By Zephyria I felt a knot of tension, wondering what kind of exam Professor Cedric, who taught the Hunting and Camping Class with Alchemy, would devise and how he would administer it.
I had learned so much in his class.
However, he had a habit of imparting all that knowledge casually, as if in passing, saying things like, “Do it this way when you build a fire,” or “Be careful of this when picking certain herbs,” only when necessary. I hadn’t taken any notes to organize what I’d learned.
Professor Cedric gathered the students in the classroom and, with his usual cheerful demeanor, rested his elbows on the lectern, propping his chin in his hands in a peculiar pose, and spoke with delight.
“Alright, the midterm exam for our Hunting and Camping Class with Alchemy! It will be replaced by an assignment!”
An assignment meant no rote memorization, so it was better than an exam. I felt a small sense of relief.
Now, however, I was curious about the assignment’s topic, and the children remained silent, neither cheering nor groaning.
Perhaps displeased with the reaction, the professor straightened up with a sigh and rapidly wrote on the blackboard. I read the words with my eyes.
—The events and feelings from the first camping trip and the first experiment.
“Honestly, we didn’t spend a night outdoors, nor did we encounter any monsters or wild animals, so I’m sure some of you little ones don’t consider that day’s lesson as camping. However, there must have been friends among us who lit a campfire outdoors for the very first time.”
Students here and there nodded in agreement or replied with quiet “Yes.”
“If doubt is the most important thing in Alchemy, then record-keeping is the most important thing in adventure. The habit of consistently recording what happened, how you resolved it, and what your impressions were is paramount.”
Cedric drew large circles around “events” and “feelings” among the words he had written on the blackboard.
“All those records, detailing what you focused on during the activity and where you fell short, become part of the wisdom for our descendants to navigate the world. So, therefore! I expect you to write it diligently, with blood and sweat. There will be no class next week, and the assignment is due at this time the week after next.”
His words, which seemed so playful and cheerful, were more profound than I had expected, and I was quite impressed.
Suddenly, I realized I had never paid much attention to record-keeping when I wandered the Central Plains.
As Namgung Jeong-yeon, whenever I wanted to know who the villains were and what was happening in the land, I would go to an inn, have a cup of Bamboo Leaf Wine, and eavesdrop on the chatter of the common folk.
People from all over the world gathered by word of mouth and departed by word of mouth.
But nowadays, if I want to know something, I head to the library. …It was a good thing.
I remained completely at ease until Professor Cedric’s next words.
“The length should be at least 50 pages. The more detailed you write, the better the score. You can discuss it with your teammates, but your feelings must be distinct. Submitting identical assignments would be boring. Oh, and if your handwriting is larger than the line spacing, it’s an automatic fail. I’m warning you now?”
It was madness.
Professor Cedric handed out notebooks to the students, saying that binding the papers would be a chore, so once they had a rough outline, they should transfer it to the notebooks he was distributing.
When I opened it, the lines were densely packed, and the page numbers were marked in the bottom right corner of every even page.
Filling 50 pages seemed daunting, let alone creating an outline for the report. I was dumbfounded, wondering if this was even a feasible assignment for two weeks.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one thinking this way, as many students groaned and grumbled, burying their heads on their desks. Professor Cedric laughed heartily, said “Good luck,” and left the classroom with a bright smile.
Immediately, the children from the same team looked at each other and began to complain.
“So, how do we even tackle this assignment first?”
“Wow, he’s lost his mind. 50 pages? If they limit the font size like this, how are we supposed to study for other exams…”
“Does that professor think we only take this class…”
Demian, whose gray hair gave him a rather indistinct impression, tried to calm the bustling atmosphere, acting like the team leader he was.
He sighed heavily and took out his academy planner, flipping to the front page with the calendar.
Having glimpsed the colorful, densely packed exam schedules for other law courses in Demian’s planner, I inwardly felt fortunate to be in the Swordsmanship Department.
“…First, let’s try to coordinate our camping and experiment schedules, fitting them into our available free time. If we have a basic framework, it will be easier to fill in the feelings in between.”
“Right. Let’s write down who did what, and then organize our individual feelings about it in order. If it’s still not enough, we can just write that it was fun, enjoyable, or delightful.”
“Does everyone still have the Alchemy experiment procedure handout we received before? When should we meet?”
“Like when we hung out last time, don’t we all have time on Friday afternoons? It would be more convenient for everyone to meet while it’s still light out than to work on the assignment at night. We don’t know how long it will take, either.”
Everyone spoke so readily, but I had nothing to say, despite having a mouth.
I just sat there, feeling overwhelmed, like a mute among the debating children, when Marianne nudged my arm.
“Mikael, I have sparring on Saturday. Is it okay to do the assignment on Friday?”
“…I think this assignment might be a bit harder than sparring, so let’s get this out of the way first.”
“That’s a good idea. Then, let’s all meet this Friday. Before then, if possible, everyone should try to remember and jot down what they did and in what order.”
“Sounds good.”
