WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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Chapter 121: 17. A Muggle-Born Wizard’s Method of Managing Grades (2)
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* * *
Like agents in every intelligence organization, Krasilov’s agents shared a particular trait. When you looked for them, they were nowhere to be found. When you tried to ignore them, you could vaguely spot them somewhere at the edge of your vision. (Droans were an exception.)
So the four students, Isabelle included, scoured the campus with bloodshot eyes and still failed to find Ivan.
It was the first day of the new semester.
“Why is a man who normally stares at us from somewhere all day suddenly nowhere to be found when we’re looking for him?!”
“Esi, calm down. Elphihara, what about your tracking magic?”
“I’m using it! I can’t sense a thing, no matter what I do!”
“Maybe he’s not even at the university?”
“No, he’s definitely somewhere nearby....”
Elphihara had her eyes squeezed shut as she continuously chanted spells. She had experienced Ivan’s mana several times already, so a short-range tracking spell should not have been difficult for her.
Yet he was definitely nearby....
As Elphihara frowned deeply, Rundis, who was chewing on a waffle beside her, spoke brightly.
“Ah, it’s probably because of something my father gave him!”
“Your father?”
“Yes! Hehe! It seems even pointy ears are no match for the wisdom of our great ancestors, right? It’s a Spell Distortion Stone! Throw it, and it destroys magic! Just carrying it provides some protection against magic, too! Isn’t it amazing?”
“Why did he give him something like that...?”
“Ah, that’s a bit of a long story. Long, long ago....”
Rundis began explaining her great ancestors’ traditional wedding customs and betrothal-gift culture. The Hero Party ignored her and began searching the area.
“Fine. Elphihara’s useless now. What should we do? Can we use the Droan method, Esi?”
“Uh... my homeland’s method? What is that?”
“If we set fire to the area, anyone hiding nearby will come out, won’t they?”
“Why is that my homeland’s...?”
Was it? If someone stabbed a Jarl, ran away, and hid, the entire village did seem to rush out and set fire to the area first. It was part of a traditional game. (Anyone caught that way was usually subjected to another traditional game. The most common choice was the blood eagle.)
As Aesidis lowered her head in troubled thought, she spotted Oscar in the distance. As usual, he was practically buried among women and being force-fed snacks.
“Oscar! Have you seen him?”
“Ah, Lady Isabelle. I was looking for him because of that myself. Have you seen the course registration board? There are some strange classes.”
“Strange classes?”
“Go to the first-year Knight Department lobby. No, wait. Let’s go together.”
Ignoring the protests of the women clustered around him, Oscar joined the Hero Party.
* * *
[Liberal Elective: Demonfolk Studies and Countermeasures.]
[Professor: Ivan Petrovich Yermof]
[5 Credits. Pass/Fail grading system.]
“He’s a professor now? And what’s with a five-credit elective? It’s Pass/Fail, too. Doesn’t that mean you just have to show up?”
“Wait, look. There’s another one.”
At Elphihara’s words, Isabelle turned her head. Among the course schedules and syllabi plastered across the notice board, she found another familiar name.
[Liberal Elective: Basic Survival Skills.]
[Professor: Ivan Petrovich Yermof]
[5 Credits. Pass/Fail grading system.]
“Good heavens, he’s teaching two classes? Ten credits total? Does he have two bodies or something?”
“Considering Lord Yermof’s usual habits, perhaps he simply doesn’t sleep....”
Aesidis nodded at Oscar’s words. It was hard to argue with that.
[Liberal Elective: Human Anatomy and Mana.]
[Professor: Ivan Petrovich Yermof]
[5 Credits. Pass/Fail grading system.]
“Fifteen credits?! If you take all his classes, you can earn more than half the required credits?”
“Wait, Isabelle. Something’s strange.”
“Hm?”
“Isn’t this... a trap?”
“Out of nowhere?”
Elphihara looked solemnly over the Hero Party. Except for Rundis, everyone present had essentially been forced to “complete” those classes during the first week of vacation.
Demonfolk studies? He had thrown them into the middle of an orc pack, claiming it was teaching them how to deal with orcs.
