novelraw Chapter 120: Volunteer Teaching
Chapter 120: Volunteer Teaching
These past few days Fisher had continuously stayed on this side of the laboratory to do training with Eliog. She wrote the combat skills into a small, thin booklet, and moreover, afraid Fisher wouldn't be able to understand, specially used a pictorial method to draw stick figures representing Fisher to help him understand the combat actions.
After physical stamina exercise, Fisher then practiced according to the moves and stances on it, and then demonstrated them for Eliog to see.
"Wu, speed isn't fast enough, and the way of exerting force is also incorrect... empty-handed is the first step of combat study and also the last step; true warriors will forever take fighting bare-handed to the death as their conclusion. You this fellow are lacking way too much in the will of combat. Rationality is of course required, but relying on wildness to command combat is also necessary."
This fellow Eliog indeed truly knew how to enjoy herself. She dragged out the lounge chair used for experiments inside the laboratory, and then aimed the direction of that chair toward the currently training Fisher. She could then comfortably lie down, motionless exactly like a paralyzed patient.
Merely that whenever there was anything incorrect during Fisher's training, she would raise her tail pointing and commenting at Fisher's actions.
Every morning Fisher would basically drill once under her gaze. But it seemed progress wasn't very smooth; having looked through it once, Eliog disappointedly lay her body down to sleep, completely unwilling to pay heed to him.
From childhood to adulthood, this was still the first time Fisher encountered a thing this difficult to grasp.
Fisher possessed a certain degree of doubt toward this kind of routine-like thing; he didn't quite understand how this kind of thing was utilized in actual combat.
Within a few days, aside from the training right at the start where Eliog didn't voice comments, basically whatever Fisher practiced later on she had to point and comment.
"You human. Let me ask you ao, what thing do you feel is the most important in combat?"Only until the morning of Monday did Eliog finally rise up as if unable to sit still, using her finger to point toward Fisher within the courtyard.
At this time he had just demonstrated the bare-handed combat methods she taught once before Eliog's eyes, and then she suddenly interrupted Fisher's actions, asking like so.
Fisher pondered for a bit, saying,
"Physique and combat skills?"
"Truly superficial ah, human."
Eliog sighed, subsequently raising a single finger,
"The absolute most, most, most important matter within combat is the will exclusively belonging to a warrior. Fellows having or not having a warrior's will shall present different effects during combat. You this fellow, treating all my things as formulas and techniques that need to be memorized; how could you possibly be able to use it out?"
"Ma, you ought to be considered the kind amongst humans who frequently uses their brains. But since you want to learn combat, then your line of thought must also be altered a bit for me ao... The so-called warrior's will, is the factor differentiating from any other individual wallowing in the fearful panic of being unable to pass the days. This endows you with primordial courage, the strength to find life in desperate straights, exactly like an eternally burning flame."
"Although right at the start having you understand is perhaps truly too high of a demand, I will still let you take a look at what the specific usage is like."
Having spoken, Eliog's expression turned serious. The flame of that tail behind her also burned increasingly brighter following her words, right until the temperature and color of that flame were as deep-sunk as Earth Marrow magma. She gently stretched a hand aiming toward Fisher to make an opening stance gesture, her target squarely aiming at the Fisher directly ahead of her.
Gentle breezes ceased right here. Before her, the atmosphere slowly grew scorching hot and oppressive. Yet from the depths of his soul transmitted a kind of fear and coldness of being targeted by a hunter.
But the next second, Eliog nevertheless didn't strike out that punch, instead sluggishly yawning, lying anew upon the lounge chair within the courtyard. Powerlessly waving her tail toward Fisher, exactly like waving a hand dismissing him,
"It's roughly like this. You comprehend it a bit yourself; if you can't learn it I have no methods either."
Fisher slowly extracted himself from the imposing aura of that demon just now. He pondered for a second or two, seeming as if having obtained something, yet also seeming as if having learned completely nothing.
If teachers could have rankings, this fellow Eliog would definitely be that batch ranked at the very back; namely the originator of the "letting things rot teaching" school. Whether one could learn it completely relied on the student's own innate talent. If it wasn't for Fisher indeed having no way of finding a suitable combat teacher recently, otherwise he absolutely would not have chosen this fellow.
Fisher practiced for another good while again, also gradually discovering where the problem lay. When he was exercising he was always considering the amount of force, filled with calculations everywhere, considering whether this move would be useful.
Perhaps Eliog fundamentally did not advocate for this kind of method; she advocated more for the guidance of imposing aura and natural instincts?
It was also possible the exercise of combat was entirely different from the methods of ordinarily practicing magic.
At any rate, right until he went to the university for classes on Monday, Fisher's combat skills progressed slowly. What was recorded on her skill manual were entirely foundational things like "grappling and throwing", "punching". Written at the back were also some methods on how to use weapons, leaving Fisher learning completely confused and baffled.
