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Chapter 233
“Next. Cadet Basel.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Perhaps because of the two previous examples, the nervous Basel cautiously stepped forward.
“Take this.”
I handed him beads with holes, a thread, and a needle.
“Your task is to string the beads quickly.”
Naturally, it wasn’t sothing that could be done easily through normal ans.
Besides that, I gave tasks to Garon, Holton, Galleon, Micellia Basilis, Radian Ginebuck, Enmi, and Carilde Bernine as well.
Everyone was assigned their own task.
Then, I set up two sunbeds I had prepared in advance, placed so fruit drinks on the side table, and laid down leisurely.
Luna lay down leisurely on the sunbed next to mine.
These kids aren’t lacking in talent.
They’re just using the wrong approach.
The effects will show, even if slowly.
However, while we conducted our training quietly and gradually, the academy was showing signs of a huge explosion brewing.
It began on the second day after the new cadets arrived.
And for teenage boys and girls, who are at the height of self-absorption, the academy becos a place where they overestimate their own abilities.
So, it didn’t take long before the academy beca rather noisy.
At first, they wondered, “Is this really training?”—but not anymore.
“Uuuggghhh!! Grrrgh!!!”
Romo was stretching while wearing restraints made of aura stones.
With bloodshot eyes, Lydia muttered blankly to herself while placing her hand on an upside-down sheet of paper and reciting sothing rapidly.
Basel was twisting his whole body as he tried to string the beads with the needle and thread.
Micellia Basilis was off to the side, practicing high notes by amplifying her voice with aura.
The common point among all of them was that the thought “this doesn’t feel like training” had long since disappeared from their faces.
Their expressions, which looked like they might drop dead at any mont, proved it.
To an outsider, their actions probably looked bizarre.
In fact, the academy's practical classes usually involved dueling or field training to build real-world combat sense.
Honestly, from my perspective, I couldn’t think of a better way to enhance specific abilities than this, which is why I designed it—and also used to do it myself.
But the academy didn’t seem to understand the hidden effectiveness within this madness.
It was probably just a difference in thods.
And because they weren’t testing it on their own bodies but on others, it was even harder to grasp the results clearly.
With ten cadets performing such bizarre acts in one place, rumors quickly spread through the academy in just two days.
Maybe because of that, by the ti the sun was setting, there were students who ca just to watch the others repeat the sa training and rest in turns.
Of course, most of the emotions mixed into their stares were negative, like:
"No matter what those flunkies try, it’s useless."
"What the hell are they doing?"
"Are they planning to beco clowns after they leave the academy?"
Perhaps the ones doing the training were the most disheartened and doubtful from hearing those whispers.
Because they hadn’t seen any results yet.
But to and Luna, we could already see the deficiencies in them gradually being filled, and their bad habits being corrected.
Slightly—but within a month, it would beco noticeably effective.
Let’s say there’s equipnt that boosts your strength by 500.
But the condition to use that equipnt is that the wearer must be at least 180cm tall.
These kids are like people trying to use that equipnt without being 180cm yet.
In other words, in order for them to be rewarded for all the effort they’ve put in so far, we need to help them grow to 180cm first.
In these past two days, all I did was lie on a sunbed, watching their struggle or taking naps.
Maybe because of that, it was only natural that their frustration slowly began to build.
It was when they dragged their exhausted bodies from the early-morning training to the cadet dining hall inside the academy for a al.
While lying back leisurely, I observed and listened to their conversations perfectly through undead wraiths I had hidden in their shadows.
Even though it had only been two days, perhaps due to the shared hardship, they silently gathered at the sa table to eat.
“My arms are numb.”
“My back feels like it’s going to snap. You know what’s even more annoying? No matter how bad it hurts, I feel fine again after so ti.”
“You guys had it easy. I got told sothing about physical therapy and then got completely wrecked by the assistant professor.”
Assistant professor.
The one they called that was none other than Luna.
Even though she was technically a temporary instructor, they found it awkward to call her otherwise, so they called ‘Professor’ and her ‘Assistant Professor’.
The one speaking now had serious physical issues from sothing that happened in childhood.
Though he was from a noble family, it was from a minor kingdom much smaller than Bata, a humble baron household.
Apparently, he had been abused as a child, and his body was ruined.
He was a kid who wouldn’t be able to grow properly no matter what unless he was treated first, so I had activated his blood vessels under the guise of physical therapy.
He was also one of the ones who showed effects rather quickly.
Still, since they hadn’t seen tangible results yet, they were understandably skeptical.
“Does this really even work...?”
“No idea. But we’ve got no way out now.”
“Let’s wait a few more days.”
Micellia Basilis, from a viscount family, said quietly.
“If it still feels like a waste of ti after that, we’ll bring it up then.”
“I guess, but... to be honest, I just don’t trust that professor. What kind of training is this? And isn’t he not even that much older than us? Even if he’s skilled, teaching others requires experience.”
