[The next day, outer gymnasium line of the Old School Building. ‘The Eighth Gym.’]
A “nunna-boy” drifting from Kyun-Kyun, straight into child abuse.
To be honest, summoning Jiryun might garner more faith through digital means, but there are certain aspects of this era that simply won’t allow for it.
Therefore, to some extent, there is a need to reform the environment that prevents young children from properly growing up in this age.
How?
“For example, creating a minimum number of volunteer hours for Academy students to fulfill by serving younger children as part of their graduation process.”
Or by the Academy itself establishing facilities that can support such efforts.
“What do you think?”
“Hm…”
Professor Ederson let out a heavy hum as he stepped into one of the vacant gymnasiums of the Old School Building.
“When I was suddenly summoned, I thought maybe Ludmila had gotten into some kind of trouble again. Didn’t expect it to be such an official topic.”
“I didn’t think I’d end up discussing a matter like this with the Fist King either.”
“It’s better this way. I’ve seen countless orphans while crossing many frontlines. Our mercenary corps did take care of some of them. A very small number.”
A very small number.
The rest weren’t treated any differently just for being orphans.
Because once you know that a loaf of bread given out of sympathy can ultimately lead a boy to his death, the answer is to not form attachments unless you’re truly going to take responsibility for them.
“Some noble families with children at the Academy do scout orphanages or slave markets, looking for talented kids to take in as attendants or even adopt.”
“Yes, if the child has talent.”
“…Those without talent are weeded out, left to survive on their own, become serfs, or pick up a sword. There’s a reason the mercenary world has so many orphans.”
“Those who made a name for themselves only did so because they clung to survival. The rest died hunting monsters, didn’t they?”
“…”
“The mercenary world is going to change a lot. While we can’t stop people from becoming monster hunters out of desperation, we can try to prevent them from becoming trolls who endanger others’ lives alongside their own.”
“That’s harsh.”
“It’s also reality.”
Even if a penniless commoner dreams of the stars and moon, without a foundation to make that dream come true, they’ll end up right back in the gutter.
“So, what are you planning? Just from your eyes, it seems like you want to become the Headmaster and reform the entire Academy.”
“I suppose I’d like to reform not only the Academy but the entire world.”
“What? Hahaha!”
Dean Ederson burst out laughing.
“Next you’ll be saying you’re going to rebuild the world.”
“Does it sound like a lie?”
“Not at all. That’s why it’s funny. It’s not some delusional talk—you seem to mean it, with real conviction. But still… Esdinas has a 500-year legacy. It won’t be easy to break that.”
“I’m thinking long-term.”
“Then what are you going to do for the children?”
“This.”
I unfolded the Academy grounds map that I had gotten in advance from Instructor Esta and showed it to Dean Ederson.
“At the center of the terminal that stretches out east, west, south, and north, we’ll build two ‘sub-Academies’ in each direction.”
“Sub…?”
“If Esdinas Academy is the main campus, then you can think of these as branch campuses. Although slightly different in nature, these branches will teach children from age 7 to 16.”
“Are you saying that before enrolling in Esdinas Academy, they’ll spend around nine years here to hone their talent?”
“No. What we’ll nurture here is their independence and capability—so that by the time they become adults, they can choose their own path.”
I pointed to the empty lot in the southeastern area.
“Among them, those who genuinely admire Esdinas Academy and wish to enroll will have that opportunity. Entrance exams will become more difficult overall, and nobles might feel uncomfortable seeing commoners—who would’ve been nobodies—trying to climb the social ladder by entering the Academy.”
“Sure. Esdinas Academy has a limited enrollment cap, and that limit is what gives its graduates value.”
“Yes. But have you ever had a thought like this?”
“What kind of thought?”
“That sometimes, kids you see randomly on the street seem more talented than noble-borns. And if you raise them for about ten years, they could grow—not to S-rank, maybe—but to at least B or C-rank, capable of holding their own.”
“Those kids—”
“Exactly.”
Dean Ederson paused for breath, frozen in place.
