Chapter 9: First Class (1)

After my “memorable” reunion with Jules, I spent the rest of my suspension period quietly focusing on strengthening myself.

As soon as I woke up in the morning, I grabbed the sword at my bedside and slit my throat. A searing pain spread through my chest as the Primordial Flame burned me from within, and I immediately began meditating.

Technically, I didn’t need to meditate since my mana would naturally increase on its own, but focusing my mind in this state allowed me to accumulate far more mana than I would have usually.

This pain lasted for about five minutes. That was the only window in which I could harness the power of the Primordial Flame and store extra mana.

I took slow, deep breaths, concentrating on the image in my mind. A colossal flame appeared, stretching beyond the limits of my imagination, a raging inferno, threatening to engulf the world itself. I carefully took a step forward, staring into the boundless fire. Compared to this vast sea of flames, I was nothing but a speck of ash.

I reached out toward the fire. Come to me. Come burn my flesh and scorch my soul.

I grasped at the blazing inferno with my bare hands. Agonizing pain tore through my body, violently ripping me apart from the inside. For anyone else, the mere sensation of this would have been unbearable, and they would’ve foamed at the mouth and lost consciousness instantly.

However, I could endure it. No, I would endure it. Pain was familiar to me—an old friend. This was nothing. Compared to the countless deaths I had already experienced, this agony was but a fleeting inconvenience.

I willed the fire to respond. Move.

The massive flames remained indifferent, as if I were a bothersome insect buzzing at them. All I managed to take from them was a single flicker of fire, no bigger than a candle’s flame. It was resting on my palm. I carefully moved my arm, ensuring the small flame wouldn’t extinguish.

So, this is all I could bring back this time.

Considering the excruciating pain I had just endured, it was frustratingly little. But for now, even this was a blessing. I slowly guided the flickering flame toward my left chest.

Then, I let out a long breath and opened my eyes. The burning sensation, as if a scorching brand had pressed against my chest, vanished. “Oh, I gathered quite a bit more this time.”

By visualizing my mindscape and solidifying the image of bringing back fire, I could amass far more mana than I could by simply enduring the pain for five minutes. This was similar to breathing techniques.

I once heard Yuren say that even with the same breathing technique, the amount of mana one accumulated depended on how well they visualized their mindscape. Back then, no matter what I did, my mana wouldn’t increase, so I hadn’t paid much attention to his words.

“So, this is what he meant.” Realizing that the results of my training depended on the effort I put in and my skills made me more motivated than ever.

Though, I can only do this four times a day at most. I let out a wry chuckle and sheathed the sword I had just used to slit my throat. A pile of fine, gray ash was scattered across my bedsheet, the by-product of my resurrection.

“Cleaning this up every time is such a pain,” I said with a sigh.

Since my body regenerated along with the blood I lost, I didn’t have to worry about washing my bedsheets. But the ash that replaced my spilled blood was just as troublesome to deal with.

Decapitating myself with a single, clean stroke was simple and relatively painless. But still, the sight of my severed head rolling off my neck, along with the brief fountain of blood, was a bit too dramatic, even if it all disappeared instantly after.

I need to find a better way to do this. I should come up with a cleaner, more efficient way to kill myself.

For now, though, I didn’t have time to ponder new suicide methods. “Time to wash up.”

It was Monday, the start of a new week, and today would be my first proper class since returning to the past.

***

As I made my way to the Practical Combat Training lecture hall to attend the class, the hallways were already packed with cadets heading to their morning lectures. I could hear them whispering about me from every direction. Apparently, my little incidents from last week had turned into quite the hot topic. Everywhere I went, I was the center of attention.

“Hey, that’s Dale.”

“Wait, that guy? The one from the rumors?”

“I heard he even beat up Jules recently.”

“Wasn’t he ranked dead last in the overall rankings?”

“Exactly! That’s why people are freaking out. They say he was hiding his strength all along.”

“Pfft! What, does he think he’s some kind of protagonist?”

This much buzz wasn’t what I wanted. I don’t want to stand out too much, I thought.

Yet, I understood. If I had heard that the worst cadet in the academy’s history had changed overnight and suddenly started beating people up left and right, I’d be curious too.

Still, that didn’t mean I was going to cower and hide my strength. In the past—no, from this timeline’s perspective, it would be the future—I had always been the one struggling to catch up. Now, if I wanted to take the hands of those who had once been ahead of me and pull them forward, then I couldn’t stay as the bottom-ranker forever.

Ignoring the murmurs around me, I pushed open the door of the lecture hall. An awkward silence fell over the room as every pair of eyes turned toward me. I let out a deep sigh. This awkward atmosphere was probably going to persist for a while.

Where’s Iris? My gaze naturally shifted toward the far end by the window. There she was, watching me with sparkling eyes, as if finding the situation amusing. Next to her sat Camilla, glaring at me with a murderous intent that made it clear she wanted nothing more than to kill me on the spot.