“Yeah, being strong and being a good teacher are different. Isn’t he being overrated a bit?”
The others nodded in agreent.
That’s when it happened.
“What’s this? All the rejects gathered for a little group eting or sothing?”
“You didn’t hear? They got thrown into the flunk-out class. If they fail again in this term’s evaluations, they’re expelled.”
“What? Pffft—hahaha!”
Despite the cold stares sent their way, the students who were provoking them didn’t stop, raising their voices for all to hear.
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“There must be total rookies among the freshn too. If the so-called seniors lose to those baby chicks, now that would be sothing.”
“Quiet. It’s rude to say such things in a communal dining space.”
Micellia Basilis, ever the viscount's daughter, protested.
They just shrugged in response.
“If it were , I’d be too embarrassed to even show my face. I’d have dropped out already.”
“Did you guys see how those losers train? One guy’s threading a needle through beads, another’s stretching all day long, and so chick’s flipping cards.”
“Pwahaha! What, are they prepping for a clown show? Well, I guess with that level of skill, being a rcenary won’t work out, so they might as well learn to be clowns.”
Laughter erupted not just from them but from others nearby who overheard.
Naturally, the failing cadets trembled in anger, unable to contain their frustration.
“What? Angry? Then request a spar. Once the paperwork clears, I’ll give you a shot.”
“……”
“Can’t do that, can you? Figures. That’s your level.”
The sneering laughter was growing louder.
Then—
“That’s not sothing I can just ignore, Senior.”
At the sudden voice, everyone’s attention turned to the group entering the cafeteria.
The boy who had been mocking the failures flinched as he tried to respond with irritation.
And for good reason—he was being looked down upon by a tall, imposing boy with a cold stare.
The newcor was easily over two ters tall, had solid muscles, and carried a massive spear on his back.
The cadets instinctively realized who he was.
He was from the House of Spear, one of the 13 great families of the continent, hailing from Basilum—a powerful nation beneath the Great Forest in the heart of the central continent.
He was Basara Krevad, grandson of the Spear Saint, a warrior who stood on par with the Sword Saint Osberg.
Beside him were several other new cadets who emanated an intimidating level of aura far beyond what one would expect from rookies.
“No way… That’s Basara Krevad, the grandson of the Spear Saint…”
“Do you see him? That kid next to him is the youngest son of the Honteil family—the magical bloodline.”
“The rumored genius? Unreal…”
“This year’s freshn are insane.”
Their re presence exuded enough pressure to crush everyone in the cafeteria.
“Isn’t it quite disrespectful for seniors to treat juniors that way just because they’re new?”
Basara lightly tapped the senior cadet’s shoulder as he asked, making the boy tremble and avert his gaze.
“I… I-I’m sorry.”
“Please be cautious. I may be unfamiliar with academy life and could accidentally offend you seniors.”
Despite his polite tone, the atmosphere was chilling.
The upperclassn were overwheld in an instant.
That’s how strong Basara’s presence was.
And now that even the youngest son of the Honteil family—a magic-based great house—had shown up, things were far from settling down.
“Wasn’t the candidate for the World Tree’s Representative from the Great Forest supposed to arrive too?”
“Probably joining later. Like the Saintess.”
“The Saintess? She’s coming too?”
“Heard a rumor that soone from the Holy Kingdom is also attending.”
The murmurs grew louder, and so students began to gather, eager to interact with these heirs from the 13 great families.
“Let’s go. Ti to train.”
The failing cadets, who had been silently observing, finished their als and stood up with their trays.
Just then—
“Kyah!”
Ludia, a magic cadet with a tired expression, bumped into a senior and fell down.
At the sa ti, her tray went flying straight toward Basara.
“Ah!?”
She let out a short scream, startled.
Thud!
But the expected ss never happened.
Basara’s aura exploded around him and deflected the tray midair.
“Tch. Blocking the way and making a damn ss.”
The senior who collided with Ludia muttered in annoyance without even an apology.
Still sitting on the floor in a daze, Ludia locked eyes with Basara for a mont.
Amidst the confusion, a voice cut in.
“Hey, you okay, junior?”
The upperclassman who had pushed Ludia asked her if she was fine.
Basara simply shrugged.
“That’s an unnecessary concern. But—who is she?”
“Oh, don’t mind her. Just a loser from the bottom class. And a commoner too.”
“……”
“Still, I guess she’s technically your competitor for the upcoming placent exam.”
“Competitor…”
“You heard of him? That Leon Cascadia from the Kingdom of Bata—the one with all the rumors? He’s supposedly teaching those losers as a temporary instructor.”
At the sneering senior’s words, Basara’s gaze turned ice-cold.
It was like a rabbit eting a tiger.
Ludia trembled.
“Hmph… Seems Grandfather can be wrong sotis too.”
And with that, Basara walked away like nothing happened.
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