“Hmm, time has already passed this much. Since the general explanation is finished, I will begin today’s class.”
Seeing no students who seemed likely to ask any further questions, Lagrit opened his mouth as he wiped the iron board behind him with an eraser.
“As I said earlier, you will choose which department among Alchemy, Summoning, and Spells you wish to enter—or whether you will select a minor—after half a year has passed, so please give it careful thought… For now, among the various majors, I will begin with the class on the Spell Department, which I am in charge of.”
Before preparing for the lecture in earnest, Lagrit briefly explained his own background.
“Allow me to introduce myself again. I am Professor Lagrit, assistant professor for the first-year students of the Faculty of Mysticism this year, and the professor in charge of the Spell Department. You will be seeing my face every single day from now on, so I explained this earlier in the hope that you might grow accustomed to me in advance.”
“There are many other professors besides me,” Lagrit said calmly, resting an arm on the lectern, “but most of them are in charge of the second- and third-year students, so first-year students will likely be meeting me the most often.”
“Then, let us begin class.”
***
Professor Lagrit’s class continued past morning and into lunchtime.
Just as he had introduced himself as the professor in charge of the Spell Department, foreign-sounding words that resembled spells poured from his mouth without making that title seem the least bit awkward.
His lecture style resembled the typical style of typical teachers I had experienced in my previous life. First, he listed out the information he was teaching in a long stream, then proceeded by asking whether we had understood that information.
In a way, he was teaching in the most orthodox manner, but since the contents of his lecture were made up of information far too unfamiliar to students hearing it for the first time, students who could not keep up with the class and began dozing off appeared here and there.
Nod, nod.
There was no need to look far for an example. Just like Isil, who was nodding off right beside me, dropouts who had failed to keep up with Professor Lagrit’s class were continuing to emerge.
Tap, tadak, tap.
The sound of chalk scrawling across the iron board and Professor Lagrit’s calm, languid voice that somehow made one sleepy blended together. Like the regular ticking of a pendulum clock’s second hand, it only made people feel even more bored; to first-year students not yet accustomed to Academia classes, it was nothing less than a dull torture.
“—And so, to summarize, spells are ultimately one aspect related to self-suggestion, and in my opinion—”
As someone who had gone through school classes in my previous life, I could endure his class, but as lunchtime drew near, most of the students were wiped out.
No matter how you looked at it, this class was too violent for kids who were still only fifteen years old.
Violently boring.
Even when I tried to hold back my drowsiness, the languid sunlight filtering through the windowpanes and the occasional birdsong made even my heart feel cozy, like a devil’s whisper tempting me to rest comfortably now.
“Therefore, today’s conclusion is this. A spell is the strongest suggestion that changes one’s own perception. For that reason, the spells used by each mage tend to differ quite plainly. Among mages, the saying that there is no mage who uses the same spell is widely spread, and I do not believe that this saying is entirely without basis. You all—”
Nod.
Slurp!
I hurriedly wiped the drool that had unknowingly dribbled down the corner of my mouth and straightened my head.
Ugh, at first, it had been interesting, as though I were listening to a vivid fantasy setting book, but as time went on, he kept adding his own hypotheses, and the explanation became sluggish.
Professor Lagrit, you’re not particularly good at explaining things, are you?
He’s the typical researcher who merely lists the knowledge he has.
Lecture evaluation: D.
While tentatively grading Professor Lagrit in my mind, I looked around.
“…Kooool.”
“Isil, don’t sleep so openly. Haaam. It’s rude.”
Yawning, I gently shook Isil’s shoulder as she sat with her head lowered and her eyes closed, waking her up.
Shake, shake.
Flash!
As soon as I shook her body, Isil’s eyes flew open, and she immediately straightened her posture again.
Then she turned her head with a dazed face and looked at me.
“…When was I sleeping?”
“About two hours ago, I think. Class has been going on for around four hours now, so you slept through half of it.”
“…”
“So by your standards, you did pretty well. Look behind you.”
Swoosh.
At my joke, Isil carefully glanced behind her, then turned back without saying a word and nodded.
Mm, the sight of most of the students aside from us annihilated and lying face-down was certainly a spectacle.
Seeing the students who had been growling at one another before class began now lying face-down in harmony made it feel, unexpectedly, as though peace was not so far away.
