By Zephyria 
As with last year, the curriculum for the advanced swordsmanship class was to have students of the same level spar throughout the entire first semester.
It was a process of gathering boys and girls with the potential for Transcendent Peak, that is, the possibility of becoming Sword Masters, and sharpening their skills intensely.
Naturally, some graduated and some new students joined, but many of the faces from the previous semester were still present.
Under Maelo Sanson’s guidance, I saw the eyes of the children taking the advanced swordsmanship class for the first time widen with admiration.
I must have looked the same way this time last year. A laugh escaped me involuntarily.
At the center of those people stood Walter Orgen.
“You’ve grown a bit taller since then, Young Master Ernhardt.”
“You are the same as ever, Senior.”
“No, I must be the same.”
Today too, Walter Orgen had his long blonde hair meticulously braided and pinned up at the back of his head.
If he were going to let it down immediately after class, he could have simply tied it up in a ponytail like Lucilla. The reason suddenly piqued my curiosity. I was not the type to endure my curiosity for long.
“About your hair, sir.”
“Huh? My hair? What about it?”
“Is there a particular reason you always braid it when you come?”
Walter ran a hand over the back of his head. The corners of his lips, as he chuckled, were slender like a fox’s.
“Someone I like, likes long hair.”
Just then, Maelo Sanson called out to Walter from over there.
Walter received the first sparring slot again this year. Benjamin had mentioned that because he had deferred graduation multiple times, he was given the front position to serve as a good example for the students.
I too had often stepped forward in the beginner swordsmanship class to set an example for the children.
Walter Orgen’s consideration for his sparring partners, if nothing else, was exceptional, so I thought it made sense.
Suddenly, a strange thought occurred to me.
The advanced swordsmanship class only accepted students with the potential for Transcendent Peak, that is, the potential of a Sword Master.
Students were selected and admitted based on the discerning eye of Maelo Sanson, a Martial artist of Hwagyeong, who could clearly see their potential.
Even if Walter Orgen started taking the advanced swordsmanship class when he became a senior, five years had already passed.
Yet, he still hadn’t reached the Peak, remaining at the First-rate level?
How could this be, when he diligently trained under Maelo Sanson’s guidance, not touching any other subjects and only honing his swordsmanship?
Until now, I had only seen his swordsmanship as clumsy. Now that I was paying attention, it looked different.
Walter struck at swords he could have easily parried, splitting the timing and deflecting them awkwardly.
Amidst his agile movements, he slowed his actions by a quarter beat of breath.
Even though he had plenty of room to breathe, he narrowed his brow and put on a strained expression.
When receiving the opponent’s sword, he leaned his body back excessively, making it seem like he was being pushed back.
As I watched intently, Rubel, who was standing beside me, nudged my shoulder.
“Why?”
“Just bored.”
How could anyone be bored watching that sparring match?
But children are like that, so I just patted Rubel’s head a little to appease him.
The child leaning against my shoulder bent his tall frame down so I could easily pat his head.
Suddenly, Benjamin choked badly, and I ended up patting his back too.
Honestly, these children were so needy.
❖ ❖ ❖
World Geography class. I saw Professor Briana Casablanca again after a long time.
Briana, who had taught introductory World History last year, was a woman whose every movement was elegant.
As is common in classes that emphasize writing and memorization, Briana gave a brief self-introduction and stood before the large blackboard with chalk in hand. Then, with graceful lines, she drew a map of the continent.
The shape of the map appeared on the large blackboard in an instant.
I was amazed that she had memorized not only the events of each region by year, as she had done before, but also the names of each area.
Without a map, if this woman were by my side, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting lost.
Although I had seen maps of the continent several times before, the sight of a giant map being drawn by hand right before my eyes was strangely overwhelming.
Familiar national borders were drawn across the continent map, which resembled a wide palm spread open like butterfly wings.
The Shatun Desert, the Five Kingdoms, and the Sierran Empire were all depicted on the map. I sat up straight, carefully observing the letters Briana wrote on the map.
As it was the first class, I expected her to start with the Sierran Empire.
I was mistaken.
“Everyone, you all know that there is a mountain range called the Yuil Mountains in the north of the world. But is this truly the end of the world?”
When I had seen the continent map before, I thought the continent resembled a butterfly. I had learned that the Sierran Empire was on the eastern wing, the Shatun Desert to the west, and the Five Kingdoms situated between the Empire and the desert.
