'Did she just see through my evil intentions?'
For a moment, Ihan was worried—but thankfully, that wasn't the case.
"Even if you wear priest robes, your faith won't deepen, and the curse won't weaken..."
It seemed Tijilling was worried Ihan might be misunderstanding something.
"Of course not. I just thought... wearing the robes might help me reflect on how I've been living lazily in soft, comfortable clothes."
"...But aren't your current clothes enough for that?"
Tijilling gestured at Ihan's outfit.
The skeletal principal had only provided students with coarse, rough uniforms (if you could even call them that), so they were already far from soft or comfortable.
But Ihan didn't waver.
"No, I need a priest's robe. To better understand the will of Prisinga."
"...If you say so..."
After hesitating, Tijilling gave in. To a devout soul like hers, "for the sake of faith" was a reason she couldn't refuse.
"I'll get one for you next time we meet."
"Great. Oh, right—your priest asked me to check if you're eating properly."
"I'm fine."
Tijilling responded gently, but firmly.
"I'm satisfied with my current meals."
If you gave up just because someone declined once, you didn't have what it took to survive graduate school.
When a professor told you to do something, you had to make the impossible happen.
Granted, Priest Mehrid wasn't exactly a professor, but still...
"But the priest is worried. If we don't do something, he's going to keep worrying. How about this? We eat together. You don't even have to eat much—just sharing a meal might ease his mind, right?"
Apparently convinced by Ihan's reasoning, Tijilling nodded after a moment of thought.
She already felt bad for how much Mehrid worried about her.
"That's a good idea."
"Right?"
Ihan grinned.
'If we're just eating together, I can totally get her to eat more.'
Manipulating a girl who grew up doing nothing but praying in a rigid order? Way too easy.
Tijilling tilted her head slightly, perhaps sensing something suspicious in Ihan's smile.
The weekend ended, and a new week began.
The students who had survived the brutal first week of enrollment looked oddly more mature now.
–Hmph. You all think Einroguard is tough? Feels like home to me now.
–After about a week, it's manageable. I think I can keep up with the magic lessons.
A bit of weekend rest had filled the students with baseless confidence.
But Einroguard had no intention of letting them off easy.
.
–There's a young mage standing at one vertex of a cube. The mage wants to connect a magic circle from that vertex to the furthest vertex. Calculate the shortest possible path.
–P-professor? Isn't this... not really magic...?
–Don't ask foolish, ignorant questions. A mage who relies only on instincts and waving a wand will never reach greatness. The higher the circle of magic, the more complex the calculations and laws become. Geometry is one of the fundamentals of magic. Those who don't understand geometry cannot properly draw a magic circle. Likewise, arithmetic is essential. If you don't know how to allocate mana properly, how could you possibly draw a functional circle?
–...
–I... I can't...
–One of the greatest dangers for young mages is being tricked into a fraudulent contract by a being intellectually superior to them. That's why mages must be able to read between the lines and identify double meanings. Today's case study: a foolish mage gets drunk and, as usual, does something stupid. In his drunken state, he summons a demon and signs a terrible contract. When he sobers up, can he void the contract? Now—those of you sleeping, do your souls mean nothing to you? Wake up!
–Aagh! I wasn't sleeping!
After attending the brutal core classes they hadn't encountered during the first week, the students looked half-souled, their faces pale and lifeless.
What... what did I just hear...?
"Maybe... I'm just not cut out for magic..."
"To think I deluded myself into believing I understood magic just because I could swing a wand... I'm worthless trash..."
The students murmured in complete defeat, their confidence shattered.
But even in the midst of this academic carnage, there were a few standouts.
"Geometry and arithmetic are merely the basics of imperial governance and administration."
—Asan of House Dalkard, a family that had produced generations of imperial chancellors and treasurers.
"..."
—Princess Adenart, one of countless royals but widely recognized for her exceptional talent.
"How I solved it? Dude, is that really what matters right now? We need to find a way out of here first!"
—Ihan of House Wardanaz, the most outstanding among the elite students of the Blue Dragon Tower, which was filled with the best and brightest of the Empire's noble families.
These three were the prodigies who breezed through the suffocating assault of the core curriculum without even flinching.
"I never thought there'd come a day where I'd think grad school was useful."
Ihan mused to himself.
Everyone around him had always asked what good studying would ever do, but surprisingly, it did have its uses.
Though… he never expected it to be this kind of use.
"Hehehe... Ihan, look at those White Tiger Tower losers. They're a mess."
You didn't solve it either...
Even though Gainando had struggled just as much, he found renewed energy from seeing others do worse—something Ihan could only admire.
Consistency is a virtue, I guess.
"Can you help me later?"
Yonner asked hesitantly.
Even someone relatively smart like her had trouble keeping up with today's lessons. She'd need to go over them again and try solving the problems herself. And having someone as smart as Ihan helping out would be a huge advantage.
Honestly, Ihan's performance had been surprising.
Asan came from a family known for that kind of thing, and Adenart had already proven herself multiple times, but for Ihan to stand toe-to-toe with them was unexpected.
