Novels2Search

1.45

Mathias was coaxed into dressing, carrying his bag, and otherwise told to function. His hazy mind vehemently rejected paying the slightest bit of conscious attention, but his habits coincided with Lisanna's orders.

He was even instructed to grab the materials he left on the patio - as it apparently was seeping into the room. The cool atmosphere accentuated the warmth of his blankets overtop and fur underneath, so it was more therapeudic than anything else.

Once he finally withdrew the hood of his cloak - socially acceptable now due to the falling rain - he tiredly glanced around the noisy room.

'... Too much...'

He pressed his head down, twin-staves leaned against the wall, and the material he created just beside it still. Even the quartz gem was sitting on the window-sill, but Lisanna just left a hovering orb at her side as she was busily preparing for class. It would be freezing otherwise.

"..."

Solemn footsteps appeared and the class immediately silenced.

They ran back to their seats to see Mr. Shields looking at them irritably.

"...!"

Everyone was on high alert.

He slammed a letter to the podium and growled, "I was under the impression it would be a small project. What is the meaning of this? Argentine, speak."

Ayla was called out.

She looked around for help, trying to hide herself, but his piercing glare stifled her motivation to escape from his order. "I- uh, we... we went to the Headmaster since... well, the Chef told us too, and... and... he-"

Mr. Shields cut in. "Perhaps you're unaware, but that man is the one who is leading this academy. To seek his approval under Watsan is one-thing, but to do so without understanding his personality? Do you realize you've essentially forced four staff members to accept a proposal? A proposal that is not so simple as to require just informal actions. Rather, we're expected to dress up as well."

"W-we, uh, didn't know... I-it is just that...-"

"He forced himself on the task, I'm aware. However, even if the others are more intrigued by this, to force me into wearing formal attire? I did not sign up for that."

"Uh, I-I, w-we couldn't say anything... he already ordered ev-everything to be s-set up...!"

Mr. Shields' glare was chilling as it passed the entire room. "If it is one-time, that is fine. However, for the past five years, that man has been trying to usurp the traditions Majin Academy has spent decades following. He seeks to add 'entertainment' to students and staff in an institution that has long-since prioritized itself on the pursuit of knowledge.

"Were it but once, that is fine. However, to be forced to interact with the community at large, forced to interact with the political goals we've managed to sever ties from, and to be forced to wear such attire for political means? It's disgraceful. And since Mitras and the others were invited, that means I must attend any subsequent events - in such clothes."

"S-sor-"

"Myself and the others were even forced to delay the test from Monday to Tuesday, on account of the apparent 'curriculum-based' burden that you all have voluntarily assumed."

"...!"

"That is, in itself, no issue. But to wear that defiling cloth? I have no words," Mr. Shields growled before turning to Mathias.

"Vandiese. What is the principle governing the interaction between passive mana-containers and the inclusion of healing magic, the issues and repercussions for failure, the early and contemporary theories for bypassing it, and the complications that arise from incompatibility between water magic and other forms of ambient mana in a container? Yhir-"

Both questions were extremely long-winded. And Mr. Shields did not bother with his customary honorifics. He just spat out the questions to the two of them.

As Mathias was furiously scribbling on paper, composing an impromptu essay pertaining to the requests, Fara spent ten minutes explaining her question with repeated interjections by Mr. Shields to elaborate more and more - and more.

He ensured he was stretching the extent of her knowledge before turning to Mathias.

"Vandiese."

He pointed to his neck, still carrying the tell-tale burns of the fire demon's grip on his throat, and hurriedly ran up the note to Mr. Shields, standing at attention.

Even he was alert at the predatory accusations directed to the class that he knew nothing about. However, as was customary, he was still called to answer.

"The early theories lack substantive claims, bordering on the philosophical. What evidence did the first theories uncover?"

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Mathias saw that his paper was stolen so he just started jotting down a chronological timeline on the white-board of the past few centuries of innovation, each with a respective governing theory, originator, experimenter, and a rough approximation of the dates.

He was lucky since he read a book on it a few months prior and was able to see the similarities between the seminal works and the modern equivalent.

"That's sufficient. Sit down. Keep any chill contained, Vandiese, Yhir - I expect to see improvement on your staff by the break."

Mathias retreated back to his desk.

While he was normally allowed to rest, he did not dare.

As Mr. Shields jumped into the lesson he knew of already in full-force, he concentrated on the quartz core.

Where he had originally pitted the veiny cluster of gentle azure and jagged cyan, his further modifications were spent enlarging the gap so that he created a space to mount it onto the Juniper Wood.

Even now, so concentrated on the task, he did not notice the creeping azure veins in the staff he haphazardly let sit on the wall as he focused on the quartz.

And mid-way through the lesson it, it released a deafening crack.

It was split right up the middle, across a seam of jagged cyan veins, quartering the once perfect, quartz sphere.

Mr. Shields' eye twitched at the interruption and he immediately launched a new question.

He continued lecturing the class as Mathias turned back to paper and pen.

Spending more time on the answer, trying to cover all his bases, Mathias eventually passed it to Mr. Shields - supplementing more information when directed.

Fara made a mistake in containment and the chill from the ice blast everyone in the back-row.

