chose the experiential learning option over the exam held similar thoughts.
They didn’t know much about the north, but they knew all too well about Letter’s lectures.
‘No matter what, it can’t be harder than sitting through those brutal lectures.’
That was the prevailing belief.
***
Time passed, and finally, Monday arrived—the deadline Letter had announced.
“Twenty-one students, huh…?”
It was fewer than Letter had expected.
However, it was more than Dean Ainel and the other professors had anticipated.
Among the applicants were also Irina and Evan, the teaching assistants.
It only made sense.
‘As assistants, shouldn’t they follow along, regardless of whether it was an experiential learning trip or something else?’
That thought wasn’t entirely absent from their minds.
“…Professor, we’re counting on you…”
“Don’t worry. None of the students will get hurt.”
‘Not as long as I’m alive.’
Letter spoke such chilling words with unsettling ease, prompting Irina to dry-wash her face several times out of nervousness.
To be honest, entrusting this entire northern expedition to a mere girl still felt like madness.
But in the end, it wasn’t confidence in the trip that made the decision for her.
She simply lacked confidence.
Confidence that she could score well enough on the exam to make up for missing the trip.
‘My sister is watching. My sister is watching. My sister is watching…’
No matter what, she couldn’t disgrace the name of the Ardenia imperial family.
And so, she boarded the train to the north.
And ended up seated in the same compartment as Letter.
***
“Belgarde, you go greet them.”
“What? But, Father… the successor to the northern lands isn’t me, it’s my brother—”
Belgarde Lionheart abruptly stopped speaking as he suddenly recalled the many grim rumors surrounding Atar Lionheart.
Even he had to admit—letting that battle-crazed man lead a group of Primus students was sheer lunacy.
Belgarde also understood that his presence as the second in line to succession might lead to misunderstandings if he were the one to greet the distinguished guests from Primus.
After all, it was an undeniable fact that it had been his brother, not him, who had once overcome the northern trials.
However, another fact remained—his father, Theodore Lionheart, the White Lion himself, couldn’t even control Atar.
For now, there was no other option but for Belgarde to handle the situation.
Thus, he dressed in formal attire, took steady steps forward, and came face to face with—
***
—Flutter.
A youthful face adorned with the crest of the ancient dragon.
“Professor Letter…?”
“…Hello.”
Honestly, if it weren’t for the crest, anyone could have mistaken her for one of the students.
It was only natural—after all, the youngest-looking member of the Primus delegation was none other than Letter herself.
At any rate, since he had greeted the guests, the next step was to guide them to their accommodations in the north.
“I’ll take you to your lodging—”
“Oh, that’s all right. We’ve brought our own.”
“…Brought your own? Lodging?”
The moment he saw the massive tents being unloaded, Belgarde could only stare in shock.
To put it bluntly, he was dumbfounded.
“We’ll sleep just like we would on an actual battlefield. If we’re warm and well-fed, there’s no point in coming all the way up here.”
“…Is she insane?”
Even though this was his first time meeting these students, he already felt deeply sorry for them.
He wanted to ask them how they had ended up entangled with such a crazy professor.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.