roccoschili Chapter 70: Batch-Earning Trust
Chapter 70: Batch-Earning Trust
Unlike the schedule Aiwas was familiar with, Royal Law University had no traditional “8 AM classes.”Theology classes started at 9 AM, with afternoon sessions at 3 PM.
Each morning or afternoon had just one class, but its end time wasn’t fixed.
Professors used a sandglass, lasting 40 minutes to an hour and a half, based on their lesson plan.
When the sand ran out, a crisp “ding” sounded.
After a short break for the bathroom or a snack, the professor flipped the sandglass for the second session.
Class ended after the second run.
This two-cycle sandglass tradition honored the Pillar God of Balance, Sandglass.
Sandglass guarded the concepts of “knowledge” and “science.”
The earliest “professional educators” and “researchers” in ancient civilizations were Sandglass’s apostles.
Though Aiwas left early, Lily pushed his wheelchair slowly.
They reached the school gate at 10 AM, and by the time Haina escorted him to the classroom, the class was nearly over.
This session used a medium sandglass, one hour per cycle.
This meant the history class, mostly reading from the textbook, required sitting in the classroom for two hours, not counting breaks.
Professor Bard’s class was only once a week.
But that one session was pure torture.
Normally, in the last ten minutes, students would get restless.
They’d pack up, sip water, chat, or plan where to hang out afterward.
For college students, it was too early to eat, but too tight for serious outings.
They’d usually play sports, cards, or chess, or do experiments, study, solve problems, or exercise.
Some went to the field to watch athletic students—handsome guys and girls from the “Individual Tactics” department practicing riding or swordsmanship.
By second year, theology students learned healing through physical contact via Illumination, making it a prime chance to find a partner.
For now, first-years could only watch seniors snatch up their peers’ best prospects, helpless.
Anything was better than dozing in class for two or three hours.
Thankfully, Professor Bard was lenient.
Whispering or napping was fine as long as it wasn’t too disruptive.
He just kept lecturing.
But today was different.
The sandglass was nearly empty, and students were indeed anxious.
Not to leave and play, but to hear Aiwas keep telling his story.
They feared once the sand ran out, Aiwas would “clock out” and stop.
[Who’s gonna finish the story for us?]
They could play any day, but a vivid historical tale like this was rare.
Even if Professor Bard lectured for three hours, the knowledge slipped through their minds like water.
But they swore they could retell Aiwas’s story at a bar, dance, or social event that night!
A mysterious, superhuman-filled, little-known, yet non-taboo historical tale—it could make them the star of any social scene for an hour!
Even students who rarely paid attention pulled out pens or pencils, taking serious notes.
*
“In the later stages of the Fractured War, the Moon Children were defeated.
Due to their immortality but inability to cross flowing water, they were sealed by Duke Narcissus in a prison dug behind a waterfall.
The first Duke Narcissus was the president of the Court Alchemy Association and vice-president of the Mage Association.
His ducal title was granted by the emperor in the empire’s final days, making him its last noble.
The Duchy of Narcissus followed both Balance and Wisdom paths.
Their capital was the former imperial capital.
It was the first nation on the continent—perhaps the world—fully governed by mages and alchemists.
This might be a key point, so underline it, everyone.”
Aiwas’s tone was calm, his voice clear, instantly likable.
Unlike some foreign professors with thick accents or odd grammar, he didn’t make students strain to understand.
Nor was he like Professor Bard, whose mumbled, monotone voice lulled listeners to sleep.
As a native of Glass Island, Aiwas’s Avalon tongue was impeccably standard.
Unlike some local professors with Elvish accents, which confused students unfamiliar with Elvish, like his father, James Moriarty.
“Unsealed Moon Children joined the former Imperial Art Association, forming the Iris Kingdom.
The Black Eagle Duke, who worshipped the Lord of Scales and Feathers and stayed neutral, emerged from the Fractured War unscathed.
With fertile lands, the Black Eagle Duchy took in many mercenaries, adventurers, and unemployed soldiers.
Combined with their numerous trained hunters, apothecaries, and assassins, they became the strongest military power after the empire’s collapse.”
Behind Aiwas, Lily’s eyes widened, staring in awe at her young master in the wheelchair.
Lily knew Aiwas read strange books at home, but as a dutiful maid, she never pried.
She had no idea he was so learned!
From the lectern, she gazed at the students watching quietly, her tea-colored eyes sparkling.
[Yes, this is it…]
[It’s perfect, just like the college classroom of my dreams!]
Aiwas smiled and continued, “You must be wondering… why was the Black Eagle Duchy, the only nation with an intact military, absorbed by the Star Antimony Kingdom?
It’s because Star Antimony inherited the empire’s greatest legacy—
Demon scholars, nearly wiped out by Moon Children predation, and necromancers, targeted early in the Fractured War as empire loyalists, had nowhere to go.
At that time, emerging alchemists from the ‘Twelve Keys,’ who amassed wealth and talent during the war, gathered them and founded the Star Antimony Kingdom.
The alchemist who defected from the Alchemy Association to create the ‘Twelve Keys’ was Valentin I, Star Antimony’s founder.
These alchemists, from commoners and minor nobles, didn’t dismantle the empire’s noble system.
They adopted it, barely changing old imperial traditions, laws, or bureaucracy.
Thus, the people welcomed Valentin I’s rule—a more enlightened, youthful emperor from humble roots, with minimal disruption to their lives.
This alchemist united all folk alchemists, declaring alchemy as the nation’s foundation.
He opened universities to teach alchemy, unbanning all alchemy books for sale.
‘Star Antimony’ means ‘lion’s heart,’ hence the kingdom’s golden heart emblem.
Unlike the orthodox alchemy of the Duchy of Narcissus, Star Antimony’s alchemists didn’t seek to ‘understand the world.’
They aimed to gain power to ‘change the world,’ creating only ‘useful things’ with utilitarian goals.
This is the core difference between ‘Star Antimony alchemy’ and traditional alchemy.
Part of modern ‘chemistry’ comes from Star Antimony alchemy.
No doubt, classmates—this is a key point.
It’s why Star Antimony’s power grew so fast, even overtaking the mighty Duchy of Narcissus and Black Eagle Duchy.”
Alchemists are proud.
No one can force an entire nation’s alchemists to research for the ruler’s or nation’s benefit—
Unless the alchemists themselves chose that path.
“During the Fractured War, Valentin I captured, studied, and analyzed Moon Children, demystifying some mysteries of the Love path and turning them into his power.
Afterward, he proposed a new concept: the Philosopher’s Stone was unattainable.
It violated the Balance path’s principle of ‘equivalent exchange,’ so he removed it as one of alchemy’s three ultimate goals.
He introduced a new goal, outlined in his book —to refine antimony and create ‘Star Antimony.’
Before this, antimony wasn’t among traditional alchemy’s ‘seven base metals.’
Antimony research began with Valentin I.
In alchemy, antimony represents animal nature.
Refining antimony means refining and elevating animal nature.
In other words—with the right method, any mortal can become a god.
This is the core belief of Star Antimony’s people.”
As Aiwas finished, the sandglass’s bell rang.
The textbook section was complete.
The students groaned in protest at the sound.
“Ugh, it’s over already?”
“Professor, let Aiwas keep talking!”
Aiwas’s “history” filled in vivid details glossed over in textbooks.
In this world, secrets are wealth, and knowledge is power.
His tales included basic alchemy knowledge, rare in Avalon, where alchemy had only risen for 20 years.
Most students had no access to it and were deeply curious.
Like niche science YouTubers, his stories captivated even the laziest students.
Aiwas deliberately focused on path conflicts and alchemy to create this moment.
Even top students like Haina, with her adaptability to the Transcendence path and rebellious streak, couldn’t resist its allure.
Though the queen permitted alchemy, it remained a mysterious subject, even at Royal Law University.
First-years were naturally even less immune.
Aiwas, two months behind, a professor’s son, and close to Haina, risked being distanced by classmates.
But he knew something.
These students held countless side quests.
Though he forgot their details and triggers, he recalled the map covered in white question marks and the key rewards.
In the game, when he first entered the school and saw those question marks after skipping the opening, he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Holy s*t!”
As an unknown outsider with no old friends, players needed at least two tasks to connect with classmates.
The first was solving a problem to earn trust.
For tougher classmates, it might require a complex task chain.
The second task—or the chain’s final one—was the real “quest.”
Completing it granted money, items, books, or unlocked reputation and secret shops.
Doing them one by one was too tedious and time-consuming.
Aiwas’s dazzling entrance aimed to make an impression and establish a “mysterious, gentle, and learned” persona.
Next, he’d build a “powerful and helpful” image, using his reputation to skip the initial “trust tasks.”
Seeing his classmates’ friendly, warm reactions, Aiwas knew his primary goal was achieved!
Thanks to Haina and the professor’s assist.
With the “transfer student” mystique, this approach worked far better than a normal enrollment!
(Chapter End)