“Is it because this old man is too short to see your answers?”
“...”
The Azure Garden student's lips trembled.
His language center, which just moments ago had been citing various sources to elevate dwarf jokes to the level of traditional imperial culture, now felt as if its core had been shattered by a hammer, leaving him unable to utter a single coherent syllable for the longest time.
“P-Professor...”
“What?”
The old dwarf narrowed his eyes.
“Weren't you quite the talker just now?”
“This old man listened for a while behind the podium. What was it? ‘Racial equality doesn't mean immunity to humor’? You made a lot of sense.”
“As it happens, this old man likes students with independent thinking skills the most.”
As he spoke, his lips slowly parted to reveal two rows of stark white teeth.
“For the rest of this class, you few will be responsible for independent thinking.”
“And this old man will be responsible for asking the questions.”
Danger—!
The faces of the students who had been laughing the loudest just now instantly turned deathly pale.
Lynn shook his head in pity.
‘The law of conservation of happiness is in effect~ You laughed so hard earlier, but now you have to pay it all back~’
The old dwarf did not lose his temper immediately. He slowly dragged a square wooden box out from behind the podium and stepped onto it.
As his gray-white head rose bit by bit, finally clearing the edge of the podium, his brow finally smoothed out in satisfaction.
“This old man is Grom Bronzebeard.”
“Starting today, I will be in charge of your 《Basic Elemental Theory》.”
With that, he picked up a piece of chalk and drew a heavy line across the obsidian blackboard. A screeching friction sound echoed through the classroom.
【Elements do not obey humans.】
A line of bold, rough handwriting quickly appeared before everyone's eyes.
“The vast majority of fools develop a naive illusion after their first successful spellcast.”
“They think that fire burns because of them, the wind changes direction because of them, and the earth obediently rises at their command.”
Grom turned around, his sharp gaze sweeping across the classroom.
“But the truth is exactly the opposite.”
“Mages have never truly commanded elements.”
“Everything you do is nothing more than using mana as bargaining chips and spell formations as a language to make a temporarily reasonable request to the elements.”
“For low-tier spells below Tier 4, even if the request fails, there probably won't be any serious consequences.”
He paused, his expression becoming solemn.
“But for mid-tier or even high-tier spells above Tier 4, if the request fails—!”
He raised his thick, stubby finger and gently snapped it.
Sizzle—
A fist-sized flame materialized out of air.
In the next instant, the flame ballooned rapidly, transforming into a fiery beast's head with its bloody maw wide open, roaring and lunging toward the front row!
“Waaah!”
Several students shrank back and covered their heads in terror. However, the flame dispersed with a bang less than half a foot away from them, leaving behind only a gust of scorching wind that ruffled everyone's hair.
“That is the elements rejecting your request,” Grom said as he calmly retracted his hand.
“At best, the spell formation collapses. At worst, the spell backfires.”
“And if it's even more severe...”
He looked at the Azure Garden youth who had been telling the joke earlier.
“Next year's freshmen will be able to see your name in their textbooks... of course, as a negative example of someone exploding to death due to a ‘mana backlash’.”
Seeing the once lively and cheerful atmosphere quiet down, he nodded in satisfaction.
“Now then, let us start with a most basic question.”
Grom raised his hand and tapped the blackboard.
“What roles do mana, mental power, and free elements play respectively in the process of spellcasting?”
After saying this, his gaze shifted, locking precisely onto the boy who had told the first dwarf joke.
“You.”
“Since you have such deep research into dwarf culture, surely a mere Basic Elemental Theory won't stump you, right?”
The Azure Garden youth stood up stiffly, racking his brains.
“M-Mana is responsible for providing energy, mental power is responsible for... thinking, and free elements are responsible for...”
“Responsible for being used?”
Grom's beard twitched. “Very well. In a single short sentence, you have successfully avoided all the correct answers.”
“Next.” Grom gave a sinister smile and pointed to the student who had brought up the "dwarf cavalry."
After hearing his halting and ridiculous answer, he didn't even have the energy to scold him: “...Utterly foolish!”
Over the next few minutes, as if checking the purity of ore, Grom called up the "pioneers" who had laughed the loudest one by one.
“What are the three basic active states of the fire element?”
“Burning, explosion, and... very hot?”
“Excellent. The third state is called the ‘very hot state.’ Tomorrow, this old man will submit a thesis to the Royal Academy of Sciences on your behalf.”
...
“Why is the earth element the most suitable to serve as a spell formation anchor?”
“Because... it's relatively heavy?”
“It seems your head is also very suitable to serve as an anchor.”
...
“What is the essential difference between the water element and the ice element?”
“One is water, and the other is ice.”
“Perfect nonsense... though at least it is more rigorous than your dwarf jokes.”
...
After a full round of questions and answers, the few doomed students went from flushing red at the start, to dodging his gaze, and finally to giving up all struggle.