"O'Clair. Deal with it. Yhir-"

Fara was forced to answer another question as Lisanna shook violently at the frigid winds that assaulted her. Her own fiery orb burned brighter and brought (slightly-above) room-temperature back.

Mr. Shields was merciless until the break.

"We're done for now. You have a fifteen-minute break." He did not turn to leave; rather, "Huntis, Argentine, and Aliel - to the halls."

Each looked at the class despondently, but no one was brave enough to help them. Even Jennifer lowered her head seeing the sight of those she got to know best either taken away or given unreasonable demands.

Mathias reached for his throat. It stung a little, but he felt it was the best way to avoid troublesome tasks for awhile. He suspected Lisanna and Erik would be unable to keep a secret, so he opted to pretend he became temporarily mute.

Like the class.

Who could not overhear the conversation, but were trying desperately to. No one spoke in the time between, opting to not give Mr. Shields an excuse to call on them if he suddenly returned.

Mr. Shields returned as each of the three had ashen cheeks.

"I'll be back in ten minutes."

And left again.

"... Wh-what happened?" Mina ventured.

"... H-he said if anyone - anyone - causes issues on Sunday, then wh-whoever invited th-them it w-will be forced to run through every stage of the gauntlet we've gone through... alone... including the new one... and, and he'd wait until we were f-finished..." Ayla stammered.

"...?!"

Erik bit his lip and added, "we're... we're to ensure that anyone we invite is under no illusion that, that... that he will talk to them during the event... if they try, a lap will be added to whatever we're doing at the time..."

Wendi lowered her head too. "A-any money we m-make... a q-quarter will be split amongst the school and judges... w-with another q-quarter going to the winners..."

"That... the last one isn't so bad," Mina said tiredly. "B-but... isn't the rest...?"

"Y-yeah, but... it seems the Headmaster is already inviting lots of important people...!"

Their stammered explanations went on: it seemed that the Headmaster had been trying for a long-time to make the school less-monotonous. He was a firm believer in the school's general principle of pushing students to their limits, to have an accurate read of their abilities; however, he also was less enthused about the rather dull days he spent there. He was inspired by Mr. Shields' class in the past and wished to ensure that fragmented occurrence became a tradition.

It seemed that his responsibility governing the continuance of order was mind-numbing; so much so that right now he could only really become interested in chaos. As such, this was a perfect excuse to shake up the Academy's foundations to see what the walls would stand, what rubble would be swept away, and what gems could be found lost in the structure for decades.

Mr. Shields was partial to the man, but he loved regularity. And his job as a teacher was more to secure the Academy's resources for research; a pursuit that gave him no love for political outreaches and formalities designed to further them.

He also wasn't a fan of the school's choice in fabric for formal attire. Rather, society's choice of standard formal attire's fabric.

"So... we just have two days to get ready..." Erik finished.

"B-but the worst part...!" Wendi said.

She lifted up a notification.

'A call to all students to attend the first-annual first-year exhibition, hosted by Majin Academy and the Scylla class.

'The first of its kind, the Exhibition will display the blossoming talents of our first-years. In attendance will be three of the seven Republic's council and Raul Poniac, the Finance Minister; special appearances by regional talents like Clause Fellstone of the Fellstone Mercenary Group, Lord Knight Commander Salam Rettih, Alexander O'Clair of the O'Clair Merchant Group, Mathers Thatcher of the Thatcher Merchant Group, Shiro Kanata and Neveah Tucker of the Department of Medical Research, and others.

'We'll be hosting an auction with a portion of the proceeds directed to both the students' well-being and the non-academic capacities directed at internal-external relations. There will be one-hundred tickets available for general purchase for students, fifty for staff, and two-hundred allocated to outside members.'

It was so long that it necessitated a scroll.

How they produced it so quickly and achieved confirmations of a guest-list, no one knew. However, Wendi muttered, "... they're everywhere..."

Jasmine and Kira, being in the front, peeked outside and one nodded and the other gasped.

With a weak smile, Jasmine confirmed. "I see at least four posted already... But to think, Father... Honoured F-Father is coming..."

Jasmine had a faraway look with a taut smile, whereas Kira tried to soothe her shift in mood.

Lisanna buried her head in her arms. "F-Father...? W-why...?!"

There was no small amount of apprehension for both. Even Mathias froze as he thought of Claude being in attendance. It was definitely, definitely not his scene - at all. And if the sins of his father passed down onto his son...?

"... Did he just invite them knowing our relations - their relations...?!" Synthy's eyes twitched at the scroll Erik read shakily.

"Wh-what's d-done is d-done," Ayla laughed weakly. "We have to focus on one thing at a time... and try not to mess this up..."

"S-sorry e-everyone...!" Wendi was crying as she lowered her head deeply to the class.

Ayla guided her to her chest and hugged the girl, but the emotions in the class were in-flux. No one knew how to react, first with Mr. Shields' attitude, their goal of notoriety evidently being accomplished - at the expense of added pressure -, and the guest-list that made everyone gulp. Individually speaking, there was a great honour that those members of society would arrive. Collectively, it became problematic exceedingly quickly.

If there wasn't the motivation to ensure things were done well, there was now.