...
The outcome was brutally humiliating. Before the eyes of over a hundred children, the female teacher could not even manage to lift the fool's arm a fraction. A flush of embarrassment crept up Quelin's cheeks.
"Ahem. Well now! Quite the lad—you've got strength to rival my own little one."
Clearing her throat in a poor attempt to disguise her discomfort, Quelin straightened up before the podium. Yet the scene had not gone unnoticed; the once silent classroom now buzzed with stifled laughter.
"You there! You're my assistant, aren't you? Then start by handing out these handouts to every student. Go on!"
The fool nodded, extending his arms slowly to receive the stack, then began distributing them row by row.
"Hehehe… How fascinating. Human child, what are your thoughts on what just occurred?"
As he moved among the desks, the voice of Dark Extinction once again echoed in his mind.
Expressionless, the fool climbed the steps, his tone subdued yet devoid of any excitement or agitation. "I have no thoughts."
"No thoughts—? None at all?! Hey, hey! Look at yourself—you're walking around with these chains that even grown men couldn't budge! Don't you understand what that means?"
Drawing a paper from the pile, the fool placed it gently on a timid girl's desk. "It means that woman is acting."
"Acting…?"
"Yes," he said coolly. "If these cuffs and chains can be lifted by any student, how could an adult possibly fail? She's feigning weakness. Deliberately pretending she can't lift them."
"Hey now, what benefit could that bring her? Don't forget, she did this in front of all those children—it's a blatant display of weakness! For an adult, that's embarrassing. A blow to her dignity!"
"Dignity?" The fool's gaze briefly flicked to the cursed sword on his arm. "What's the use of that?"
"You—!"
"Weakness," he continued, "is a better shield. Losing face invites others to lower their guard. I don't know why she's doing this, but she must have a reason. Perhaps she's planning an assassination. By appearing weak in front of the children, she ensures word spreads: 'I'm harmless. I couldn't possibly pose a threat.'"
Was it an illusion? For a moment, a strange look flickered across Dark Extinction's eyes—an expression of utter defeat. Narrowing his gaze, the demon blade stole a glance toward the woman now yawning and wiping the blackboard, and let out a deep sigh.
"Fine, fine, I yield. You win. Yes, you're weak—but you see through facades, and that should delight me, shouldn't it? I've found a host who's cautious to the bone. I should be pleased, right? Hahaha… HAHAHAHAHA!"
Then, silence. The sword closed its eyes and fell completely still.
Having handed out the last of the papers, the fool returned to the front of the room. Quelin glanced at him, rubbing her drowsy eyes. Whether she had truly forgotten the earlier incident or was still putting on a show, it was impossible to say. Either way, she raised the paper in her hand and said, listlessly—
"All right, dear new students. I know you are the crème de la crème of noble society—intelligent, wealthy, and destined for greatness. (muttering) Hmph. Unlike poor working students like myself who have to juggle part-time jobs just to scrape by. (aloud again) So, to evaluate the extent of your prior education, we'll begin with a test. This paper includes questions on language, mathematics, logical reasoning, and more. Choose whichever ones you can handle. Begin."
At her command, a collective groan swept the classroom. Clearly, none of the children had expected to be tested on their first day. With disgruntled faces, they pulled out their pens and got to work.
Having issued her instructions, Quelin flopped down onto the platform without a care for decorum. She yawned and pulled out pen and paper—not to monitor the test, but to balance her personal finances.
"Hmm… Three Suras on groceries… Roof repairs cost five Suras and two Inairs… Paid fifty Suras in property tax yesterday… Lent seventeen Inairs to Brandon… Ugh! School's barely begun, and I'm already broke?! I couldn't work over the summer and missed out on free school meals… What am I going to do now?"
Finishing her calculations, she looked up with a sigh—only to find someone staring at her. Turning her head, she met the fool's emotionless gaze.
"Huh? Why are you still here? Oh, right—you're my assistant." She yawned again, then pulled a test paper from the pile beneath her. "Even if you're my assistant, I still need to assess your abilities. Come on, don't just stare. Go take the test. Don't bother me."
The fool accepted the paper, but it was all meaningless to him. He couldn't read a single word. He couldn't even tell which side was up. After scanning the incomprehensible sheet, he looked up again, eyes fixed on the weary teacher.
The intensity of his stare unsettled Quelin. She jumped to her feet, her expression tinged with irritation. "Why aren't you taking the test?"
"I can't read," he said slowly.
"You can't read?" Quelin blinked. "Then how did you end up as my assistant?"
"Campa sent me. He said… you could teach me."
At that, Quelin couldn't help but laugh. Slapping the podium, she shook her head.
"Teach you? So that's why the principal suddenly offered to raise my salary. Dumped another burden on me, huh? Look… I may be in the literature department, but I never signed up to be a teacher! It's all because of my family background that people avoid me—and those little brats even call me the 'Ghost Queen.' Fine, fine. For the sake of the Suras, I'll teach you. What a pain."
Still shaking her head, she turned around and began writing on the blackboard. But it was clear she was simply going through the motions—paying no mind to whether the fool could follow along. This teacher truly lacked motivation.
"Wuu… Wuu…"
Just then, a soft whimper. A small bun-like baby peeked her head out of the cloth bag and began patting the fool's chest with tiny hands.
"Hmm? This is how we use verbs. Now let's move on to academic writing—Huh? What's wrong?"
Looking down, Quelin saw the child carefully cradling an infant in his arms. He took a bottle from his waist, gave it a shake, and gently offered it to the baby girl. For a moment, the cold, stoic mask on his face seemed to thaw slightly.
Quelin quietly lowered her chalk, crouching down in front of him.
"Aww… so you're carrying a child? She's adorable—how did I not notice her earlier?"
It was simple. The woman's mind had been preoccupied with money and hassle; she hadn't paid attention.
Even as the chains pulled tight around his limbs, the fool held the baby with tender care. Watching her suckle from the bottle, Quelin seemed almost entranced. Her bitter smile softened into something far gentler.
"How precious… Is she your sister?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Your niece?"
"No."
"Then… your cousin? Haha."
"No."
"Whoa, if she's not this and not that, then who is she? Don't tell me… your daughter?"
Quelin laughed, but the jest faded as she watched the boy's soft expression while holding the baby. Her smile grew warmer.
"All right. Let's begin again. I will truly teach you how to read and write. 'Little Daddy,' you should count yourself lucky—because you are the first real student I've ever had."
What had prompted this change in her? The fool didn't know. But as he looked up, he saw Quelin raising her chalk once more, ready to write—
"What the hell?! What are these questions?! I'm not answering any of this!"
A student with flowing hair suddenly stood, tearing his test in half. Pointing at Quelin, he shouted, "Quelin Runida! I refuse to recognize you as our teacher! What kind of teacher yawns through class?! We paid tuition to be taught like elites—not to watch you doze off!"
And just like that, the room erupted. The noble children—spoiled and pampered—weren't used to being ordered around, much less tested. One by one, they rose, ripping their test papers to shreds.
"We won't attend your class! We demand a new teacher!"
"That's right! Replace her! And really—how does a fallen noble house like Runida have any right to teach us? I'm the heir of a Marquis! Even at its peak, the Runida family was only ever a Count!"
(Noble ranks in the Stag Empire: Duke, Marquis, Count, Viscount, Baron)