Ch.22Chapter 22

The class had 40 students in total. So the number of people I needed to memorize… wasn’t quite 40. Those who didn’t feel the need to make their names known to me weren’t wearing name tags.

When I finished writing them all down, it was just over half. Still, around twenty names seemed like quite a lot, making it difficult to memorize them all.

I had thought it would be easy to remember people because of their colorful hair, but now I realized that even the colors had their own uniqueness, making it increasingly difficult. I furrowed my brow and struggled to write down the names.

Whenever I forgot how to read one, Iris, who was sitting next to me, would carefully pronounce it for me.

“—So, the hypothesis is that Demon Gods are born when mana and consciousness gather together and begin to form a sense of self.”

The Professor continued her lecture enthusiastically throughout. She handed out numerous papers she had brought as materials to the students, but never once referred to them herself while lecturing.

I wondered if such content was already engraved in her mind. It made me think that not just anyone could become a professor.

Although I couldn’t recognize the letters, I found myself unconsciously drawn into the lecture.

“Dense mana, plus consciousness. The moment they combine and self-awareness emerges is what we consider the birth of a Demon God. That’s why they possess unique powers that aren’t constrained by the limitations of humans, elves, or other races.”

The Professor hurriedly wrote something on the blackboard.

“While mana has its existing forms, research papers show that it condenses differently depending on terrain and region. Studies have revealed differences between Demon Gods born in snowy mountains versus those born in volcanoes. Their attributes differ as well.”

I fixed my gaze on her, entranced as if listening to a goblin with a bag full of stories.

So does that mean this body’s form could be determined by the region where it was born?

“Professor, does that mean Demon Gods establish their identity after forming self-awareness, understanding their characteristics, and defining themselves?”

A student raised their hand, gained permission to speak, and asked the question. The Professor nodded and answered.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

The students began to stir. The first-year lecture was called “On Demon Gods,” and they seemed surprised as what had started as a simple lecture began to delve deeper.

I wasn’t surprised since I knew nothing from the beginning.

The discussion about the birth of Demon Gods continued for quite some time. The Professor continued her lecture as if sharing real-time updated research papers. I wondered what the ultimate goal was, since learning about Demon Gods seemed like just a process.

Was it to exclude them because people feared them?

After the lecture ended, the Professor returned to the lab and stretched with a groan.

“Ugh, that was tiring.”

“I enjoyed it.”

When I made that comment, the Professor stared at me blankly with wide eyes.

“What? Weren’t you studying names again today? I saw you writing diligently at first.”

“…I was at first, but as I continued, I found your lecture interesting, so I just listened.”

“Really? Some students were sleeping in the corner, but our Ourr enjoyed my lecture?”

Although I had found it interesting because it related to me, the Professor seemed to interpret it differently.

Delighted, she suddenly jumped up and slipped her hands under my armpits. Being slow to react, I stood there blankly as she lifted me up into the air.

“Eeeeeek!”

My legs dangled helplessly as I lost contact with the ground, but the Professor spun me around once. Though she didn’t look particularly strong on the outside, I quickly realized otherwise as she lifted me so easily.

After spinning me around once, the Professor put me down with a satisfied expression. Startled and dizzy from the spin, I grabbed a chair to keep from falling and panted heavily.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just so touched. Do you know how happy it makes me to hear Ourr say my lecture was interesting?”

I shook my head. The Professor seemed determined to convey her feelings to me somehow as she rested her hand on her chin. As her blue eyes stared at me for a while, I avoided her gaze.

“…Professor?”

“Yes?”

“I… I want to eat.”

I looked for a way to escape before the Professor could choose some strange method. Since the morning lecture was over, I suggested we eat, and the Professor nodded in agreement.

“Alright, let’s eat whatever Ourr wants today.”

One mountain after another. I was faced with another situation where I had to choose a menu. Since I’d never particularly wanted anything specific, being asked what I “wanted to eat” was a daunting reality.

