Chapter 33: Raven’s Leave: A Teacher’s Departure

How significant is the position of Headmaster of the Academy?

Perhaps I should start with my own story.

Regal Inverness.

I’ve held the title of Sword Saint for over a century.

I’m classified as a Transcendent. I’ve surpassed the limitations of ordinary humans, after all.

But typically, even a human Transcendent is still human.

Compared to Transcendents of other races, like elves or dragons, who are fundamentally different from the start, humans are ridiculously weak.

For example,

The ‘Ancient Elf.’ An elven elder who takes centuries to age, yet appears as an old man.

A Transcendent who has survived for over a millennium, untouched by death.

And… the ‘Black Star Dragon.’

The dragon race, considered the pinnacle of life itself.

A Transcendent who shattered the ‘common sense’ that Transcendents couldn’t be born from dragonkind.

A madwoman who annihilated three nations, with over five Transcendents each, in a single night. The descendant of the last Dragon King, who transcended even dragons.

Naturally, facing monsters like that is impossible under normal circumstances.

A human Transcendent,

possesses power comparable to a single, ordinary dragon.

Unfair, isn’t it?

Even dedicating your entire life to martial arts, possessing extraordinary talent as a human,

you’re only equal to a dragon who’s spent its life lazing around in a cave.

In conclusion, with a few exceptions, a human Transcendent can’t defeat other Transcendents.

The exceptions are Heroes, or those like me.

Those who only appear human.

Me, who made a contract with a god.

Exceptions like Heroes, who receive power from a god without any price.

“Sigh.”

That was a long tangent, but the reason someone as important as me is wasting away as Headmaster,

is because the position holds great significance.

This nation has grown weak.

The number of Transcendents present at its founding has dwindled.

Even if we defeat the Demon King and earn a hundred years of respite, a single war reduces everything we’ve built to ash and dust.

But for some reason,

great power always emerges from the academy.

Has there ever been a Hero who didn’t attend the academy? No.

Even most of the Heroes’ companions are graduates or former students of the academy.

Almost all of them are women, with a few exceptions, but let’s ignore that minor detail.

The fate of the Empire rests on the academy.

So how can anyone ignore the Headmaster?

What if something happens at the academy?

For that reason, the position of Headmaster has become one of immense honor and authority.

It’s not like this old man is here without a purpose.

But…

I never thought I’d be racking my brains over a single teacher.

‘I’ll be taking a leave of absence.’

Taking a leave of absence from the academy?

We consider breaks as leaves of absence.

Taking a leave means taking double the time off.

If it were any other teacher, I would have dismissed it as nonsense…

‘Sincerely, Raven Pest.’

Isn’t he the hardest working person here?

Besides, he didn’t apply to the academy.

He was invited, he’s not obligated to stay.

“Sigh…”

Well, I suppose I have to approve it.

If it weren’t for him, there could have been casualties in the recent incident.

Scratch…

My aged pen nib marks the document, approving his leave.

…For ‘training,’ he says.

Can someone like him become even stronger?

“So, that’s why I’ll be your temporary homeroom teacher…”

A short woman with hair so long it drags on the floor.

The alchemy prodigy, Mathillian.

Lacking confidence, she keeps her eyes fixed on the floor, her voice trembling.

Hmm. I don’t know the details, but she’s said to have created incredibly famous potions.

She’s certainly talented, but…

She should be grateful to be a teacher at the academy…

“Teacher Raven…”

I didn’t expect the teacher to suddenly disappear like this.

Tap, tap.

I nudged the equally shocked kid next to me.

“Alex.”

“Yeah…”

He clumsily pushes himself up.

Was he just dozing off? He might not have heard.

“Teacher Raven’s taking a leave of absence.”

Crash!

His chair clatters to the floor.

“What?!”

“Oh dear…one of my students is causing a ruckus on the first day…”

“Heh.”

Well, I need to tease this kid to pass the time.

“Revan? Teacher Raven’s on leave?”

“Yeah, focus. Arthur.”

“Yes.”

Swish!!!

The Holy Sword of White Light cleaves through the air.

His physical potential surpasses mine, but…

“It’s empty.”

“Huh?”

“There’s weight behind the sword, but nothing else.”

He only knows the movements.

He doesn’t understand the sword at all.

Arthur blinks, confused.

“What else should there be?”

“Hmm. You have a long way to go.”

Has this kid never experienced a ‘Hero’s awakening’?

“Have you recently lost a comrade?”

“No.”

“Been in mortal danger?”

“Hmm. No.”

I see.

I thought he was too weak for his potential and the time he’s invested, but

his approach was fundamentally wrong.

“Sit down. We’re starting meditation.”

“What? Now?”

“What you need isn’t physical strength. It’s your mind.”

Whack!

I kicked Arthur in the shin, forcing him to sit.

Then, I pulled out some items from subspace.

“‘A Collection of Tear-Jerking Stories,’ a brush, and blank paper… what are these for?”

“To awaken your inner image. Normally, I’d push you to the brink of death, but seeing as you haven’t awakened it despite everything so far… there’s something wrong.”

Like a psychopath who imitates emotions, for example.

That would be problematic.

“Inner image…”

“Emotions shouldn’t be infused into the sword. It becomes too predictable, the power distribution becomes skewed. Easy to exploit.”

I observed Arthur as he clumsily assumed a meditative posture.

Long, flowing hair. Deep, contemplative eyes.

Even if he looks like he’s never suffered a day in his life, he’s destined to become the Hero, one who will understand suffering more than anyone.

Then this kid must also have a reverse scale.

…No need to search for it.

It’ll be the same as mine.

“When the Saintess died.”

“…!”

“Recall that experience.”

Arthur’s expression momentarily hardens, but his eyes hold different emotions.

Confusion, surprise…is he perplexed? Why isn’t there any anger?

“…Yes, I’ve recalled it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

I grabbed Arthur’s hair, my grip tightening.

A bit too much sincerity in my grasp, perhaps.

“When the Saintess died. Not any other time, but that specific moment. The moment blood flowed from her shoulder, staining the infirmary floor, the moment she died in agony, without blaming us.”

“Yes, I’ve recalled it.”

“Then why isn’t there any anger? Have you already forgotten? The helplessness? The shock and rage?”

Arthur silently lowered his head.

Then I have nothing more to say.

Perhaps it’s a good thing that he’s already forgotten.

A Hero must look towards the future, not dwell on the past.

If he treats the Saintess as the past and lets her go,

Arthur might be freed from his shackles.

But…

I haven’t been freed yet.

My grip on Arthur’s hair loosened.

Did I go too far?

“…Then recall another experience where your emotions were intense and meditate. I’ll rest for a bit.”

I sat on the training ground floor and watched Arthur, who calmly assumed a meditative posture.

The relief is evident.

What is he relieved about?

Why is he relieved?

…Whatever.

He’ll tell me later.

Caw, caw.

Seagulls soar across the clear, cloudless sky.

Some perch on rooftops, watching me.

Do they think I’m one of them because of the crow mask?

Oh dear. That’s a bit problematic.

Countless small, white houses dotting the coastline.

People hawk fresh fish, displayed on boxes.

Baiton, a coastal city.

A city of the sea and fishermen.

And…

“This outfit is rather warm, isn’t it?”

Europe, where sunscreen is a foreign concept.

The white stone pavement reflects the sunlight so intensely, I’d probably be blind if I weren’t wearing a mask.

‘