Chapter 20 : Storm’s New Instructor (4)

A place where only the most outstanding and talented magicians in the kingdom gather.

As the tower located in the capital, its reputation was unmatched, and the annual academic achievements and research records were always top-tier.

Especially, it was the home of many magicians who had made their names in the kingdom’s history, including the kingdom’s greatest magical hero, ‘Brandon Mulick.’

Thanks to the extraordinary predecessors who passed through the tower, its members had immense pride in their affiliation.

“Jane! Good morning!”

Jane Mulick was one of those members of the Tristan Tower.

This year marked exactly two years since she joined the tower as a magical hero.

Though it was hard to say she had completely shed her status as a rookie after just two years, she had begun to handle many of the tower’s duties on her own, and she was steadily producing research results.

Moreover, she was the daughter of the tower’s most celebrated hero, Brandon Mulick.

Not only was she skilled, but her lineage was impeccable.

She was the rising star of the Tristan Tower.

“You’re late, Tanelly.”

Jane scolded her friend and fellow entrant to the tower, who had just greeted her.

Tanelly Tillope.

The eldest daughter of the Count Tillope family, a renowned magical household, just like the Marquis Mulick family.

Their environments were similar, they were the same age, and even their elite backgrounds were alike.

It was only natural for the two to become close.

“Cut me some slack. I was late because I was talking to my little brother this morning.”

At the mention of her brother, Jane blinked.

“You mean the one who’s entering the military academy?”

“Yeah. He suddenly got his swordsmanship fate, so he’s the first in our family to enter the swordsmanship department—a total anomaly.”

“Isn’t the semester still a bit far off?”

“It is. But he suddenly told me this morning about how he really wants to learn from a certain instructor. What was it again… a new instructor who was in the paper?”

“The paper?”

Jane’s eyebrow twitched at the unfamiliar term.

Most members of the tower had a rather reclusive nature and weren’t too interested in worldly affairs.

In other words, they didn’t read newspapers at all.

At that, Tanelly burst into laughter.

“Haha, apparently, there’s a swordsman who took down fifteen Kelleil by himself. So, he even made it to the front page of the kingdom’s newspaper.”

“That’s not exactly impossible, though.”

“Come on, Jane~ It’s not that easy, either. And he’s not a magician like us, he’s a sword-wielding hero.”

Indeed, for a sword-wielding hero to take down fifteen mid-level monsters wasn’t an easy feat.

At least the third crossroads.

Perhaps even the fourth crossroads might have bloomed for such a hero.

For someone like that to suddenly appear as a new instructor, it certainly was something the kingdom would pay attention to.

Tanelly shrugged, seemingly exhausted from her conversation with her brother.

“Anyway, once he enters the academy, he says he absolutely wants to learn from that instructor. What was the name again? Edgar Mulick?”

But then.

“…?”

A familiar yet wrong-sounding name reached Jane’s ears.

Her puzzled gaze turned toward Tanelly.

“Huh? Now that I think about it… Mulick?”

Tanelly, also feeling that something was off, blinked and looked at Jane.

As they thought more about it, the name was definitely one they both knew.

Because.

Jane had spent much of her time complaining bitterly about that scoundrel.

That’s how much Edgar was known as the disgrace of the family.

“…What?”

That Edgar had become an instructor in the swordsmanship department.

And not just any instructor, but the new instructor her best friend’s little brother desperately wanted to learn from.

Faced with such an absurd twist, Jane and Tanelly could only blink at each other in disbelief.

When an instructor teaches, what is the most important thing?

It probably varies depending on the standards and methods each instructor sets, but I believe it is thoroughly established theory and the ability to demonstrate it.

Mastery of a martial art to the level of being able to “deconstruct” it.

And the skill to convince the students of its validity.

Without those two things, an instructor would find it hard to gain recognition.

I learned this from my only swordsmanship mentor, Sir Pelin, before my return, and I continued this approach when I served as a knight commander, teaching my subordinates.

It is different from the role of a teacher or lecturer who merely teaches certain theories.

Especially when the field in question is the most universal martial art, ‘swordsmanship.’

That tendency is even more pronounced.

“A swordsmanship focused on a single characteristic can sometimes exert overwhelming power. Since it forsakes other aspects, it pours everything into that one feature. Therefore, this Valut swordsmanship, though unfamiliar at first glance, demonstrates powerful strength in certain areas compared to traditional swordsmanship.”

I was utilizing that experience as I conducted the lecture demonstration.

The demonstration was one of the two practice processes planned by Akina for today.

The first was a basic lecture demonstration.

It was conducted to briefly assess whether my teaching skills were at the level required to instruct cadets.

Of course, I received full marks for my lecture demonstration during the instructor exam, but since Akina hadn’t participated as a supervisor back then, she had no concrete knowledge of it.

So I showed her exactly what I did during the instructor exam.

“Edgar Instructor, have you taught somewhere before coming to the academy?”

Akina, genuinely surprised by my teaching skills, asked me.

“I’ve got some experience.”

It’s nothing to be that surprised about.

Though I might not have been in a position worthy of being called an educator, I have a long history of teaching swordsmanship to my junior knights.

Especially since I worked my way up from the bottom as a soldier, I could proudly say that I was more familiar with “basic training” than anyone else.

With that, we easily passed the first practice process and moved on to the second.