If I had something I wanted, there would be no problem, but since anything was fine with me, I worried about what the Professor would enjoy eating.

“How about pasta?”

“Pasta? Pasta sounds good.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember what the Professor had enjoyed eating before, then tentatively made a suggestion. She seemed pleased with the menu choice and returned to her desk.

The Professor picked up a tablet from her desk and extended her hand to me. It meant I should take her hand.

“But why are you bringing that?”

As I took her hand, I asked casually, and the Professor shook her head and dropped her shoulders as if to say “don’t even ask.”

“Sigh, after taking you around to greet people last week, rumors spread, and I got tons of emails asking if additional lectures would be added.”

“…What?”

“They all applied just to see Ourr. Some students look ready to barge into my lab and bow down to you.”

The Professor showed me the tablet with its screen turned off as she spoke.

I felt strange. It seemed like everyone at the Academy now knew about “Ourr” or “Demon God.” I felt both the thrill of becoming famous and the creepiness of everyone requesting additional lectures just to see me.

I shuddered, and the Professor must have felt the vibration through my hand because she looked at me in surprise.

“What, did you just tremble, Ourr?”

“……”

Finding my shudder amusing, the Professor chuckled and gently swung my hand. Feeling embarrassed, I let my body follow the movement of her hand.

My powerless arm swung back and forth.

There were many restaurants near the Academy. Most catered to students, so there were quite a few affordable places. People were even lining up at that kimbap place over there.

Passing through such streets, the restaurant the Professor took me to looked quite atmospheric. Rather than being luxurious, it seemed like a stylish Western restaurant targeting female students.

“What would you like to eat? Want to try reading the menu today too?”

“Is that okay?”

Reading the menu took quite a while, so I felt self-conscious, but if the Professor offered first, I had no reason to decline.

The Professor briefly taught me the letters. Not just the menu names, but also what ingredients were used and what flavors to expect.

Nodding along, I suddenly felt like eating something spicy and chose the arrabbiata. The Professor said she wanted something creamy and selected the Alfredo pasta.

“…Alfredo?”

“Think of it as cream pasta. I’ve had it before.”

It still felt unfamiliar no matter how many times I heard it. I had thought all cream pastas were carbonara.

At the Professor’s suggestion that we needed something to accompany our meal, four slices of cut baguette were added. They would definitely taste good dipped in the pasta sauce.

I picked up my fork as the ordered pasta was placed before us. The Professor picked up her fork, while I also used a spoon. As I twirled the pasta with a clatter, the Professor quietly observed me.

“Should we have ordered drinks too?”

“Ade?”

“Ade.”

When I tilted my head, the Professor nodded. Assuming we had reached an understanding, she asked the server for two glasses of ade.

I filled one cheek with pasta and chewed. It had been so long since I’d tasted something this spicy. I closed my eyes to savor it, but my mouth seemed unable to handle it.

“……!”

“What, what’s wrong?”

The Professor was startled by my suddenly changed expression. Ignoring the bewildered Professor, I reached out. I sucked the ade through the straw, and only then did I feel the spiciness being neutralized. My face contorted briefly from the carbonation that followed.

“Hwaah.”

“…Was it hot?”

“Spicy, it’s spicy!”

“It was spicy?”

I stuck out my tongue slightly and inhaled with a “hss.”

Come to think of it, I had forgotten that wanting something spicy was just my memory, while it was my body that had to handle the spiciness.

I groaned and glanced at the pasta in front of me.

According to the Professor, they had added peperoncino, but I wondered if they had added too much. If I had known, I would have ordered the Alf-something cream pasta like the Professor.

“…Sip.”

“Ourr, would you like this instead?”

“……”

I hesitated for a moment. It didn’t seem right to take what the Professor had wanted to eat. But looking at the arrabbiata in front of me, I couldn’t bring myself to continue eating it, so I tentatively reached out.

“J-just a little, please…”

“Sure, sure. Have as much as you want.”

The Professor gave me a generous portion, knowing that no matter how much I ate, I wouldn’t get full.