By Zephyria 
Professor Briana Casablanca’s Liberal World History was taken with Shayden Rose.
It was a class attended by all the first-year students of Baek-i-sip. Shayden, who occupied a seat by the window on the left, neither at the very front, nor the very back, nor the middle, argued that memorization subjects should inherently be this way.
Having not sat in a classroom with so many people learning something together since the days of reciting Gongzi, Mengzi, Xiaoxue, and Daxue, it was difficult to grasp easily.
However, the moment the professor turned her body a few times to write on the blackboard, he realized. This seat was a blind spot for her vision.
Professor Casablanca, who appeared to be just past forty, was beautiful. The lines of her hands moving to her elbows were clearly sculpted by rigorous training. It was evident that she had honed her etiquette, not swordsmanship or physical techniques.
She lectured and wrote on the board about the ancient dynasties and the birth of the Sierran Empire in a firm tone, though not harshly at the end. Some of it he already knew.
“Although there are particularly many atheists active in this Sierran Empire, people who believe in gods exist regardless of the reality of their existence. From the Satin Desert at the western edge to the Yuil Mountains in the north, and across the vast lands of the five dynasties—Yulan, Biban, Owen, Floyd, and Felix—common traces of the Nine Gods are found on all continents.”
Professor Casablanca asked everyone to open their textbooks to the same page and continued.
“This is about the Creation Myth of the Nine Gods. Shall we all read together, starting from the second line of the fourth page and continuing downwards?”
“On the first day, there was the sea; on the second day, the land; on the third day, the sun and moon were born, respectively. On the fourth day, all of that was shaped, and springs, rivers, flowers, birds, and beasts came into being. On the fifth day, humans were molded, and three of the gods who saw them fell into love simultaneously.”
He ran his hand over the intricately drawn, familiar illustration, much like the ones he had seen in storybooks when he was a child.
“While the three gods fought to possess humans, the land became desolate, humans lost their lives, and the six gods who tried to stop the fight fell into a deep sleep, exhausted. The god who succeeded by killing two gods resurrected the dead human on the sixth day, which seemed like it would never open, but it was no longer the human he loved. The god tried five more times and then voluntarily took a deep sleep that eternally led back to the beginning, which was the seventh day.”
The clear voices reading along with the book were still young, not yet having gone through puberty.
Even the emperors of old claimed to be sons of gods, but the ignorant believed in shamans, and those who could read believed in Buddhas and Daoist priests. Fighting, killing, and conquering were paths of humans and Asuras rather than gods. It was strange that the emperor of this land claimed to be a son of god.
“…And so, the humans born on the sixth day prospered and called themselves descendants of gods, and in place of the nameless god, they claimed kingship, for prosperity is the footprint of god.”
“Thank you, everyone. Thus, the six dynasties gathered in a circle, established their kingdoms on lands permitted by their strength, and began to exert their influence. I intend to test you on the royal genealogies of the five dynasties from pages 15 to 20, and the Sierran Imperial Genealogy from pages 21 to 24, by having you fill in the blanks on the midterm exam, so you should all memorize them.”
“Yes.”
“As new treaties and regulations were born each time a marriage alliance was formed between the dynasties, the royal family trees are, in essence, the history of the world. The Empire and the five kingdoms have clashed, absorbed, persuaded, and appeased each other’s flourishing cultures to arrive at where we are today; you must understand this. Now, let’s move on directly to page 25.”
After that came stories of the first treaties, laws, philosophies, and literature. He respectfully folded the pages the professor had mentioned would be on the exam and listened quietly to the lecture, but it was hardly easy to count and memorize the names of strangers when he could barely remember the name of the person next to him.
He scribbled with his pen, mimicking the person next to him as they wrote, and at some point, he began to let the lecture flow in one ear like listening to a storybook, only grasping the general flow. He was accustomed to sparring, but a written exam felt agonizing before it even began.
❖ ❖ ❖
Calypse Agrigent, who taught the Imperial Genealogy, was an even more formidable figure than Casablanca. He announced that the semester’s classes would be held in this classroom. As soon as he finished speaking, he turned around and began to write names densely on a blackboard that filled an entire wall.
As the man, who looked extremely stern and meticulous, waved his stick-like arms, characters as if carved remained. From the top left to the bottom right, every sentence, written without consulting a book, was someone’s name.
“The noble titles of the Sierran Empire include eight hundred hereditary titles and a staggering two thousand Single Ascent Titles. However, a title does not affect just one person. If there is a Count, there will be a Countess, a Viscount, a Viscountess, and then an heir…”
Calypse Agrigent murmured as he underlined the names he had written.
“These titles and honors merge into one person, are divided along bloodlines, or are sometimes sold for money depending on the circumstances. To audit, supervise, and punish all of this without any impropriety—that is the duty of the Imperial Nobility Yearbook Editorial Audit Team.”
Clack. A chalk mark was made precisely in the center of the blackboard. His mind was reeling.
“You cannot memorize all of this. Nor do you need to. Contracts, marriages, and births continue even at this very moment. However. You, who are before me now, must soon dive into a world entangled with countless interests and relationships.”