“We’ll now conduct a temporary demonstration of the lecture that Edgar Instructor will offer in the future. Please consider me as a cadet—an aspiring hero—and teach me.”

Once the new semester begins, I will be assigned as a supervisory instructor and will open new lectures.

However, for a newly selected hero instructor to blindly proceed with lectures is bound to lead to difficulties.

No one can predict what unexpected situations might occur.

Akina insisted on a rehearsal to prepare for such moments and proposed a one-on-one teaching role-play as part of that process.

The location was the swordsmanship department training room.

The participant was my senior instructor, Akina Crowflin.

The roles were instructor and cadet.

In other words, it was a kind of role-play.

Akina suddenly raised her hand and asked a question.

Valut Swordsmanship.

It was a pure question prompted by the unfamiliar name that had never appeared on the continent before.

Her ability to stay in character despite her curiosity was impressive.

“That’s correct. As I mentioned earlier, it’s a swordsmanship that sacrifices certain elements to focus solely on slashing.”

“Why are you teaching a new swordsmanship instead of sticking with the Tristan swordsmanship? For first-year cadets, the basics and fundamentals are the most important, aren’t they?”

“That’s a strange question. Didn’t Cadet Akina enroll in this course because she was curious about this swordsmanship?”

“Ah.”

Akina had asked the question as a senior instructor rather than a cadet. She seemed flustered for a moment as the role-playing broke, but I smiled lightly and answered her question.

“The range of swordsmanship that first-year cadets can learn is not that wide. They need a swordsmanship that’s both universal and can help them build a solid foundation. That’s why I’m introducing variety, without infringing on that basic area, so that the cadets can find a style that suits them.”

Akina quietly observed me in response to my serious answer.

In truth, this practice session was entirely different from the earlier demonstration of basic instruction. While the previous demonstration covered simple theory and basic swordsmanship, this time, I was conducting a proper trial lesson of the course I intended to teach in the future.

Though it was still in the conceptual stage, or a temporary class at best, Akina had suggested I try whatever came to mind.

After some thought, I decided to present an impromptu lecture on the Valut Swordsmanship.

The Valut Swordsmanship was a modified version of the foundational swordsmanship I had learned in the Valut Empire before my return. I recreated it with some alterations.

In name, it was Valut Swordsmanship, but in reality, it felt like a “Revised Edition of Valut Swordsmanship.”

At first, I considered giving it a new name, but…

“The Shifting Hands of Fate!”

“You are a hero who has mastered the Valut Swordsmanship by chance. This chance is bound to the destiny of a Swordsman.”

When “The Shifting Hands of Fate” suddenly appeared, my dilemma vanished.

After practicing and reviewing the techniques of this swordsmanship in my head, it naturally registered as a “Chance.”

It made sense, given that no one in this world could rival my mastery of this swordsmanship, even in the otherworld.

“Fate itself acknowledges it as Valut Swordsmanship.”

Thanks to fate’s intervention, the final name was settled as Valut Swordsmanship.

Since there was no original version of the swordsmanship in this world, calling it Valut Swordsmanship posed no problem.

“This swordsmanship… certainly has enough merit to be taught as a new course.”

The stances and subtleties of the swordsmanship, along with the clear objectives of the lecture, were all meticulously explained.

Akina nodded silently in agreement.

Teaching this as a new course seemed like a feasible idea, and her positive evaluation meant that it could likely move forward without issue.

With such a favorable outcome, my expression naturally brightened.

“It seems Cadet Akina has a keen eye.”

“…Instructor Edgar, the role-play is over.”

“Oh, I apologize, Senior Instructor.”

After a brief scolding from Akina, who furrowed her brows, we continued our discussion about the course.

“If Instructor Edgar wishes, you can go ahead and establish this course on Valut Swordsmanship.”

“Is it possible to establish a course right away?”

“You’ll need approval from the Administrative Department of the Swordsmanship Division, but since I’ll be giving my full support as your senior instructor, it should be approved quickly. All you need to do is submit the course syllabus and a detailed lesson plan.”

I see.

Even as a designated guide instructor, I couldn’t just teach a course at will.

For new courses, the decision must pass through the Administrative Department, and even then, if the senior instructors weren’t on board, it would be difficult to move forward.

“It’s not as impartial as I thought.”

I revised my understanding of the Tristan Military Academy in my mind.

A place revered by the kingdom and capital.

One of the most prestigious academies on the continent.

A breeding ground for heroes that prioritized skill and fate.

It had many titles, but seeing that one’s influence depended on their relationship with senior instructors, it seemed that internal politics also played a role.

It occurred to me that my appointment as a guide instructor might have had something to do with my connection to the Mulick family.

“Anyway, I think that’s enough practice for today. Good work.”

“Thank you for your effort, Senior Instructor.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll start teaching you about your research duties.”

“Yes, understood.”

With a satisfied look, Akina left the training room.

It was the moment when my first day as an instructor officially came to an end.

Stretching, I prepared to leave as well.

“I could really go for some peppermint tea right now…”

I began walking, almost entranced, toward the research lab, thinking of the person I knew who made the best peppermint tea.

Of course, I could already imagine her stern face saying, “Sir Edgar, I am a butler, not a maid,” which was a little intimidating.

But I still couldn’t resist the thought of a warm cup of tea after a long day of work.