BIAC 10

Chapter 10

So far, what I—or rather, my past self—had received was nothing but mockery and disdain.

A war hero built on favor, or a commoner intoxicated by false amusements.

The reason I had spent the past month doing nothing of consequence was precisely that.

Better to stay quiet than move recklessly and hear more insults. If I were to be dismissed, so be it—just dismissed. That had been my mindset.

I understand. After all, I’d applied for discharge, but the War Academy insisted it was “inappropriate,” so they forcefully asked me to take the instructor position.

I complied, of course—but I doubt my past self had any real desire to work diligently. Could someone eager to leave the military really throw themselves into teaching?

But the future me would be different.

And the reaction of the nobles toward me would change as well.

Ludwig the instructor was arrogant and unpleasant, but undeniably skilled.

He had considerable battlefield achievements, and among noble students, he was respected.

You could tell by how most noble instructors clustered around him: his influence was clear.

And yet, I had pummeled him until his mind reeled.

Ah, of course, not out of fandom. I merely struck with my axe while wearing protective magic… Wait, isn’t that the same thing?

Still, since no one was hurt, perhaps “pummeled” isn’t quite accurate.

…Anyway. Since Ludwig was defeated, the nobles would have to reconsider.

Not just me as a manufactured war hero or a commoner drunk on false amusements, but the possibility that all of it could be genuine.

“If I tolerate being disregarded, that’s one thing. But I will never allow those I teach to be looked down upon.”

I couldn’t relieve the burdens of the students already suffering, but I certainly wouldn’t add more.

There were many under my charge besides Uriel, so I first needed to establish my own standing firmly.

“…Hmm.”

For the first time, the inner me was staring at the outer me properly.

The person in the mirror was a man with unfamiliar features.

A scar on his cheek, a gaze sharp enough to feel lethal—obviously a former soldier.

Muscular frame, tightly pressed lips. The scent of iron and blood seemed almost tangible.

And yet I still couldn’t comprehend why Ludwig had been so suspicious.

“Not too ugly or scary, fortunately.”

Good. If I had been monstrous-looking, it would have felt a little unjust.

As I stared at my reflection, the now-familiar spear came to mind.

[Character Info: Deus (? Rank)]

Traits: Lumberjack, Insight, Line-of-Fire Detection, Melee Expert, Prepared Instructor
Growth Potential: Exceptional as a Nanu

“Lumberjack” doesn’t mean he only chops trees—it’s the axe that defines the trait. That axe could cleave demons, or sometimes, very rarely, even humans.

“Let’s hope it’s never the latter.”

“Insight” had already begun to manifest during my duel with Ludwig, and earlier in sparring with two students.

The first encounter alone didn’t provoke a reaction—but the second time, everything became clear. I could see the opponent’s thoughts, their decisions, and the next movements. Anything experienced once was engraved into mind and body.

“Next is Line-of-Fire Detection…”

This trait supports the first, essential step of Insight: enduring the first clash. Once you survive that, the rest becomes possible.

For example, I instinctively noticed Ludwig’s first magical projectile and countered it just before it struck.

Ten years of battle, starting as a boy soldier against demons, had honed this instinct. Without it, survival would have been impossible, whether as a common soldier or officer.

“And the most notable… my potential as a Nanu.”

At first, I wondered how potential and Nanu could coexist. Now, standing where I am, with “Prepared Instructor” as a trait and my purpose in mind, I understood.

I was destined to become an instructor—whether I liked it or not.

For past me, wishing to be discharged, it would have been infuriating.

But for current me, with new dreams, it was a blessing.

“Thrown into possession of this body, at least I have something to work with.”

Seeing my traits and growth potential stirred ambition within me. I wanted to immediately nurture Uriel and the others I had already decided to invest in.

“…Of course, I mustn’t be reckless.”

This was no longer the game I knew.

It was a complex, incomprehensible world filled with people whose actions often defied logic.

I had already refused the princess’s proposal and endured something akin to ostracism.

And after defeating Ludwig, a rising noble-warrior, if I acted recklessly, it could truly be catastrophic.

Even if I excelled individually, facing the world alone was impossible. Allies were few, resources limited.

The fortunate part: the academy’s headmaster leaned slightly in my favor. Holding onto him provided some breathing room.

Yet this wasn’t permanent. If my usefulness waned, it would be a different story.

I had promised the headmaster to judge and guide students personally. But my goal was never to cull them; I intended to elevate them all as quickly as possible.

This wasn’t merely a matter of time. Resources were essential—ancient texts, experienced mentors, funding, or contingencies for unpredictable situations.

“Of course, money is needed. And lots of it.”

But I had none. Military life hadn’t left me wealthy. The instructor’s pay barely exceeded that of an average imperial worker.

Supporting students through stipends would fall far short of what was necessary.

“…Perhaps I should have accepted the princess’s request after all.”

But then, guiding Uriel and others might have been harder. My mind wrestled with options as I sighed in my chair.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

I rose.

“Who is it?”

No answer came, only the presence of my closest companion: my hand axe.

Even from a distance, I sensed something unusual: at least three individuals, perhaps more. Highly skilled, no doubt.

“This is no game. This is the real world.”

And one where class hierarchies were absolute, rigidly enforced by those who worshiped it as divine law.

I, a mere commoner, had refused the princess and smashed a noble war hero. Truly audacious.

A short sigh escaped me as I prepared to determine whether these newcomers would leave politely… or half-dead.

“…Wait.”

I realized there were a few presences I hadn’t noticed—likely ordinary guests overshadowed by the imposing ones.

I eased my grip on the axe, though it remained ready behind me.

“Who are you?”

I slid the door open. A deep, low voice answered.

“Open it.”

I remained silent, incredulous at the audacity.

The voice growled again:

“Open it. Next time, words will not suffice.”

My hand clenched the axe instinctively.

A woman stepped forward, pushing the man slightly aside.

“Allow me to apologize for his rudeness. It is entirely my fault.”

“…And you are?”

“Edelweiss Trichia.”

Trice—the imperial family.

No one would dare impersonate that name; death would be swift if discovered.

“We must enter and talk first. Agreed?”

The men and women entered, and the room quickly became crowded.

“You must be the famous Instructor Deus.”

“…Yes, that is I.”

“I heard from the headmaster that you refused my request to instruct me.”

“I must apologize. That is indeed true.”

“I thought you had reasons at first, so I did not persist. But then I heard… you defeated Ludwig.”

“It was a hard-fought victory.”

“Really? That differs from what I know.”

A nearby guard growled at the perceived falsehood. Noble-born, naturally. I smirked subtly, baiting him.

“I only considered it a true contest. Is it strange for a commoner to overpower a noble?”

He visibly bristled but restrained himself, unlike Ludwig.

“Hearing of this, my resolve wavered. Instructor Deus, I insist—you must teach me.”

“…I already made my refusal clear.”

“And yet, I persuaded you in person, and you yielded. Is that correct?”

I shrugged helplessly.

“I am simply a commoner. The princess is still a student here, and she will respect boundaries. Will you not reconsider my proposal?”

I did not hesitate.

“Frankly? No, I will not.”

The guard bristled again. It was impossible to accept—plain and simple.

“May I ask why?”

I turned to the obediently standing attendant beside her.

“Is that not correct, Your Highness?”