The man drew several lines between the names he had written. He added short words above the lines: Marriage, Alliance, Adoption, Succession…
“Upon graduating from the Academy, you too will receive appropriate Single Ascent Titles based on your performance, and some of you will marry those with hereditary titles. The knowledge you are learning now will only shine when that time comes.”
Calypse Agrigent’s voice was consistently stiff and resolute. The end of his voice cracked slightly, as if he had been shouting all day.
The man, tapping the center of the blackboard with the broken tip of his chalk, soon turned back and drew circles, triangles, and squares over dozens of the names he had written. Then he drew dozens of stars.
“I have placed stars next to names directly related to those currently present. These are relatives, guardians, or individuals with whom adoption is possible. As fellow Academy students graduating at the same time, you cannot help but influence each other. Memorize them. The names with circles are individuals you should know and get closer to. Likewise, memorize them. The names with triangles and squares are those requiring more detailed explanation, and due to their complex bloodline and contractual relationships, I will explain them over several days next time.”
The classroom was silent. No one made a sound.
One could have complained, but the fear of the man who held all these thousands upon thousands of names, their life histories, their locations, and their interaction statuses in his mind sealed their lips.
Everyone knew that the faces and names of the young boys and girls sitting here would all appear on the list of Single Ascent Titles three years from now.
Agrigent called four students seated in the front row and had them stand up to distribute handouts he had brought. The biographies of those with starred names were inscribed in just a few words.
Students whose names were marked with stars, as well as the children around them, could not speak, given the information about individuals they knew or did not know was suddenly presented to them.
“At this moment, you have realized how powerful a weapon information can be. Entering the Academy of the Sierran Empire means you are qualified to belong to the top 15% of the class.”
“…”
“We must know. The threats that will face us, the benefits we can bring, and the direction we must take. In this class, I intend to teach you how to process information so that you can use it effectively to carry on your lineage under your family name.”
The man, who had been raising his voice throughout, pulled over a simple chair that squeaked and sat near the far right corner of the blackboard.
In his hand was a bundle of unbound documents. He sat upright, his head bowed, looking down at the stack of papers.
The professor’s thin neck, with its protruding joints, added to his sensitive impression.
“What are you doing? Read. You must memorize. You can play a name-guessing game with the person next to you, or chat comfortably about what you know. From now until the end of class, this is time you have borrowed from me. I did not sell you to me; you have bought me. Use it when needed and return it.”
“…Yes…”
“Next week, we will have a pop quiz on the material covered today and the handouts. From now on, every week, we will give out a certain amount of handouts and have a five-question pop quiz ten minutes before the end. There will be no separate midterm or final exams, nor assignments. Study.”
The man’s gaze, which seemed as if he had never even swung a wooden branch, let alone a sword, felt chilling. His method of handling information was closer to that of the Tongchang (a supra-legal imperial intelligence agency led by eunuchs) rather than the Gaibang (a martial world intelligence organization led by beggars) or Haomun (a martial world intelligence organization led by innkeepers and courtesans).
It was not about pursuing events that had already occurred to resolve them, but about proactively initiating events so that everyone would follow him.
Only then did some people begin to huddle together and whisper. Is this real? Or, this marriage alliance was supposed to be impossible, voices seeking confirmation of facts, or simply murmuring the first line of the handout, trying to memorize it blindly. The classroom filled with such commotion.
Shayden Rose, who had confidently thought he would just review the already memorized Nobility Yearbook chart again, also looked at and examined the handout he received with a serious expression.
He and that child were both the eldest grandsons of Count families, yet the amount of information he already knew and the way he grasped it were different. It was a world he hadn’t known until he was pointed out.
Had he been arrogant, believing that merely possessing martial strength would allow him to overcome everything and live in peace?
He remembered the face of the previous head of the Namgung Family, who, after immersing himself in solitary training and repeated practice in the mountains to gain enlightenment and fame, had sat with his arms crossed during every meeting, not even pretending to listen, and only when the world was on the brink of collapse did he gather his direct and collateral family members under his wing and rise resolutely.
He wanted to tell him about today. He wanted to ask what was wrong with kneeling and bowing to flee his young nephews, who were merely Second-rate or Third-rate. He wanted to beg him to understand that knowledge acquired through the mind, not just physical training, was also strength, and to cross the river carefully one more time, as there might be eyes watching and guiding from high above.
His hands and arms, which had swung a sword so much, were still as white and beautiful as flour, with not a single scar.
What was it that he truly wanted to protect?
He found it difficult to distinguish whether he had been able to live the past ten years with a smiling face because he had no regrets from his previous life, or because there was still so much he didn’t understand from his previous life.
He simply hoped that after living fifty years in this land, his previous life would no longer be a source of regret.
He resolved to study properly, even if it meant reducing his training time. There were more things to learn, and more things he wanted to learn, than he had initially imagined. The names of Sierran still had many strokes and twisted his tongue, but they no longer felt merely unpleasant.
It was proof that he had come so far from his previous life.