This Novel is not my Novel

After some light stretching and a lap around the auditorium, Reisir's expression settled back into its usual calm.

That didn't mean he'd forgotten what the princess had said.

He told me it was better to eat what he brought than to go hungry... and then this happened.

As the clock approached five, the Special Class students began arriving one after another, with the exception of Helga and Lissy.

Yet Reisir didn't offer an energy bar to anyone.

Even Vigdís and Ríolíkin, who were on friendly terms with him, received nothing more than a simple morning greeting and a polite, "Did you sleep well?"

Perhaps it was because Princess Fjodora was watching.

Or perhaps, after hearing her dismiss them as junk food, he felt awkward handing them out.

She must have hurt his feelings. His pride, too...

And here I am getting upset over it.

I knew Fjodora hadn't meant to embarrass Reisir.

Even so, describing something as practically inedible in front of people who had just eaten it was undeniably rude.

I should have said something then...

Unfortunately, that opportunity had already passed.

By then, not only were all the students assembled, but the professor had arrived as well.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you in the Special Class for Awakened Ones. My name is Banhilda Beyzl. Before we introduce ourselves, I'd like to call attendance so I can put names to faces. Is everyone alright with that?"

As I'd briefly mentioned back in Chapter 172, every professor who taught Awakened students was a supporting character from the original story.

Some eventually became the protagonist's companions. Others remained trusted allies who occasionally fought alongside him.

Banhilda belonged to the first group.

She was the one who welcomed the wandering Reisir—who belonged nowhere—into her own Einherjar Team.

Even though this happened long after Fjodora's death, when the rumor that Reisir had deliberately sacrificed his companions had already spread everywhere...

By then, Reisir had become convinced that everyone who grew close to him would eventually die.

He pushed everyone away.

Still, there was only so much a single person could accomplish against boss monsters alone.

Sometimes he worked as temporary reinforcement for Einherjar Teams that needed extra strength. Other times he formed short-lived alliances with strangers he couldn't trust.

He met Banhilda during one of those assignments.

Not as the leader of an Einherjar Team—

—but as a professor standing before us now.

Once she'd finished calling attendance, Banhilda began introducing herself.

"I've already told you my name, so I'll skip that. I'm forty-three years old. Before becoming a professor, my occupation was..."

She paused.

"...Can I even call it an occupation?"

Her voice trailed off as she muttered to herself, lost in thought.

There was a reason she reacted that way.

"I made a living by capturing wanted criminals and collecting the rewards from the Guard Unit. People call that sort of work 'bounty hunting.' Sounds impressive, doesn't it? But really, it was just a lowly existence—wandering around alone without a home or even a proper profession."

She smiled bitterly as she mocked herself.

Banhilda had never liked being a bounty hunter.

She had only entered that line of work to hunt down the murderous demon who had slaughtered her husband and son—and to exact revenge with her own hands.

That past was also why she later accepted Reisir despite all the rumors surrounding him, comforting him when he tried to sever every human connection.

If her son had lived...

He would have been exactly Reisir's age.

Even their hair was the same color.

In the end, she saw her dead son in Reisir.

Eventually, Banhilda succeeded in taking her revenge.

Reisir, however, could only kill the person who had taken away those precious to him.

The phenomenon known as the Demon Realm—the force responsible for stealing countless more lives—could never be destroyed by human hands.

She pitied him deeply.

His revenge was directed at something that could never truly be erased.

"Oh, right. My Ether Attribute Skill is 【Super Regeneration】, so most injuries heal almost immediately. If we ever enter a Demon Realm together, don't worry too much if I get hurt. You don't need to risk yourself trying to protect me."

She had said almost exactly the same thing in the original story before the remake.

That her Ether Ability made her difficult to kill.

That she had survived the day her family was murdered only because of it.

That since then her regenerative power had become even stronger, so Reisir never needed to fear losing her.

Little by little...

Banhilda opened the door to the heart Reisir had sealed shut.

She did everything she could to heal the wounds inside him.

As though comforting the younger version of herself who had desperately chased an unknown murderer.

As though embracing the son she had lost forever.

She treasured Reisir with all her heart.

And after he finally opened up to her...

...she died.

After Banhilda's death in the original story, the members of her Einherjar Team blamed everything on Reisir.

"It's because she let that cursed man into the team."

That was their conclusion as they drove him out.

Not because she had died protecting him.

The boss monster had simply been overwhelmingly powerful.

Even so, Reisir accepted every accusation without protest and sank even deeper into self-loathing.

"Still... I never imagined I'd become a teacher responsible not only for the children of noble families, but even for Her Highness the Princess..."

As I forced myself out of my thoughts, Banhilda's quiet muttering reached my ears.