Survival skills? He had shoved them into a forest full of traps and tormented them day and night.
Human anatomy and mana? It felt like he would put bullets into students’ bodies while saying things like, “Getting hit here hurts, and getting hit there hurts even more!”
Silence fell over the group at Elphihara’s words. She was not wrong. No, there did not seem to be any other possible explanation.
They could not even imagine Ivan opening a textbook at a lectern and conducting an ordinary lecture.
“So he tested next semester’s curriculum on our bodies in advance?”
“Let’s not think such horrible thoughts, Bella. That’s too sad....”
“Don’t you all think Lord Yermof would say, ‘Hm. Reasonable,’?”
“I can’t argue with that....”
Oscar quietly tilted his head at Elphihara’s words.
“Why is everyone like this? Weren’t those really useful lessons? If these lectures teach us exactly what we went through, doesn’t that mean we can fill an entire semester’s credits for free? We’ve already done the prep work.”
“It’s nice to see someone so positive.”
“Are you insane, Oscar?”
“Why? I liked the classes. I gained a lot and learned a lot.”
“It’s nice to see someone so positive.”
Isabelle ignored Oscar, whose eyes were shining. Come to think of it, he had received the most traditional knight training Tilles had to offer. Camping in a forest and killing orcs might have been part of his basic education.
Then Rundis’s eyes lit up.
“Wow, so we can meet the elder himself for fifteen hours every week and take his classes? I’m doing it!”
“...?”
“...!”
“...?!”
At Rundis’s cry, the three girls looked at one another. They scanned the syllabi at the same time. According to the schedules, the three classes were held on different days.
That meant they could spend at least five hours with Ivan on three days every week.
They looked at each other again. Their iris colors and eye shapes were all different, yet the gazes of all three girls were remarkably alike.
‘What if one of these girls takes the classes?’
‘These girls could flirt with Uncle every week?’
‘Even if we all take the classes, a human can’t beat an elf when it comes to training dogs, can she?’
They had fifteen credits and Ivan to gain. No, not Ivan. They had nothing but their chains to lose.
The three girls smiled softly and slipped the syllabi into their bags. Their movements were so stealthy and swift that Counterintelligence Command agents would have applauded.
“That’s a lot of credits! Oscar’s not wrong. We’ve all done the prep work already, after all.”
“Exactly! And survival skills? That’s basically a hobby in Droan!”
“Well, they’re electives. Why don’t we at least attend the orientation and decide after that?”
With warm smiles, the three girls looked at each other and headed for the classroom building.
* * *
“Welcome.”
The classroom fell silent at the entirely unwelcoming voice.
The man responsible for fifteen credits, who currently held the attention of every first-year student in every department, stepped onto the platform.
His tall frame and solid build made even an ordinary coat look sharp. The strong hands peeking out from beneath his cuffs bore countless scars.
His posture behind the lectern was perfectly upright, as if drawn from a painting. His clear blue gaze did not so much as waver. Beneath it was a long, thick, neatly groomed beard.
He looked like an officer who had just stepped out of war propaganda. (He had.)
Tap. Tap.
He began writing on the blackboard behind the lectern. Precise block letters slid across the board.
“My name is Ivan Petrovich Yermof. If you have heard my name before, you may have seen me at the last tournament.”
The students began murmuring. The tournament personally hosted by the Princess had been Pritchenkaya’s biggest event immediately before summer vacation. Naturally, everyone here had attended.
That guy, the Black Knight? The butcher? The human tank? Such whispers spread among the students. Ivan did not bother stopping them and continued.
“I will not introduce myself. It would be pointless. I will not hear your introductions. That would also be pointless.”
Ivan finished dryly and turned back to continue writing.
Tap. Tap.
White letters covered the blackboard.
“In this class, I will teach you Demonfolk Studies and Countermeasures. I trust you all checked the course name before coming here. I will not explain further.”
Ivan looked over the students again. Some regarded him with interest, while others yawned in boredom. No one seemed serious about the class itself.
