The man was like a quiet lake cloaked in a rising dawn mist.
He was cold, chilly, and impossibly calm. Just as the surface of a deep pond remains unshaken by a breeze, every action he took was restrained, measured, and laden with intent.
Even the way he closed the classroom door—not a single click of wood on wood. Even the way his boots met the podium—not a single echo of leather on stone. Even the way he placed his documents on the mahogany desk—not a single rustle of parchment.
The stillness engulfed the lecture hall like a ripple across water.
"Oh..."
The noisy aristocratic students, who had been sneering just moments before, found their voices dying in their throats. They were swept away by the sheer weight of the atmosphere. The rowdier ones looked on with curiosity, while the more perceptive students stared at the man on the podium with wide, shining eyes.
He stood tall, his suit tailored to a handomely sharp figure without a single wrinkle. A black frock coat draped over his shoulders, adding a layer of sophisticated gravity.
With a movement so natural it seemed rehearsed, the man took off his silk hat and flicked his wrist. The hat soared through the air in a perfect arc, settling safely onto the hanger in the corner of the podium.
Finally, his face was revealed.
He had a jawline like carved granite and a straight, noble nose bridge. His eyes were the most striking feature—sharp, unwavering, and possessed of a charisma that made it hard to believe he was a "new" teacher. His hair, long for a man of the Empire, was tied neatly at the nape of his neck.
Gulp.
Several nobles who had been gossiping about "fallen aristocrats" swallowed hard, their bravado crushed under the man's silent vigor.
"Nice to meet you," he said, his voice a deep, resonant baritone that cut through the silence like a warm knife through wax. "My name is Ludger Chelysie, and I am the new Senior Professor at Sorenth Academy."
The moment he spoke, the spell was broken, and the reality of the classroom returned—but the tension remained.
"I will not begin the lecture today, as it is the first day of the semester," I said, slowly removing my frock coat and hanging it beside my hat.
Internally, I was reciting a script. I am an actor on a stage, I reminded myself. These students are the audience. All I have to do is follow the flow and continue the monologue.
"My subject is Applied Magic Casting. I will not teach you the principles in an unsophisticated manner. My focus is on the application of magic in real-life scenarios—practice over theory, survival over tradition."
I scanned the room. I saw shoulders flinch. Good.
"And a prior notice," I continued. "This class is not restricted to sophomores. I have opened it as a joint lecture for both first and second-year students."
The room erupted into a low buzz. Sophomores at Sorenth were famously protective of their seniority. Taking a class with "freshmen" was often seen as an insult to their progress.
"Stop."
I didn't raise my voice, but the noise vanished instantly.
"I understand the complaint. You feel that having first-years in the room will slow the pace. Let me be clear: I will not be adjusting my curriculum for beginners. If the first-years cannot keep up, they will fail. If you, the second-years, are surpassed by them... then you simply weren't as talented as you thought."
It was a classic smokescreen. By bringing in freshmen, I was forcing the sophomores to focus their competitive energy on their juniors rather than on scrutinizing me.
"Why allow freshmen at all?"
I looked toward the source of the voice. A girl with long, wavy blonde hair and a gaze full of righteous fire had her hand raised. She looked familiar—like someone I should be wary of, though I couldn't place her yet.
"Because I believe in opportunity," I replied. "It is a teacher's duty to provide equal instruction to those capable of receiving it. If a first-year has the spark to understand my methods, it is a tragedy to make them wait a year."
"That doesn't explain what the class actually is," she countered, her brow furrowing.
"If you are curious, attend the first lecture," I said, a faint, challenging smirk playing on my lips. "It is no fun to reveal the ending of a play before the curtains rise."
I saw her frustration grow. Impatience was a wonderful tool for control.
"One final warning," I said, my tone hardening. "If anyone is here under the delusion that I am a 'new' teacher who will give easy credits for the sake of popularity..."
I paused, letting the silence hang heavy.
"I will personally engrave the meaning of 'real education' into your bones. If you are looking for a comfortable semester, do not come back. That is all. Any questions?"
The classroom was a tomb.
No one raised a hand. The students were busy rolling their eyes, looking for someone else to take the lead. They weren't just being polite; they were overwhelmed.
Is that really a soldier? The rumors said he was a military officer... his aura is terrifying. I heard he's at least a Fourth Rank... maybe higher.
The aristocratic students, who usually treated professors like high-end servants, stared at their desks, avoiding my gaze.
"No questions? Then the orientation is concluded."
I watched them file out. I had expected a barrage of inquiries—questions about my background, my age, my past. Instead, they were fleeing.
'Is this what they call "being eaten"?' I wondered. On Earth, students would sometimes bully a new teacher into submission by ignoring them. I had tried to look scary to keep my secret, but had I overshot the mark? Did they already hate me?
'Scary kids these days,' I thought, adjusting my collar.
I put on my hat, grabbed my coat, and left the hall at a leisurely pace. As I walked down the corridor, I noticed something strange. Students from other classes would see me coming and immediately flatten themselves against the walls or duck into doorways.
'Am I that terrifying?' I mused. 'I hope I haven't ruined my "favor-gaining" mission for the society already.'
"Hello!"
I stopped. A woman stood in the hallway, smiling brightly. She had pink, slightly curled hair and an aura that felt like warm sunshine—a stark contrast to the cold gloom I was projecting. She wasn't in uniform.
"You're the new professor, Ludger Chelysie, right?"
"I am."
"Oh, as expected! I'm Selena. I'm a fellow teacher here—I handle Magical Botany and Ecology. I'm your new colleague!"
"A pleasure," I said, maintaining my mask of stone.
Selena fidgeted, looking around a bit awkwardly. "Well... since it's the first day and all... have you eaten yet? I was wondering if you'd like to join some of us for lunch?"
I stared at her. Was this a genuine gesture, or was one of my "First Order" colleagues testing me?