Come to think of it, before the remake, she had already avenged her family long before this point.

She had retired from bounty hunting, become an Einherjar, formed her own team, and was already an active veteran before meeting Reisir.

I wonder what Author Senna decided this time...

Everything depended on the revised setting.

Perhaps she'd already completed her revenge.

Or perhaps she'd never even discovered the identity of the murderous demon who killed her family and had been compelled by the Imperial Family to become an Academy professor instead.

If it was the latter...

Then that incident was destined to happen.

For everyone's sake, I hoped she'd already found peace.

"Does anyone have any questions for me?"

There was no way I could ask about her revenge.

So I quietly kept my mouth shut.

Banhilda waited patiently for someone to speak.

No one did.

Leaving everyone else aside... I didn't expect even the Information Guild's successor to stay silent during a question session.

Pret had probably already investigated not only every student, but every Awakened professor as well, including Banhilda.

Or perhaps there was something he wanted to ask.

Something he simply couldn't bring himself to say aloud.

Just like me.

"It seems none of you have any questions. Then let me ask instead. Is there anyone here who's never learned martial arts before?"

Only Sveinn raised his hand.

Judging from the betrayed look on the former traitor's face as he glanced toward Pret, he'd apparently assumed his fellow commoner had no experience either.

Pret caught the look and laughed.

"Ahaha! The older brothers and sisters in the circus troupe always told me I needed to know how to protect myself, so they taught me all kinds of things!"

He delivered it like a joke.

For some reason, I had a feeling Pret would continue using "the circus troupe" as a convenient explanation for everything in the future.

"Student Pret, how long have you studied martial arts?"

"About ten years, if we're talking about time. But I never trained consistently. The older brothers and sisters only corrected my form now and then, so my 【Martial Arts】 grade isn't actually very high."

"Ah, that's right. Since all of you are Awakened, you can check your own skill grades, can't you? Though... is that really something I should ask?"

Banhilda thought it over before shaking her head.

"No, better not. Two people can have the same grade while possessing completely different foundations. One may rely on solid fundamentals, while another compensates for weak basics through technique. I need to observe each of you myself before deciding how to teach."

It was an undeniably professional answer.

Just as I was beginning to think she seemed extremely reliable—

—she immediately followed it with something far less reassuring.

"That said... I don't actually have much experience teaching anyone, so I'm not sure how good I'll be at it. For now, I'd like to see what each of you can do, so feel free to use the sandbag."

...

Even if she said that, I doubted she was actually a poor teacher.

Surely the Imperial Family had simply prioritized her status as an Awakened and her combat ability without thoroughly evaluating her teaching experience.

There was no way Author Senna would assign "terrible at teaching" to a professor whose role was to help the protagonist rather than oppose him.

No matter how inexperienced she is, she can't possibly be as hopeless an instructor as Vigdís.

That thought eased my worries.

Then I stood before the rotating sandbag for the first time...

...and had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do.

While I hesitated, trying to figure it out—

Thwack. Thwack.

The dull impacts came from Fjodora and her familiar, Lausa.

Apparently they were already familiar with this kind of training equipment.

With effortless footwork, Fjodora slipped beneath the spinning arm, struck both punching targets with her fists, then drove a kick into the central cylinder, chaining together a seamless series of attacks.

Meanwhile, Lausa took to the air, circling both Fjodora and the apparatus.

Carefully avoiding both her master and the rotating arm, the eagle battered the targets with her wings and raked them with razor-sharp talons.

Despite that, the equipment showed no sign of damage.

Looks like it's reinforced with Ether Engineering...

A troubling thought suddenly occurred to me.

Surely Yor isn't expected to do this too...?

I turned toward her.

Without hesitation, Yor pulled out her whiteboard and wrote:

「Impossible」

She meant it was impossible for her to move the way Lausa did.

I couldn't have agreed more.

If Yor started circling around like that...

...it was only a matter of time before some monster snatched up that long, slender body.

After that...

I decided not to picture the rest for the sake of my own sanity.

"In that case, stay over there and play by yourself."

"Nya-nyang!"

After I'd more or less figured out how the rotating sandbag worked, I sent Yor off to one side and began trying it myself.

The impact was surprisingly heavy.

It required far more strength than simply throwing punches and kicks into empty air.

At the same time, I had to stay aware of dodging and guarding—movements that were easy to neglect while focusing entirely on offense.

Still... this seems best suited for practicing alone.

Once someone reached a certain level of mastery, I felt even visualization training would probably be more effective.

I could understand now why this apparatus hadn't been used in the standard martial arts classes.

Once students had mastered the fundamentals...

...actual sparring was simply a far ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) better way to improve.