It was only natural. They were children who had never experienced war. It was understandable, too. When he thought back to his days as Kim Seonwoo, high-credit elective courses had been time to take attendance and sleep.
But that would not do. Unlike South Korea, where war had only been a story from some distant country, war in this world was like a shadow.
Something you could not tear away, hide from, or avoid. Something that always clung to your back and chased after you, growing larger and larger.
Ivan pressed his hand against the lectern and continued.
“All demonfolk with physical bodies share one common weakness. Does anyone know what it is?”
“....”
He had never expected an answer. Ivan nodded calmly and continued.
“If you separate their head from their body, they die.”
“Pff!”
Laughter spread through the classroom. Their expressions seemed to say, Is that man making a joke that doesn’t suit him? Ivan continued without changing expression.
“It is obvious. It is also the truth. Every demonfolk has different traits, different threat levels, different ecologies, and different tactics. In this class, regardless of the traits of the various demonfolk, you will learn how to separate their heads from their bodies.”
“Any questions?”
At Ivan’s words, a student shot a hand into the air.
When Ivan nodded toward him, a large male student smirked.
“I’m curious about your career, Professor! Have you faced every kind of demonfolk you mentioned?”
Laughter burst from the students. Saint Yansk University’s lectures were known for their quality, but everyone here was the child of nobility. That naturally meant they were gifted students who had completed their basic education in their own territories.
To such students, professors were little more than salaried workers, aside from a few very famous ones. At an academy for nobles, professors could never hold much authority.
Most nobles of this era belonged to the senior officer corps and had military experience. It was a feature of feudalism. Nobles who led their private soldiers into war, especially nobles who had survived, held authority that had risen to unprecedented heights after the last war.
And these nobles had been carefully selected as the best from every nation in the Allied Kingdoms.
Publicly, Ivan was nothing more than the third son of an upstart northern viscount family. That was because he had already become famous at the last tournament.
An upstart viscount family was ultimately just a band of mercenaries who had earned military merit, and being the third son meant he was a wandering knight pushed out of his territory with no inheritance rights. In other words, he was no more than a common mercenary.
In these circumstances, even a professor could not command the students’ respect. This was closer to an open contest of wills. Before the semester began, they intended to put this new lecturer in his place and enjoy their classes comfortably.
Naturally, Ivan did not care in the slightest.
“Every kind I can face.”
From goblin slaves to the Seven Dragon Generals, all of them.
“I’ve killed each of them at least once.”
Ivan looked at the student with deep-set eyes. The male student who had raised his hand flinched at the force of his presence and sat down.
Silence fell again. The students who had come to idly pass the time were gone. Before that answer, which seemed to smell of blood, they felt fear for a moment.
Fear like that tended to fade quickly. Ivan had experience overseeing recruit training, so he did not easily trust fear born from words alone.
Instead, he preferred holding an axe and a pistol. This class would not be much different.
“Any other questions?”
“Um... I have a question!”
A student hesitantly raised a hand. The short male student looked at the syllabus and asked.
“The syllabus says every class is practical training, but how can we learn demonfolk ecology through practical training...? It’s not like you can bring demonfolk here....”
“A good question.”
Ivan nodded briefly.
Watching him, Isabelle clenched her fists and swallowed hard. She had a bad feeling about this.
“During every class, I will take the role of the demonfolk.”
“...What?”
“You will learn demonfolk ecology and countermeasures through me. Any other questions?”
“Uh... I don’t really understand....”
“If there are no questions, that concludes the course explanation. Next week, come dressed in clothes that are easier to move in. There is no need to arm yourselves. Weapons will be issued.”
Ivan cut himself off and left the room.
In the icy silence, Aesidis whispered into Isabelle’s ear.
“I knew it.”
“I’ll start looking into illegal border-crossing routes. So we can defect together if he massacres those noble children....”
Going by what he had said, it did not sound like a joke. He was not even someone who knew how to joke in the first place.
Was someone actually going to die?
Isabelle picked up her bag and sank into thought.
This was only Ivan’s first class. He had to teach fifteen hours over the week, so she would face him again at another class orientation the next day.
Footnotes:
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