However, the professor colored the area above the Yuil Mountains with the broad side of her chalk.
“Why is the Yuil Mountains called the Yuil Mountains?”
“…”
No one answered. Briana wrote the two characters, Yuil, separately next to the map.
“Yuil, meaning ‘only one.’ The Yuil Mountains are the only mountain range on this vast continent. Of course, there are many other mountains spread across various regions below it, but only the Yuil Mountains are worthy of being called a ‘mountain range.'”
The professor pointed with her chalk to the white, wide expanse above the continent.
“Above the Yuil Mountains, this area, we call Magic territory. A place teeming with monsters, mana, and chaos. No one knows what lies beyond these mountains. The mana density is so high that ordinary people who haven’t specifically trained in mana would find it difficult even to breathe.”
From the spot she pointed to, she drew three arrows pointing downwards.
“The Yuil Mountains act like a barrier, blocking the mana and monsters from Magic territory. It is the only mountain range that allows this continent to remain a continent, and we refer to it with reverence.”
The professor traced a line drawn horizontally twice, darkening it.
“The Yuil Mountains. The last bulwark humanity must protect.”
In the Sierran Empire, artifacts were used to measure the height of mountains by ascending to their peaks.
One method involved placing one of a pair of artifacts named ‘Haesujipyo’ on the sea level and the other on the summit, then activating the Magic Formula.
However, the professor stated that the highest peak of the Yuil Mountains could not be calculated. This was because no one had ever reached its summit.
Sansone, who had reached the Hwagyeong realm, had nearly died there during his Transcendent Peak days. It was not something to be seen lightly.
I learned that some parts of the Yuil Mountains were habitable, and that the Duke Widro Family and the Duke Grimsbein Family had established positions to defend them. I also learned that to reach the Shatun Desert, one had to pass through Owen’s lands if they followed the outer edges of the mountain range.
I realized that the first and second classes of World Geography would be dedicated to learning about the Yuil Mountains because it was so important.
I was greatly pleased, as this was something I had earnestly desired.
After that, we were to learn about the geographical features and specialties of the Sierran Empire, the Five Kingdoms, and the Shatun Desert.
I struggled to control my expression, as it felt impolite to look distressed.
Immediately following that, I attended the Emergency Treatment class with Marianne, taught by Professor Ray Gibson.
Following the incident with Damian last year, many children felt a sense of guilt. Marianne, in particular, felt very sorry that she hadn’t been able to immediately create a Magic Formula to disinfect or treat the wounds. I welcomed her idea that learning practical medical methods would be helpful, as magical abilities don’t improve overnight.
However, when the class began, Marianne and I were both taken aback.
“Those of you who have come to my class! You already have the basic posture! All accidents happen when you are careless! The most important thing to react quickly, accurately, and wisely is a posture of vigilance!”
I should have sat further back.
Ray Gibson was a man with a voice so loud it made my ears ring. I was confused as to whether I was attending an emergency treatment class or a vocal performance class.
The man, a man in his late thirties with hair cut so short it looked bristly, had skin so deeply tanned by the sun it was red.
The taut clothing beneath his thick neck felt constricting.
If he had built up so much muscle, he should have worn looser, more modest clothing; why was it so tight that it left no room for movement?
As I sat there speechless, Marianne whispered in my ear.
“I think we’ve come to the wrong classroom. Should we leave?”
“…No, well.”
Rarely, words failed to come out of my mouth.
Since the physicians in the Central Plains were all slender and delicate in appearance, I had unconsciously assumed that all those who practiced medicine would be the same.
No, but even the physicians of the Ernhardt family, both male and female, were lithe and slender.
I stared blankly at the man whose chest was as broad as a bear’s and whose waist was as thick as a mature tree.
The man laughed heartily and picked up a textbook, shaking it beside his head. What looked like a book in my hands appeared like a small slice of bread in his.
The man announced in his booming voice that he would teach us how to respond to various emergency situations throughout the semester.
What I needed most urgently was the safety of my ears; what kind of response could possibly help with that?
I could have used an Aura Barrier to block the sound, but I had to attend at least part of the class, so I couldn’t.
He somehow reminded me of Peng family and Bill.
This year was clearly going to be unlucky. I wondered if the Sierran Empire had a culture of performing shamanistic rituals or prayers. I felt like I needed to recite a Buddhist scripture to ward off this bad luck.