A man walked down the hallway. White coat, black shirt and ankle-tight bloomers; he was on his way to teach a class.
The sky is beautifully blue, cloud-decorated. The sun shining with its nice and warm rays of light. What a wonderful day! He stood in front the classroom's door, admiring what view the open corridor had provided.
He could feel the students' piercing gaze when he turned opposite to the door and admired the scenery. Their glares were expected. With how their previous professor had left to deal with an emergency, they find it unsatisfactory that a mere substitute like me would be teaching their class.
For his first time teaching, there wasn't much nervousness in the way he carried himself. But just in case, he took a deep breath, pushed down the door's handle, and gave the entire room a quick browse.
To his right were tiered seatings, full of students and around fifty of them. Ahead of him was a wooden desk and a chair on an elevated platform. It held a pack of chalk for writing on the blackboards on his left.
Two faculty members are supervising. He noticed, giving the two well-dressed men at the classroom's corner an unnoticeable glance before continuing to the wooden podium.
"No introductions." He strode over to stand at the platform. "Instead, I'd like one of you to go over what you have learned from previous sessions with your professor." Making it easy for me to understand your current understanding of energy. If I remember right, this is their fourth theory session.
It was a moment before someone raised their hand. It was a scrawny girl whom sat at the front of class. He immediately pointed at her to speak.
"We learned about energy forms and their types." She stood up.
Oof, that's it? He thought, expecting a lot more to be covered in an hour and thirty minutes worth of sessions, which was the equivalent of three Energy Theory classes.
"And what are these energy forms?" He added.
"Essence and authority. Essence is the stored energy within our bodies' core that we expel-"
"Misconception!" The substitute interrupted, shouting it loudly for everyone to hear. "Essence is not stored at your body's core, but in every single part of your body as a whole. Including your hands, eyes, knees and everything that is part of you aside from hair and nails. As for authority, it is the essence we expel beyond our bodies. Unlike essence, authority is the most known form of energy and likely the referenced part when someone mentions it."
"Does it matter?" said the scrawny one with a raised brow, irate from getting cut off.
"It does actually, especially for those of you pursuing a combat-oriented career." He stated. "Taking your sweet time, even if it was only two seconds, to channel your energy through your chest and arms would lead to slower casting than someone who could manipulate his essence wherever it is stored in his body. By the time you started shaping your authority, the opponent could have finished doing so."
"This is a thousand times worse if they had trained hand signs for the spell and some incantations for quicker effect-planting." He spoke. "Here, you will get away with some bruises and thin cuts. But in real battle, leaving with all your limbs would be a miracle." He traced a finger over his throat.
She froze silent, speechless now that he proved to be well-versed in the subject. Meanwhile, others exchanged fear-stricken looks. Perhaps it was a reality check for those lightly taking the combatant path, but also a reminder for those determined to take it, and are already aware of the risks it comes with.
I think that's enough for them. They are still young and enjoying their life. He decided, gesturing the scrawny girl to take her seat while he pondered something else; he remembered being told to give them a warning about something at the start of every session.
Right. Overcautious regulations.
"Before we commence," he clapped his hands. "I'd like to remind you all of an important rule you may have heard countless times by now."
"Unsupervised, or rather unauthorized casting is ABSOLUTELY prohibited. Punishments vary per the degree of offence, starting from a week-long suspension to complete expulsion."
And with that out of the way. He yawned, stretching his arms long into the air. "Let us start with your questions on theory."
Unlike before, many hands rose up to speak. In fact, some didn't bother asking for permission and went straight to spitting out their questions, talking over each other to get a chance at being answered.
They were all simple questions like "What is energy?" or "Where does it come from?". Nothing that induced a flaming passion in the substitute's heart.
I should have assisted in practical exercises instead… He sighed, bored listening to their questions. That is until a young man from the top-right corner asked an interesting one.
"Can any technique be learned? If so, can anyone just use prestigious clans' signature techniques." He asked with a spark in his eyes.
Now that's the look of someone who's going to go far. He thought, motioning for the young man to come down and join him on the podium.
"To answer your question, we must first breakdown what a technique is." He said, pulling the young man beside him to face the other students.
"What type of energist are you?" He whispered, to which the young man responded by reluctantly exhaling his lungs in an obvious manner.
I see, an Aeroist. Quite brave to admit that.
