The man was ready for the afternoon.
His notebook was smoothly pressed into his lap, quill magically inked and ready to jot down his report. Anything that might have caught his attention in regard to his target. In front of him, two young Students were about to battle and wage oneself against the other.
Sword versus Spell.
Magic versus Might.
Along with other remarks that captured the essence of rivalry between physical prowess pushed to its limits and magical ability trained and battle-tested. He himself could have proudly said he managed to mix the two separate practices like oil and water into… oily water?
The lack of a proper example did not matter, and neither did his thoughts right now as he turned his attention elsewhere. One did not even need a Skill to distinguish between the two. One was brooding, silent yet careful, and the other was jubilant, almost-reckless if not for the mischief lighting up their face.
The Archer readied his bow, a simple arrow in its bow while the Mage concentrated on his staff, lightning crackling all around him.
"Don't get yourself electrocuted, Calum!" Russel shouted and waved around his arms, much to the behest of his seatmate, Han. This time around, Defense Against Mages and Physical Combatants were split accordingly based on their Class.
People like Han and Russel were seen as two-timers who couldn't pick either side.
None of that mattered either. Somehow, his quill's nib barely moved, but the man's thoughts were reflected in the paper—everything that had happened for the last twenty-one days had been documented.
Would this prove anything?
In the man's side was a small tankard, cold brewed and familiar to him. While he may have decided to change his pursuits and accepted his role as a Professor to assist his aging grandparents, it didn't mean that he gave up his old habits.
While he still needed to drop by the bar rarely now, his apprentice doing a good job—there was still something he needed to unearth here. His lips moved, but no sound came out. And even a lip reader might have not even seen it.
"The mystery of his… the two's appearance and growth?"
Lightning and thunder erupted in the afternoon, somehow casting the setting sun into oblivion. Someone clearly had achieved Class Consolidation if they were at this level. Or it was the effect of the Mage's trump skill by and large.
But he still didn't pay attention.
Owen Liddell thumbed through the pages of his research and sighed inwardly. This was all of his personal choice, wrought forth from the Wyvern incident, although he was positive that he wasn't the only one who gained interest in the two boys.
Wizard Lavelda might have lost her Student when Timothy became a Noble and was taken into the Crowel House, it didn't mean she'd neglect everyone else.
Neither would she ignore Han if the boy proved to be interesting.
If Professor Owen Liddell had paid more attention and used his Skill to check, then—he still wouldn't have actually seen the full Class of Calum either way. The Dragonbane Archer dodged the lightning bolt and used his arrows, wooden ones and aimed it at the Mage currently reveling in his power.
A [ Piercing Shot ] was disintegrated into ashes.
Others had already put up barriers, mana shields, and Lady Angelika was already throwing off her metal armor with great annoyance while the others watched on. Her armor was enchanted, but lightning still hurt.
This was a duel, so they had to watch.
If this was getting a little overboard then the Professor himself would have interfered, right? This was what had run through the minds of most Students as the now Storm Mage threw another lightning bolt into the direction of the Archer.
"Accelerated leveling unlike to be seen by those in our modern age, and yet lacking any Special Class—no, there was the blank." No matter how much artifact he pulled from Kraelonia Academy's secret storage room, none had been able to break through the unexplainable gap his Skill did not allow him to see.
While it was true that the man helped Han with his Classes and Skills, because he was still a Student like everyone else, it didn't mean that the boy was completely free from suspicious eyes.
"Surely it means that he has someone backing him from the shadows."
This was the conclusion of the Professor-Drinker as he sipped his drink. And it made sense, because his grandfather wouldn't have just enrolled and accepted both Timothy and Han for nothing. So while the mystery of a hidden Class was laid out in the open for this man, the only questions in his mind were—what Class and who was hiding it?
A great sponsor and patron?
Did his grandfather know? Maybe he could just ask—A stray lightning bolt shot and barely missed the patch of grass that the Professor was sitting on. He looked up from his drink to find a great number of Students cowering from one of their classmates.
"Huh."