“Let’s do that.”
We quickly reached an agreement and dispersed. After dinner, I recalled the events of the camping trip and made notes, then changed into my training uniform and headed to the martial arts training ground.
I tried to calm my mind and body by swinging my sword late into the night. I finally understood why the seniors looked so gaunt and unsteady during exam periods.
The new realization brought me no joy.
❖ ❖ ❖
In the advanced Swordsmanship class, we sparred as usual.
Since we had been striving to awaken our auras and glimpse the non-physical world in Mana and Aura classes, I thought there wouldn’t be a written exam for this class.
It was a mistake.
Professor Douglas Mustang, with his usual kind and gentle expression, handed out handouts to the exhausted students.
“You all know the exam is the week after next, right? The handout you’ve just received contains information on the similarities and differences between Mana and Aura, as well as the exam questions. The exam questions are on the fourth page, so please check them.”
“Ughhhhhh.”
“Your goal for this exam is to add your own views to the content at the beginning of the handout, pre-write your answers to each exam question, and then fully memorize that content to make it your own. Since I’ve given you the exam questions in advance, let’s not cheat. On the day of the exam, you absolutely cannot refer to the handout or any prepared materials. We will be strictly monitored.”
If I had died at forty-five and was now thirteen, living for nearly sixty years, this was an exam method I had never once imagined.
Was this how exams used to be? No, wasn’t the topic presented on the spot back then…
As I blinked, feeling lost in thought, a student among those groaning raised their hand and asked,
“How much length do you consider appropriate?”
“There are four questions in total… about ten lines per question should be sufficient to show you understand the concepts. Still, by pre-writing your answers and memorizing them, it will form the basic foundation of knowledge that you can use not only for the next three years but also after graduating from the academy, so I hope you study diligently.”
Douglas replied in his usual neat and gentle tone, smiling faintly.
“On the exam day, I’ve booked classroom number 5 on the first floor of the administration building. We will meet there at this time the week after next, not in this martial arts training ground.”
I slowly flipped through the handout I had received.
Indeed, the content Professor Douglas Mustang had mentioned multiple times before was neatly organized, using slightly more professional terminology and knowledge.
Well, it was still better than the World History elective class. The length was specified, and it wasn’t excessively long. Moreover, it was knowledge in an area I was interested in, so memorizing it wouldn’t hurt.
The only things that are bad to learn are theft and murder, and I already knew how to do those…
I tried hard to compose myself, but it wasn’t easy.
And so, it was Friday. The day before the eagerly awaited sparring match with the wizards, I gathered with my camping class companions in a small meeting room next to the library.
Marianne Philodendore from the Department of Magic, who always appeared cheerful and confident, had her short hair pulled up into a ponytail that resembled a broom. Ivan Holmes from the Business Department, who was usually calm, had dark circles under his eyes, as if he had been studying all night.
The only ones who looked somewhat presentable were Demian from the Law Department with his gray hair and Jenny from the Academic Department with her bold blue hair. I looked at them in surprise, wondering why they looked so well, when Jenny gave an embarrassed smile and let slip,
“Well, I’m generally good at memorization. I already heard from seniors how the Academic Department classes are conducted… so I did some pre-study.”
“The Law Department seems even more intense.”
“Ah. I’m the type who can’t study without sleep. I get a solid three hours of sleep every day.”
Demian’s reply left me speechless. To maintain a semblance of a human being while studying on just an hour and a half of sleep a day—the peace of the continent of Sierren must be protected by such people.
After a brief time spent asking about each other’s recent activities and well-being, we each took out blank papers.
It was because we all knew time was short.
“Where should we start? From when we arrived at the clearing behind the mountain?”
“The professor said all camping starts with preparation, so it’s best to write from when we started gathering supplies. What were the supplies each of us bought?”
“Supplies? We bought them after our first camping trip, didn’t we?”
“It’s best to use anything we can. We brought them on the next trip.”
“What we bought together on Friday was reusable firewood, insect repellent, and what else…”
“A thermal blanket?”
“We didn’t end up using that, did we? The weather was warmer than expected.”
“If you put it that way, did we even use the sleeping bags? Let’s just say bringing them was the point.”
“Let’s use the lamb Ivan brought too.”
“Ah, that was really delicious. Should we use what the professor gave us that day too?”
“Let’s write it down just in case, and whether you write it in the notebook later is up to you. The professor gave us a pot and a ladle… and told us to add whatever else we wanted, so I remember just throwing things in.”
“Among the reagent ingredients we picked in the forest, there were ones not on the list…”
Still, it was better with multiple minds.
If I had done it alone, I wouldn’t have remembered even half of half of this. So, I decided to quietly jot down what I could, occasionally interjecting with “Hmm. Yes, that’s right. Hmm.”
Frankly, I hadn’t lifted a finger for anything other than physical labor during this camping class, so the other children understood and sometimes corrected misspelled herb names in my notes.
By the time the sun began to set, the rough draft was complete, and we had a meal together before parting ways.