“Now then, since there is not much time left, I will begin discussing the conclusion. To summarize from the very first part I explained—”
“…Are all Academia classes like this?”
Watching Lagrit conduct the class with words listed across the iron board, Isil muttered a complaint mixed with worry.
In her eyes, half of her feelings were concern over what she would do if all classes were like this from now on, and the other half was the desire to give up already.
“They probably won’t be.”
“…Huh?”
“Haaaam. Look at this.”
For the puzzled Isil, I pointed with my finger at the part I had discovered.
Swoosh.
“…What is this?”
“Well, as you can see, it’s the legacy of our seniors. In common terms, graffiti.”
Faint letters written on the top of the desk where we were sitting were revealed as they reflected the sunlight.
Those letters were invisible when sunk in shadow, but when the sunlight reflected through the window shone upon them, they briefly appeared, flaunting their existence.
“…Do not choose the Spell Department. There lies the hell of drowsiness?”
“If you want to earn money, go to the Alchemy Department. It has the best employment prospects.”
“The Summoning Department reeks terribly. If you do not love animals, it will be difficult to endure.”
Isil and I took turns quietly reading the graffiti, written in different handwriting as though several people had written them.
Perhaps the discovery of the legacy hidden by our seniors had driven away her drowsiness, for Isil looked at me with clear eyes.
“This is graffiti hidden by our seniors.”
“Yeah. Graffiti that appears in accordance with the angle of the sunlight coming in at exactly around this time. It seems there are clever people everywhere, really.”
I carefully scratched the faintly appearing letters on the desk with my fingernail as I spoke.
Tok, tok.
The letters were painted so faintly that if one touched them absentmindedly, they would simply feel like the grain of the wood. It seemed they had been written with a special reagent we had not yet learned about.
A reagent that appears when it receives sunlight, huh. Maybe because this was a classroom for the Faculty of Mysticism, even the skill used to leave graffiti was anything but ordinary.
It’s not like this is some escape room game.
“…Reading what’s written here, it seems like they’re phrases related to choosing a department.”
“Since that’s probably the biggest concern among first-year students.”
Quietly watching Isil as she carefully read the graffiti, I let out a silent yawn and asked,
“Isil, have you decided which department you’re going to choose?”
“…Not yet. But when the professor was explaining earlier, there was a department that caught my interest.”
“Oh, which one?”
“The Alchemy Department.”
Isil looked at my face, which showed surprise at her unexpected choice of department, for a moment, then spoke her reason.
“…I’m used to handling reagents.”
“Ah, come to think of it, you’re the one who gave me this glass bottle, right?”
Slosh.
I shook the small glass bottle in my pocket with my hand, making a sound.
Inside the glass bottle, the demonic energy Isil had extracted shimmered in the sunlight like perfume.
“Yes. I’ve handled all kinds of reagents since I was young, so wouldn’t that help when I take classes in the Alchemy Department?”
“Well, if it’s something you’re already familiar with, choosing the Alchemy Department would certainly be wise.”
“…Jin, have you decided which department you’re going to choose?”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
At Isil’s question, I leaned my waist back and tilted my head toward the ceiling.
“Our family raised hunting dogs, and there’s also something I was asked to do by that person, so as of now, I think I’ll choose the Summoning Department…”
“Asked?”
“Hm? Ah, it’s just that since I’ve been close to animals since I was young, I figured the Summoning Department might be more comfortable for me.”
“…I see.”
Nod.
Isil nodded at my explanation and said,
“Jin, it seems you’ve been living with animals since you were young.”
“That’s right. Our territory is in the mountains, so I’ve seen all sorts of animals in the forest. Starting with bears, then deer and horses, and birds too.”
Since I went hunting with my father every year, I was all the more familiar with animals.
At the very least, wouldn’t I be more skilled at getting along with mystical beasts than students from the Holy Capital?
After all, mystical beasts were ultimately beings that had mutated from animals.
As Isil and I passed the remaining time talking to each other like that, we heard the professor at the front bring the class to an end.
“Ah, time is up. That will be all for today’s class.”
Thump.
As though his words ending the class were an activation trigger.
“Uuughhhhh.”
“Ah, I’m sleepy.”
“…I’m tired.”
The students who had been lying dead like zombies stretched and came back to life.
The long, long class had finally ended.