"Of course. I'll be asking you for help with alchemy later anyway."
At Ihan's answer, Yonner's face lit up.
"Studying really is easier when you've got people to trade strengths with."
Surprisingly, connections really did help in studying.
Sure, geniuses didn't need help and could go it alone, but Ihan wasn't that kind of genius.
Having relationships where you could mutually support each other was simply advantageous.
Ihan didn't think helping Yonner with math or logic was a waste of time.
On the contrary—learning alchemy from her was definitely a win.
"Ah! Then me too!"
"..."
Ihan paused for a second.
Helping Gainando definitely did feel like a loss.
"Of course."
"...You hesitated just now, didn't you?"
"Must've been your imagination. Anyway, seeing how hard these core subjects are, I'm glad I didn't pick too many electives."
At Ihan's words, the others all nodded.
The overconfidence they'd had after surviving the first week—"This isn't so bad!"—was long gone.
They were seriously considering dropping some of their other classes.
Ihan casually added:
"So… what do you think? Is it too late to consider taking classes like swordsmanship, physical training, or magic combat drills...?"
"Sorry."
"Nope, not doing it."
"No matter how I think about it, that's just not for me."
Though they listened seriously to most of what Ihan said, on this point they were very firm.
Just as the students had regular group meetings, so did the professors.
Professor Thunderstep, the dwarf, sipped a cup of freshly brewed tea.
"Mmm. Everything tastes better when you've got a skilled hand around."
There was a dwarven proverb: "With a good worker, everything tastes better."
And it was true—the boy from House Wardanaz had proven himself quite the skilled hand. The tea leaves were noticeably better since he started helping with hut maintenance.
That wasn't something just anyone could do—especially not someone from one of the Empire's great noble houses.
A true talent for menial tasks!
"By the way, Headmaster,"
Hm?
"Who's teaching the course?"
Professor Garcia Kim, the troll hybrid, raised the question.
Thunderstep looked puzzled as he answered:
"Huh? Isn't Professor Bendazol in charge of that?"
"Oh no. Haven't you heard? Professor Bendazol went off to find a unicorn and disappeared. He still hasn't come back. I think we'll need a replacement."
Don't worry. Of course we've made arrangements.
"Of course..."
"We knew we could count on you."
At the reassuring words of the dependable skeletal headmaster, all the professors nodded in agreement.
There might have been complaints and grumbling here and there, but it was undeniable that the skeletal headmaster played a major role in keeping this massive, chaotic entity of a magic school running smoothly.
Who else but the skeletal headmaster could possibly manage and lead such a place?
"So, who is it?"
Professor Thunderstep was curious.
The Foundational Mount Training course was one of the required classes.
Not only was it meant to prevent graduates from being completely useless around horses, but it also served to get them familiar with handling all sorts of unusual beasts.
That meant the professor in charge needed deep knowledge not just in horsemanship, but in a wide range of mounts.
"Lightningstep Chaidar."
"..."
"Oh. If it's her, I can trust the class is in good hands."
"Excellent choice."
All the professors, except for Thunderstep, expressed their satisfaction.
Lightningstep was a famous dwarven adventurer, renowned for her explorations and expeditions into the wilds both within and beyond the Empire.
Of course, Thunderstep was extremely displeased.
Because Lightningstep was his aunt.
"Why her of all people?!"
Go complain to Bendazol then—for disappearing while chasing a unicorn. How was I supposed to know he'd vanish? You should count yourself lucky I found such a perfect replacement so quickly.
"Guh..."
Thunderstep couldn't argue with the skeletal headmaster.
It was true that finding the right professor for the role wasn't easy.
Still…
"Ugh, I really don't want to see her."
Part of the reason Thunderstep hated Eastern Dwarves was because of Lightningstep.
She was an Eastern Dwarf.
Every time they met, she'd bombard him with comments like, "How long are you going to stay holed up in your lab tinkering with flasks and potions?"
"Listen when your elders speak!"
"Even Ironleg from the neighboring clan has started a family already!"
She was the one dwarf who could tear Thunderstep's soul apart with just a few words.
Professor Garcia offered some comforting words.
"Don't worry too much. You probably won't have to see her that often."
"One can hope..."
The students, battered all day by math and language classes, surprisingly had bright expressions on their faces.
It was because of the class they were about to take next.
Foundational Mount Training!
In the Empire, horseback riding was a noble's essential education, a knight's skill, and even to commoners, not an impossible luxury.
Students from the Blue Dragon Tower, who had grown up riding around their territories from childhood…
Students from the White Tiger Tower, who had galloped across mountains and fields on warhorses…
Students from the Black Tortoise Tower, who had traveled long imperial roads on horseback…
—all of them looked confident.
Ihan, too, didn't feel particularly wary. Of course he knew how to ride a horse.
"Well, if they just keep whipping us with hard classes, someone's bound to collapse. A carrot-like class every now and then makes sense."
—ScreeeEEEAARRRRGHHHH!
"?"
"???"
"??????"
With a monstrous roar that no ordinary beast could make, something massive flew in from the sky—
—and snatched Gainando up by the beak and flew off.
"WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!"