Chapter 6
Not all instructors are the same
At the academy, people described me in one of two ways:
“War hero Instructor Deus” or “Commoner Instructor Deus.”
Now, for the latter, a new modifier had been added: “the insolent, shameless commoner instructor.” This, naturally, was because I had flatly rejected a proposal from the Seventh Princess.
I hadn’t even gone to apologize in person, bowing on my knees or anything like that. The request had come through the principal. No doubt, in the eyes of the noble families, steam must have been coming out of their ears.
But I didn’t care. People who fuss over social status would continue to do so, no matter what.
No matter how well I behaved, they would only ever think, “Finally, the lowly commoner has abandoned hope of being human and is now a loyal dog, wagging its tail.”
So, the real focus of my “public approval management” lay with the first group.
Yet, after recent events, neither group could see me in a favorable light.
“An instructor who weeds out nobles and commoners alike if they fail to meet his standards… really…”
Noble students grumbled because of Erich, and commoner students whispered because of Uriel.
It was overwhelming. And unfair.
I had only acted as requested initially, and later tried to guide students so they might truly learn something. I had taken great care with Uriel, aiming to teach her what she needed to know, yet this was the result.
Even Principal Vincent seemed to notice. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding anymore.
If I lingered too long, the label of “arrogant commoner instructor” would stick permanently.
“It’s best to clear up misunderstandings quickly.”
Waiting to see how things would unfold would only make the situation worse. It was better to act now, covering unnecessary chatter with other words.
Fortunately, I knew exactly where those I needed to clear the misunderstanding with were. I had memorized it anyway for in-game character events.
Erich would be attending a literature lecture by now, and Uriel, most likely, would be in a corner of the training grounds, practicing sword alone.
But today, things weren’t as usual.
“Annoying girl!”
“When will this release measure finally happen?!”
Uriel cornered, surrounded by other girls, and the others were hurling their anger at her.
Curious, I decided to hide for a moment. Perhaps years in the military had ingrained stealth and concealment into my very bones.
“You made Erich’s situation even worse! What do you plan to do about this?!”
“That’s not my—”
“Don’t talk back. Just listen.”
Why Erich came up, I had no idea. He had challenged me to spar entirely of his own will and, as expected, lost decisively. He had thanked me sincerely, calling it a great experience. But apparently, noble students had not been so kind in their judgment.
“Do you even know where the House of Lanstat is? One of the Six Imperial Duchies! The scion of such a house got humiliated by a mere commoner instructor and rushed up just because that instructor called?”
I shook my head. These girls were spinning the narrative as if Uriel had sought out sparring to humiliate Erich on purpose.
“Did you enjoy it? Did a commoner instructor giving you praise make your miserable academy life a bit easier? This is why fallen noble houses are worse than commoners!”
“……”
“What will you do if I glare at you?”
Uriel’s head whipped to the side with a sharp snap!
Officially, student violence was prohibited. But my frustration wasn’t with the rules. Uriel—the one often overlooked—was being treated like this in reality. My patience snapped.
“What are you doing?”
“…Ah.”
The girls froze at my voice. Initially tense, thinking they’d get punished, they relaxed slightly when they realized who it was.
“We… we were just warning Uriel for her rudeness.”
I could have snapped back, criticizing their ridiculous claims, but restraint was better. They were already set on a narrative: the “commoners” line.
“I’ve been listening to your story. So far, all I’ve heard relates to Erich. Nothing else.”
The realization hit them. They hadn’t noticed my presence at all—a common error when facing someone trained in stealth over years of battlefield experience.
“So… what you’re saying is, a student inflicted violence on another student?”
Exactly. That was the crux. I pondered how to deal with these arrogant little brats.
“Instructor Deus.”
One particularly unpleasant-looking girl stepped forward.
“This isn’t one-sided violence.”
“Have the definitions of ‘one-sided’ and ‘violence’ changed?”
“Erich lost to you. Right after, Uriel came up to spar, and she held her own for quite some time.”
“So?”
“We… we suspect something. Erich is outstanding, Uriel below us, yet the spar reversed expectations. Could she have done something suspicious for her own sake?”
They were implying Uriel had staged things for my attention.
“…Initially, I intended a simple verbal warning. But this escalates—unilateral violence and disrespect towards an instructor. This cannot be ignored.”
I had the authority to issue demerits as an instructor. Rarely done, especially by a commoner against nobles. It would sting their pride deeply.
“A commoner…!”
Exactly as I anticipated, they dug their own grave.
“So you suspect bribery, and now openly call me a commoner in front of me… implying I awarded undeserved recognition? Fine. Consider this your demerit.”
Silence. Faces blanch. Their heads lowered immediately.
“Receive it.”
I handed Uriel back her sword. She took it carefully.
“Thank you…”
“How’s the spot you were hit?”
“It’s fine. Not too strong…”
She hesitated, then finally asked:
“Why… did you help me?”
“Why help you?”
“I thought you were punishing me, giving me this as a lesson.”
Not at all.
“Forget the rudeness from earlier. Wipe from your mind any worry or curiosity about how I see you. Focus only on the clash before your eyes.”
Uriel raised her wooden practice sword and engaged me once more. Minutes passed, and she was swiftly overwhelmed again.
“Once more.”
Her pride sank to the depths. She bit her lip, struggling to understand the difference from before. Then my words echoed in her mind:
“Forget the rudeness. Forget the worry or curiosity about how I see you. Focus only on the clash before your eyes.”
She exhaled, steadied herself, and gripped her sword.
Gradually, she noticed something: my movements mirrored her own in subtle ways. Each step, each position, corrected her flaws. My blows were not mockery—they were guidance.
“This is… exactly what I needed.”
Every strike, every counter, was a lesson in where she was lacking and where her path lay.
Her initial doubt and fear melted. In their place, a sense of clarity and exhilaration.
“He’s different… Instructor Deus is different… maybe, maybe…!”
Uriel’s eyes shone with joy and awe, fully understanding, for the first time, the meaning behind my words.