An Aeroist, or a person with natural gas-like energy, is the rarest type of energists out there and the most demanded, yet mistreated amongst people for being branded as self-destructive individuals and suicide bombers.
Well, it didn't stop at just mistreating them, otherwise; they wouldn't be so few-numbered. He thought. Because out of 300 newly-admitted students, only thirty of them would be Aeroists. A 10 in a 100 ratio compared to the two other types of energists.
"A technique is a mind-engraved spell. Constructed through repetition and muscle memory, practicing a spell over and over would eventually turn it to a technique." He said, shrouding himself and the young man in his authority. "What makes techniques prominent are taking a fraction of a second to form, and needing no mental effort other than an intent to activate it."
"Overall, constructing a technique takes dedication and effort, and proves to us your willingness to learn." Suddenly, the two began floating. "So that's likely to be the main focus of your first upcoming exam this year."
"P-P-Professor..." Stuttered the floating young man. "I-I-Isn't this the Aero Clan's f-flight technique!?" He exclaimed.
"Now to answer your earlier question." He turned to the young man. "Yes, anyone can learn any technique. And yes, anyone can learn a prestigious clan's signature techniques. That is if you have the founder's detailed research on the technique itself, and those are usually safe somewhere only the current clan's head knows. That is if he had not burned or disposed of them."
"After all, why need them when you can teach the technique's details directly to your successor." The two eased back onto the platform.
"But there must be a chance of leakage if most family members can use their signature clan's technique, right?" He asked rhetorically. "Well, no. Because inherited techniques are also constructed ones that were further practiced throughout the decades of a person's lifetime until it instilled itself to their soul." Or so they theorized. "If that person went and had children, then they are likely to have it too. That's what we call an 'inherited' technique."
"But it doesn't stop there, because it contradicts a spell casting requirement." He noted, turning away from the young man and facing the blackboards behind him. "When casting a spell, the desired effect must be pictured and the knowledge on how to create such effect is necessary for a successful spell. That is inherently the same with constructed techniques but not necessarily for inherited ones.
"Users have reported being able to use their inherited technique without the necessary knowledge to make it work, contradictory to the two former cases. We believe this is because the founder's knowledge is also engraved along with the technique, but not in the descendant's mind. That is why clans seem to not have any issues regarding information getting out." He exhaled.
"The only reason they would pass down a technique's details…" he gasped, "It's for that future successors could further improve over centuries." He stopped and took a moment to rest, checking if the students are still paying attention to his lecture and didn't give up at the amount of information.
Indeed, they were attentive. Just not what I had in mind… He contemplated, eyeing their silent expressions; mouths parted uttering no words and flinched heads that went backwards from surprise.
He had had just recalled what the young man shouted earlier. His shoulders gave up on staying upright.
He sighed tiredly, producing a flat piece of ice on his palm before cooling his heated forehead. I wonder if they even listened. He asked himself, moving to exit the room.
"And before any of you ask or spread any rumors." He turned by the doorstep. "No, I am not part of the Aero Clan nor had I acquired their research. This is my own devised flight spell, and I would NOT be sharing it anytime soon. Just to clear that out!" He shouted, shutting the door loudly behind him.
***
As a 24-year-old man who nonchalantly flexed flight magic to his students; a signature technique exclusive to the country's strongest clan. I believe I had made a mistake! He thought, scouting the corner, avoiding the suddenly crowded halls and any person that isn't the academy's headmaster.
And I think I am about to make another one. He admitted, conjuring a steel gauntlet for his fist.
"Fuck you, Astus!" He shattered the window's glass before jumping off with his flight spell casted. "If only you had done your job!"
Soon later, it was reported by an outsider that someone had jumped off the 4th floor of the classrooms building. Second-years and third-years say they had witnessed a dissipating trail of authority over the sky after hearing glass being broken.
Minutes later after finding traces of free authority on the broken glass, third-years were seen clashing against the second-years over accusing them of the incident. Fortunately, the fight resulted in zero deaths and no lethal injuries thanks to the collective effort and swift thinking of their teachers and instructors. Meanwhile, the academy's headmaster was at the first floor calming down a class of first-years whom had gone insane claiming their substitute teacher was capable of flight.
That day, nine faculty members were promoted for excellent service or the preservation of students lives. Many call this event "Sanity Break" for how almost all students had lost their grip on themselves.
It is said that over 400 month-long suspensions were issued that week.