Their expressions were so peaceful, it was as if they had already transcended the mortal realm and looked down on life itself.
“...You are truly the worst class I have ever taught!”
Grom stroked his beard and turned his gaze back to the other students, impatiently spreading open the roster in his hand.
‘Tsk—’ he clicked his tongue inwardly.
Sanlais and the others had claimed that the students of this class were all extraordinary, perhaps even far surpassing the Golden Generation from thirty years ago.
‘What a joke. Just with these wet-behind-the-ears brats?’
“The academy's sorting mechanism is truly getting more and more absurd. With your level, you actually deserve to be called the elites of the ‘Azure Garden’?”
He let out a disdainful sneer.
“Very well. I hope the honor students of the Red Garden... won't disappoint me next.”
“Otto Balk.”
Grom looked down and scanned the roster.
The red-haired burly youth in the first row on the left stood up in response, scratching his head awkwardly.
“If a standard Fireball spell collapses rapidly after leaving the caster's control, which part is most likely to have gone wrong?”
Otto furrowed his thick brows and pondered for a moment. “Insufficient mana output.”
“And the solution?”
“Increase mana output.”
“And if it still collapses?”
“Keep increasing it.”
“What if you increase it to the absolute limit of the spell formation's tolerance?”
Otto's gaze gradually grew firm.
“Then reconstruct the spell formation's structure and strive to condense an even larger fireball.”
“...” Grom fell silent.
The old dwarf waved his hand wearily, gesturing for him to sit down.
Ah, the Sacred Capital Academy is completely doomed.
“Caroline Mist.”
“Present!”
The wheat-skinned girl sprang up, her short golden hair tracing a sharp arc in the air.
“Even with the same Wind Blade spell, why is there a difference in the speed and sharpness when cast by different mages?”
“Because everyone's understanding of the wind is different!”
Caroline rested a hand on her hip, answering with absolute confidence. “The true wind should not be bound by formulas and spell formations. As long as you feel its breath and follow its rhythm, you will naturally be able to—”
“Stop,” Grom furrowed his brows. “Speak like a human.”
“...Go by feel.”
“Very well. You can shut up now.”
Caroline slumped back into her seat dejectedly.
“Samuel Crown.”
The black-haired youth wrapped in a thick blanket slowly raised his head.
“In ice element spells, why does over-compression lead to the premature collapse of the spell formation?”
“...” The black-haired youth remained completely silent.
“This old man is asking you.”
“...”
“Forget it, you can scram too.”
“Ruby Field.”
“P-Present!” The cute brown-haired girl jumped up like a startled small animal, nearly dropping her textbook to the floor.
Grom's tone softened slightly. “When the earth element serves as a spell formation anchor, what is the most important thing to keep in mind?”
“O-One needs to pay attention to the flow of ley lines and elemental density...”
Ruby clutched the corner of her shirt nervously, her voice as soft as a mosquito's buzz.
“If the anchor falls on an active ley line, it cannot be forcibly fixed. Instead, one should construct a diversion structure along the direction of the ley line...”
She spoke softer and softer, pausing after every half-sentence to observe the professor's expression. However, her answer was flawless, and she even added an obscure method of handling it that was not mentioned in the textbook.
Grom's eyes flashed with a hint of surprise.
“Very good. In view of your excellent performance, I have decided to award you twenty academy points.”
“T-Thank you, Professor!” Ruby gasped. She covered her small mouth, her surprised tone almost causing her to bite her tongue.
“At least not all of you have heads filled with nothing but ale foam.”
Grom scanned the classroom, his gaze pausing briefly on the Princess and the Saintess. He then ignored the eager expression of the blonde dumpling and cleared his throat twice.
He had heard of these two's abilities, so there was no need to bother with these superficial tests.
‘Right, isn't there one more person in the Red Garden...?’
He looked down at the roster and frowned.
‘Lynn von Reinhardt.’
‘The connected student who was sorted into the Red Garden two months ago without any assessment, solely due to the Grand Duke's hint!’
Tsk, what bad luck!
The Red Garden's performance was a mixed bag.
The Azure Garden's theoretical knowledge was passable, but they lacked actual practical understanding.
Then...
Grom's gaze shifted slowly, finally landing on the exceptionally eye-catching white head in the front row.
The White Garden.
The only White Garden student of this class, and the first exception in decades.
A student who could stand above all of the Red Garden and be placed in the White Garden alone by the academy must possess a talent in a certain field that bordered on breaking common sense.
The answers of those few from the Red Garden just now... could barely be considered human-level. So, this White Garden representative should at least let him hear some truly stunning insights, right?
At this thought, Grom's originally harsh expression softened slightly.
“Irene Durandal.”
“Eh?”
The white-haired dumpling, who was busy looking down at the illustrations in the textbook, trembled all over.
She raised her head blankly, looking left and right first. After confirming there was no second Irene around, she timidly pointed a finger at herself.
“M-Me?”
Rate on N.U.