Calum was actually still alright, the boy still shooting arrows and weaved through the grass. Predicting and avoiding said lightning bolts, and while he might have no [ Lightning Immunity ] or [ Greater Resistance ]… it still meant something if one had lived in the heart of Endless Passes for most of one's youth.
The Professor finally downed his drink and half-wondered if Swordsman Uriel would have allowed the fight to get down to this scale, maybe Professor Carnus would have been wiping his tears in joy at the brilliance displayed by one of his Students learning the arcane arts.
Jeanne might have been disturbed at the cackling of said young Storm Mage—often one's power got to their heads. Owen Liddell watched the visceral display of lightnings, almost maniacal laughing, and then threw the empty mug right at the back of Student's head.
The young Mage promptly fell over, knocked out.
Calum didn't appreciate it all, or at least, one thought the young man thought that way based on their facial expression, but the Professor simply shook his head. "Alright, bring this one over to the clinic? Maybe the city's still open… though I haven't actually cracked open his skull. He still needs rest though, so if anyone is his friend—"
A couple of Mage boys drew into the grass and promptly lifted the guy away with the help of a levitation spell and was carried away back into the Academy. Calum returned to his seat with relieved friends and impressed classmates.
—-
While it had definitely been… shocking, Han was actually elated to have observed a fight from one of the better Mages in their class, no offense to the others. "I wish I could shoot lightning out of a hammer," Han said once everything was over. Maybe it wasn't too late to request additions to Theodore's enchantment.
Russel raised a brow at him. "Some kind of relic class weapon?"
Han wanted to say god-class, but didn't know if there was anything like that. He only nodded, "Yeah. Some kind of enchantment that not only returns the weapon to its user but also gets lightning features to it."
"You're best off dreaming, then. That rarity of such weapons and artifacts like that are only available in the deepest of dungeons or dangerous places," Russel said. "But then again, what is a man if he does not dream?"
The philosophical statement made Han look back at Russel—
To which the young man responded with a raised brow. "What? I read that from a book once."
"Nah, it's nothing—I actually like it."
"Well, there must be a reason why I think you're cool." Russel grinned. "People of similar mindset get along, no doubt."
"I guess." Or people who thought too alike to butt heads. But either way, Han only grinned back lightly. The reason he was here… well, it certainly just wasn't power, or else he might have attempted to leave and do some grinding in search of something like slimes to vanquish.
Somehow, distant in feeling, Professor Owen Liddell was discussing the danger of getting consumed by magical power—somehow, it really affected the head? Akin to the Skill [ Berserk ] for the Berserker class, sometimes, Mages also got caught up in their own magic-induced frenzy.
Han paid half-attention to it. Mentally noting it down before Russel yawned and rubbed his eye. "Guess it's one more lesson with Professor Orleans and then we're done for the day. You'll be joining us for dinner, right?"
"... Of course." Han still had time until he needed to return and wake. Go to the carnival slash theme park with the Mermaid, collect pearls and profit, then rinse and repeat it hopefully until he retires or something. But Russel's offhand statement still got him thinking about something beyond that.
He had almost forgotten it—dreaming.
Not simply the endless cycle of living, working, studying and all that. It almost felt like he had a similar conversation with Iola—Chan Lee about it. Doing what he wanted? It was weird for someone raised by his… parents to work hard for a good life. Someone told to grind not with the slimes, but in the work hours and fall along with the rest of the crowd.
Han Jing finally remembered why, even though he felt guilty of missing out on the Autumn Festival event, he didn't want to go home and be with his family. Somehow, this was always something his father wouldn't have accepted at all.
Han rubbed his eye and stood up.
Clearing his head—
"Mister Han, have I dismissed your class already?" Professor Liddell shot him a look. The man was still discussing in the courtyard, the rest of the class still paying attention. "Or are you uninterested in studying the dangers of magic when you yourself are trying to learn it?"
Han scratched the back of his head, ignoring some chuckles and snickers. "Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom?"
Both the Professor and Student stared at one another for a good second, before the older man waved a hand. Somehow, almost dismayed at the words of the younger man who might have been an apprentice. "Alright, unnecessary information I suppose, unless you have a wish to be attacked at your unguarded moments. Very well, class dismissed. Carry on with your business."