I should apologize to Camilla at some point, I thought. However, judging by her current expression, I could tell that approaching her now wouldn’t lead to an apology; it would just cause another uproar.

Ignoring their stares, I quietly took my seat. The heavy silence in the lecture hall began to lift, replaced by murmurs. I listened in, and as expected, most of the whispers were about me.

“Alright, rookies. Enough chatter. Everyone, take your seats.” Professor Kane entered the lecture hall, his commanding voice silencing the buzz of conversation. He scanned the room before his sharp gaze landed on me. “If I catch you dozing off in my class again, you’ll be the one flying next time. Got it?”

“I will keep that in mind.” I nodded respectfully.

Satisfied, Professor Kane gave a curt nod in return. “Good.”

With the rumors circulating about how he had been sent flying by a cadet’s accidental punch, he had probably been the subject of endless gossip among the faculty. Despite that embarrassment, he had let the incident go with just a warning. He was truly broad-minded to have overlooked it with just a simple apology.

I recalled something from my past life and smiled slightly. Professor Kane was the reason I managed to graduate, even as the lowest-ranked cadet.

“Alright, before we begin, let’s take attendance.” Professor Kane started calling names as he wandered around the lecture hall.

I wondered why he bothered walking around while taking roll calls, but my name came up soon.

“Dale Han.”

“Here,” I replied.

As he passed by my seat, he discreetly slipped me a small, folded note.

What’s this? Curious, I opened it.

Remember! The only reason you got me last time was because I let my guard down! If I had taken you seriously, a rookie like you wouldn’t have stood a chance!

I glanced up at him, dumbfounded. I take back what I said earlier—he definitely holds grudges. Seriously? How petty can this man be?

Professor Kane awkwardly cleared his throat and deliberately avoided my gaze.

Well, at least he has the decency to be embarrassed. What an amusing guy. I smirked and tucked the note into my chest pocket.

“Alright. Everyone’s here.” With roll call finished, Professor Kane stepped up to the podium, scanning the cadets. “What’s the name of this class?”

“It’s Practical Combat Training,” said a cadet.

“Exactly.” He nodded in approval. “The purpose of this course is to gain the experience and knowledge necessary for real combat against demons and demonic monsters.”

He turned his attention to one of the cadets and called out, “Albert.”

“Y-yes, sir!” Albert shot up from his seat, his hands clenched into fists.

“What do you think is the most important thing in preparing for battle?” asked Professor Kane.

Albert hesitated for a moment before answering, “I believe… it’s the courage to face the enemy without fear.”

Professor Kane scoffed. “Courage is what you use when you are eating spicy food.”

“Huh?” Albert didn’t know what to say.

“Haha! What do you think? I heard that joke from Bianca the other day. Pretty funny, right?”

“Oh, uh… yes.” Albert sat down, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Still grinning, Professor Kane stepped off the podium and placed a hand the size of a pot lid on Albert’s shoulder. “Laugh.”

“Excuse me?” Albert replied.

“I said, laugh.”

“Hahaha! Using ‘courage’ as a metaphor for a lunchbox, what a clever joke! Bianca sure has great comedic sense! Ahaha! Wow, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts!” Albert clutched his stomach, trembling—whether from nervousness or actual laughter, I couldn’t tell.

“There you go. That’s the spirit.” Professor Kane nodded, pleased.

“Well, back to the main topic.” Professor Kane returned to the podium, his expression turning serious. “In real combat, the most important thing isn’t meaningless bravery or courage. It’s experience.”

Even cadets who initially trembled at the mere sight of a demonic monster would grow accustomed to battle after cutting down a few.

“And experience is something you can’t gain in a confined lecture hall.” He tapped the podium before pointing out the window. “Everyone, outside. Today’s class will be held outdoors.”

A chorus of groans spread through the room.

“Oh, and for today’s class, you’ll be forming groups of three. You are free to find your teammates. I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”

The classroom immediately buzzed with activity. Some cadets exchanged knowing smiles, already confident in their groups. Others wore anxious expressions, nervously scanning the room for potential teammates.

A group assignment, huh? I let out a quiet sigh. After graduation, heroes typically worked in parties, so giving cadets experience in forming and working within teams was certainly a good idea. In my past life, I was always the last one left, forced to join a random group of strangers.

The atmosphere of such a forcefully made party was indescribably worse and was always a mess.

This time… I scanned the room, just in case. “Ugh.”

As expected, given all the rumors surrounding me, nobody wanted to team up with me. It looked like I’d be left out until the very end again, forced to pair up with whoever else was unlucky enough to be left behind.

Just as I let out a deep sigh, resigning myself to my fate, a familiar voice called from behind.

“Dale.”

I turned around, and standing there with a gentle smile was none other than the Saintess herself.

“Would you like to team up with us?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep