A person fears fame as a pig fears being fattened for the slaughter.
At this moment, Greg gained a deeply profound understanding of this ancient proverb through his own personal experience.
The moment he stepped into the Elective Theory Class for second-year students right as the final chime of the bell sounded, the classroom—previously filled with soft whispers—instantly fell into a bizarre silence.
Immediately, almost every pair of eyes in the classroom turned to him in unison.
Those gazes were filled with intensely complex emotions, like countless invisible rays pinning him to the doorway in an instant.
Even the old magic theory professor on the podium—who usually showed clear disdain for him, the former noble playboy—pushed up the crystal glasses on his nose, paused his gaze on Greg for a few seconds, and then gave him a remarkably rare, approving smile with a slight nod.
Greg: "..."
He felt the muscles in his cheek twitch almost imperceptibly.
Though he had anticipated something like this, as a dark rat dwelling in the dungeon, he really wasn't accustomed to being the center of attention.
Enduring these dozens of gazes that felt hot enough to burn right through him, he maintained as expressionless a face as possible and hurried to his seat in the back row by the window, trying his best to lower his presence.
However, this was only the beginning of the ordeal.
Halfway through the class, the old professor was explaining a complex theory regarding "the decay model and node compensation of elemental mana in composite magic arrays."
Because Greg had exhausted so much energy yesterday and hadn't gotten enough sleep this morning, listening to those obscure formulas and theories made his eyelids drop involuntarily. His head nodded rhythmically as he drifted toward catching up on his sleep.
Right before his consciousness sank into a sweet dreamland—
The old professor stopped writing on the blackboard, turned around, and lightly tapped the edge of the podium with his pointer. With eyes full of encouragement and expectation, his gaze passed over the curious heads in the front rows and landed squarely on Greg.
"Regarding the practical application of this mana decay constant in combat..."
The old professor cleared his throat, speaking loudly and deliberately drawing out his tone before changing the subject:
"Here, let us hear Student Greg's thoughts!"
"!!"
Greg's sleepiness vanished in an instant.
"As an outstanding student representative who, in yesterday's incident, relied on his own wisdom and courage to single-handedly defeat the Undead Knight..."
The old professor's tone was filled with unreserved admiration, his eyes shining bright:
"I believe Student Greg must have some... uniquely profound insights and views on 'the efficient use of mana' and 'adaptability in actual combat'!"
"Come, Student Greg, don't be nervous. Speak your mind freely. This will be highly inspiring for your classmates in connecting theory with practice!"
Once again, the eyes of the entire classroom locked onto Greg like spotlights.
Many students in the front rows even turned slightly to get a better look at his reaction, the girls' eyes glittering with curiosity and expectation.
Greg: "..."
Thoughts?
I don't have a single damn thought!
I've practically forgotten what that constant you were just talking about is even called!
All I want to do right now is sleep!
I really thank your ancestors back eighteen generations!
He complained frantically in his mind, but not a sliver of it could show on his face.
Meeting the old professor's eager gaze and the expectant stares of the whole class, Greg knew he had to say something.
To maintain his image, and also to smoothly participate in the Hundred Academy Exchange in the upcoming Act Three storyline, he couldn't drop the ball on an occasion like this.
He slowly stood up, his brain spinning with unprecedented speed.
He was indeed terrible at magic theory, but spouting nonsense and shifting focus were among his innate survival skills.
"Um... thank you for your trust, Professor."
Greg tried his best to make his expression look as though he were pondering deeply:
"Regarding this... theory of mana decay and node compensation, the professor explained it very clearly and thoroughly just now. I have benefited greatly."
He first politely affirmed the professor's lecture, then subtly shifted the topic:
"As for its application in actual combat... my personal humble understanding is that theory is ultimately just a framework and guidance. Real combat changes in an instant, and enemies will not act according to models in a textbook."
He paused before continuing:
"Yesterday, when facing the Undead Knight, I didn't have time to precisely calculate the decay constant of every magic spell or plan out perfect mana nodes. I relied far more on instinctual awareness of my own mana flow, rapid judgment of the enemy's attack rhythm and weaknesses, and... quick reflexes to combine and apply the magic techniques I usually practice in the most effective way under extreme pressure."
He cleverly skirted the specific theoretical details, guiding the focus toward empty yet politically correct directions like combat intuition, adaptability, and basic practice.
"So, I believe..."
Greg summarized:
"A solid theoretical foundation is certainly important—it allows us to avoid detours and understand the essence of magic. But in the end, what converts theory into genuine combat capability is battle-tested practice and the willpower to remain calm and make the right choices in life-and-death moments."
When he finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the classroom.
Then—
"Good! Well said!!"
The old professor slapped the podium heavily, an expression of supreme satisfaction—and even slight excitement—washing over his face as he boisterously praised:
"Neither arrogant nor impetuous, with truly original insight! Student Greg's words deeply point out the dialectical relationship between theoretical study and practical application! Without a solid foundation, one is like a tree without roots; without the tempering of combat and the willpower to stay unflustered in danger, even the best theory is merely a castle in the sky!"
As the professor spoke, he nodded vigorously, his eyes scanning the entire class:
"Did you all hear that? These are the precious insights that only a warrior who has endured hard trials can reach! Not trapped in the rigid frames of theory, nor dismissing theory's foundational role, while emphasizing the key role of willpower! This is the true talent our Glory Cael Academy should cultivate!"
The professor gave an extremely high evaluation to Greg's modest brushing-off, as if what he had said wasn't just a bunch of correct-sounding platitudes, but combat maxims containing deep philosophy.
With the professor's stamp of approval, the atmosphere in the classroom changed in an instant.
The girls' eyes when looking at Greg grew even brighter, filled with unreserved longing, admiration, and even a trace of... affection.
His insightful remarks just now, combined with his heroic deed of fighting the Undead Knight alone yesterday and his profile that looked slightly exhausted yet all the more resolute, multiplied his lethality manifold.
As for the boys...
Their expressions looked as though they had collectively swallowed a fly, or were suffering from three days of severe constipation, their faces turning alternate shades of green and pale, their gazes complex to the extreme.
They wanted to refute him, wanted to say, "That's nothing more than talking nonsense!"
But faced with the professor's obvious praise and the undeniable fact that Greg had indeed vanquished the Undead Knight, any refutation paled into insignificance. They could only choke it down, feeling immensely suffocated.
Sitting back down with a calm exterior, Greg couldn't help twitching the corner of his mouth internally:
It really is... once you achieve success, scholars will step up to rationalise your nonsense.
Sure enough, no matter which world it is, it's all just one giant jerry-rigged circus...
Rate on N.U.
