"Did you hear about the new professor?"
"I tried enrolling in his class, but it was already full."
"...Already? They said he's from the Unknown, maybe everyone's just curious."
"Oh, man. I wanted to enroll in the class, I heard Princess Esme is in it."
"Yeah, she dropped all of her classes to attend the new professor's class."
"Wait… you want to be in the same class as Princess Esme? Are you crazy?"
"The professor is said to have killed a bunch of criminals on his own."
"I heard they made a mistake and thought he was a student at first. They're also saying he killed Lord James's son."
"Lord… Fionn is dead? Just how many rumours are surrounding the new teacher? Man, the only time I chose to sleep in years and a new class was formed?"
"I heard the last spot just got taken this morning by a Level 1 Student."
"A Level 1!? Why would they even prioritize a new student?"
My name Calum, no family name as I have no family… and I am the Level 1 student they were just referring to. There are about 850 students attending the Supreme College of Varoif, separated by 3 Levels.
I've been in the college for about 60 years now, and most of my peers have already advanced to Level 2. They said that themarians are supposed to have a better memory than most of the other races outside the territory, but I know first-hand that that isn't true.
After all, the students that I passed by just now were the peers that I mentioned earlier—I even met eyes with one of them, but other than a minute and fleeting glance, it didn't even seem like she recognized me.
But perhaps that is just what I am to them, to everyone. Nothing but a minute and fleeting existence. I envy the stories I hear from the outside, where people can just live in a blink of an eye, but each moment is more meaningful than the last.
And perhaps that is what existence is supposed to be? Perhaps it only has meaning if you know it ends?
My species have been called the apex predator of the entire Known Universe; beings without equal, the pinnacle of evolution. But that is not exactly true.
There are species that are faster than us, smarter than us, more adaptive than us. The only thing that is truly unchanging and uncontested is our strength. Strength without equal; no, perhaps that is not the right term.
Unfair.
Our strength was and is deemed so unfair to the rest of the universe…that it caged us.
The universe has stripped us of our morality, but not enough—not enough to forsake it.
We are stuck in a prison that we, ourselves, made in order to protect the universe from us.
Unlike the Evaniels, who are even biologically descended from a god, the themarians are stuck.
Unlike the Messengers, who are even too big to fit on 99.9% of the planets of the Known Universe, the themarians are stuck.
And perhaps as another way to mock us, we are practically able to live forever in this lonely, desolate, and meaningle—
"Get out of the way, retard."
And there it is again, as I feel the shoulder of another brush pass mine; as another push me away to enter the—
"You're blocking the way. What's your problem?"
"S… sorry."
I apologize to them, but I know that they know that it is not truly me that blocks the door, but the thoughts that weigh me. And as I entered this room, filled with familiar faces that I have seen for the last 60 years, everyone just looked at me as if I am a stranger… an outsider.
And that is true, I am an outsider. I am different from the rest of these people. I am enlightened to the truth of our universe—the truth that we are actually the weakest. What other species, what other race out there is trapped in their own domain?
Only the weak.
And as I walk toward an empty seat at the front of the class, I look not at the faces of my colleagues, but toward the window with a meaningless view. None of them even bothered to sit in the front of the class because they are not interested in learning the truth, only me.
They have joined for various other reasons, I have joined for only one—the professor is from the Unknown.
The truth and the unknown, words that could not be even more apart from each other, but very much the same. This is—
"You are in my seat, Calum."
"S—"
"You are in my seat. Transfer to another."
I looked toward the face of the only student that recognized me… only to—
"If I have to ask again, I will have you evicted from this class."
"Y… yes, Princess Esme."
And before Calum could even finish his thoughts, an unusually tall, but plain-looking woman without any sort of emotion on her face placed her hand on the table. And right there and then, Calum realized the true reason why no one was sitting at the front of the class—the entire row was reserved for the Princess.
Calum then quickly turned around, only to see that the only remaining seat left was at the corner at the very end of the class. And so, with another subtle glance at the Princess, Calum bowed his head and started heading up to the back.
It doesn't matter. I, Calum, am still—
"The professor arrives! Attention!"
But alas, before Calum could even make it halfway there, Princess Esme's loud voice caused the entire room to shiver and quake; with the other students all quickly standing from their seats—this was a national custom in Varoif.
When a student learns from a new professor for the first time, they must stand up to greet him or her with respect. If you are not in position, then that would only mean one thing—you do not respect your new professor.
And so, that is the story of how Calum was forcibly kicked out of the class by Princess Esme even before Riley could stand in front of the hall. As a professor, Riley could choose whatever he wanted to wear—but in the end, he just chose to wear the college's uniform, covered by a long black coat that reached his ankles.
Katherine was walking behind him, also wearing the same. This time, however, her hair was back to its original red color during her Scarlet Mage days; her clothes, also the college's uniform covered by a black coat that didn't go below her waist.
And although Calum was no longer present in the class, perhaps he wasn't missing anything at all, as minutes had already gone by… and Riley was just standing in front of everyone.
"..."
"..."
"...Why are you not saying anything, Riley?" And after a few more minutes, Katherine whispered into Riley's ear.
"I am imitating you, Katherine. I remember you just spacing out before Silvie Savelievna called you."
"Just…" Katherine's eyes quickly became dead. Of course, she remembers that—the only reason she was spacing out was that she was thinking about Riley in the first place,
"Just start the class."
"Very well," Riley nodded before finally taking a step forward and actually looking at his class. And as soon as he did so, the students that were looking at each other and wondering what was happening once again straightened their bodies,
"Greetings, themarian students. My name is Riley Ross. I have killed tens of billions of people all around the Known Universe. My purpose of visiting Theran is to bury my biological mother here by the wish of my adoptive mother, but as you may very well see, fate has other plans."
"..."
"My original purpose for wanting to visit Theran was to hear each and every last one of you scream, and I will," Riley nodded to himself, "As some of you may have already heard, I am Princess Aerith's lover—and that is all for my introduction, all of you may return to your seats."
"Everyone, bow to the professor and take your seats!" Princess Esme once again shouted. And in perfect unison, everyone bowed their heads before sitting at the same time.
"Hm," Riley nodded at Esme as he saw this, "Since all of you are here, I would assume that you already know what this class is. I named this class Torture 101, and therefore…
…I need a volunteer."
"..."
"..."
"...What?"