“Esdinas Academy is designed to produce one or two S-rank heroes. It might be optimized to deal with sudden appearances of S-rank monsters, but it might not be sufficient to handle the global scale of the upcoming Apocalypse.”
“…”
“What people need isn’t just S-rank Hunters who can take down giant monsters—but also D-rank mercenaries who can protect them from E-rank small fry while the S-ranks fight.”
“So your idea is… to thicken the lower and middle ranks. Raise them from the ground up.”
“That’s the idea.”
Dean Ederson fell into deep thought.
Once a project like this begins, there’s no turning back. That’s why both the planning and execution must be handled with utmost seriousness.
“What scale are you calculating for?”
“One thousand students per grade, for each sub-Academy. A total of nine grades.”
“…That’s going to require a massive budget and a lot of manpower.”
“We can earn the budget. As for manpower, whether they’re people with noble intent or just enticed by a good salary—once we post recruitment ads, they’ll gather on their own. And with the help of mages, the facilities can be constructed quite quickly. We already have a ‘model’ over there.”
When I pointed in the direction of the Old School Building, Professor Ederson flinched and tilted his head in surprise.
“You want to use the Old School Building as a template for the sub-Academies?”
“Yes. As close to the original structure as possible. If one Old School Building can support around a hundred undergraduates, then we simply build a surplus of them—enough to accommodate everyone.”
“You say terrifying things as if they’re nothing, don’t you?”
“It’s all for the sake of the children suffering in pain and hardship.”
Even for the sake of gathering faith for Kyun-Kyun-ism.
“Isn’t it the role of adults to at least provide a space where children abandoned by their parents can still hold onto hope and look toward a future? I believe Esdinas Academy is fully capable of that.”
“…”
“If budget is the concern, I’ll earn it myself. I’ll construct the buildings and provide supplies using the money made from things like Magic Pants, Magic Bras, and other items. That way, students in the sub-Academies can learn without any financial burden.”
“Idealistic. Admirable words. But ideals alone can’t build anything. Realistically…”
“Do you know how the Four Founders created the Old School Building in the first place?”
Twitch.
Professor Ederson paused at the mention of the Four Founders.
“What do you mean…?”
“What money did the Hero have? How could the Emperor—who wasn’t even Emperor yet at the time—have secured the budget so easily to build the Old School Building? The Sage? The Saint? No. They lived in shabby huts, and yet they built a brick schoolhouse and a library for the children.”
I handed a few sheets of paper to Professor Ederson.
Pah—!
As soon as he touched the paper, a vivid illusion materialized around us.
“This… This is…?”
“It’s a reconstructed environment based on documents from the Old Library and remnants of the Old School Building. A reinterpretation of what it looked like 500 years ago. It may not be 100% accurate, but I’d say it’s about 90%.”
Around the gymnasium, the Old School Building materialized.
A dozen or so children were huddled under the shade of a tree, surrounding a man who sat playing a lute and singing on the field.
“…!”
Among those children was one with perked-up wolf ears on his head.
“Is that… an illusion?”
“You could say it’s a mirage woven from the memories of the past. So it may not be completely true.”
“……”
“Well, I didn’t expect this to be enough to fully persuade you. That was 500 years ago. Now, to match the situation 500 years later, we’d need an enormous budget.”
“…Yes. In the end, it always comes back to the budget…”
“Which is why—I’ll offer up a part of my knowledge to cover it.”
“…!”
Professor Ederson’s eyes trembled.
“You’re saying… you have a way to earn that kind of money? Enough to turn those ideals into reality?”
“Yes.”
“Things like Magic Pants and Magic Bras are already—wait, come to think of it, you said it yourself. Even if you distributed those commonplace things for free, you wouldn’t do the same next time.”
“That’s right.”
“Then… What exactly are you going to profit from?”
“The most classic, familiar, and reliable method.”
I pointed to Professor Ederson’s ear.
“Hair.”
“……?”
“I know a spell that allows transplanting someone’s hair onto another person.”
If there’s hair that doesn’t fall out and causes no adverse health effects—would that still be called a wig?
“Hair woven by the delicate hands of children—silky and fine—can become a source of pride for someone willing to pay millions for it.”