The morning class was just as before. Monday was giving classes to the first-year students. Sitting in the first row of the class again were the two students Jasmine and Isabel.
Jasmine seemed to have already tacitly acknowledged Fisher didn't discover her true identity that night. Right now although her gaze was still somewhat evasive, she at least still dared to sit in the first seat of his class.
Fisher however was thinking, if she was of the same race as the [Son of the Sea], then was there a possibility she exactly was the Son of the Sea? Furthermore, as a Whale-kin, what purpose did she have coming to human society; could it merely be for coming to the university to learn things?
Then why did she specifically have to flip the wall to go out that night?
Fisher's brain carried out dual-thread processing. While explaining simple magic knowledge, he considered the matters that occurred that night, and simultaneously considered how to quietly and noiselessly delve into the secrets of this Whale-kin a bit.
"Alright, today's curriculum ends here. I hope you have already submitted the assignment I left behind last week into my office mailbox. After this class, any delayed submissions will be viewed as invalid. Bring any questions to ask me at my office. Class dismissed."
Fisher cast a glance at that Jasmine sitting in the first row, seeing she was still recording class notes without looking toward him, and therefore didn't discover he was currently looking at her.
And there were no students below the dais having problems regarding the assignment either. Thus he picked up his things and left the classroom, heading to his own office.
The exclusive mailboxes of the teachers were in front of every academy's office building. In front of other academies were densely packed roughly a good several rows of mailboxes. Only in front of the magic academy was merely placed four; Fisher's was on the furthest left side.
He took out his keys to open the mailbox. Loaded inside was a huge stack of students' assignments. After confirming there were no omissions, he hugged the massive pile of assignments and returned to his own office.
Inside, Roger and Serena were still flirting.
"Hey, Mr. Fisher, you've returned... Oh, you unexpectedly assigned an assignment in the first week?"
"Yeah, roughly all just some foundational exercise problems."
Fortunately there were no students from Fisher's class here, otherwise they would truly curse mothers. Of course, this was directing at the matter of having an assignment in the first week; the difficulty of this assignment indeed wasn't large, if one properly pondered it.
"What are you chatting about?"
When Fisher came in just now he felt the conversational sounds inside the office were quite booming. He entering instead interrupted their talking; at this time Fisher opening his mouth again ignited that extinguished topic.
Roger smiled and said,
"Oh, it's like this. Our university recently received Volunteer Teaching activities in two blocks. They are currently recruiting professors to go to Saint-Nazareth's blocks to give some lively and interesting classes for the residents."
"The professors have quite a bit of remuneration, funded by the Church. You know, the Church does this kind of thing every year, but in the past it was entirely monopolized by the Royal Academy. This time our university even received a share of two large major blocks."
The nearby Serena was forever the first-hand source of this kind of information. Waiting until Roger finished speaking, she then enthusiastically supplemented,
"However it's no matter for our magic academy. Magic curriculums also have no way of being brought into this kind of enlightenment-style classroom. Their requirement is to be interesting and conform to practicality; such as ethics, theology, and economics or whatever..."
Fisher nodded, as if also recalling some past matters.
Every year, Saint-Nazareth's churches would spend their own money to hire teachers from various schools to enter block churches to give classes. People coming over to attend classes didn't need to spend money, and could still receive cookies and desserts or whatever distributed by the Church.
All sorts of people participated in the classes, because it was free, and the time was also at night, not occupying people's working times.
Fisher rather wanted to go sign up to participate a bit in the Volunteer Teaching, if there was an opportunity.
Because he still remembered when he stayed in the orphanage during his childhood, the first time contacting knowledge was precisely within a block church's Volunteer Teaching. The professor was Professor Amisel of the Royal Academy; the main lecture was ethics, a domain that was still extremely profound for children.
Fisher still remembered the social contract arguments he spoke of at the time. This was still the first time from childhood to adulthood Fisher contacted such a novel viewpoint. This made the childhood him ignite a yearning for seeking knowledge; so the following year he risked his life to snatch a quota to enter a church school, and then arriving at city academies, Royal Academy right until today.
Thus, Fisher then opened his mouth to inquire toward them regarding news of this Volunteer Teaching,
"Who is in charge of this matter? When the time comes I'll go over and ask."
Serena amazedly cast a glance at Fisher, subsequently subconsciously replying,
"It's the Dean's office... But possibly logic classes won't be opened this year either..."
"Hey, Serena, did you forget Mr. Fisher has three degrees?"
Compared to Serena, Roger evidently understood Fisher far more. He smilingly raised his coffee to remind Serena a bit, again making her redden her face and glare at him. The specific meaning wasn't known; anyway it provoked Roger into bursting into laughter,
"This is a good thing, whether in public or in private it's all like this. It is exactly because the Church takes so much money to invest in this aspect every year that their public reception is better than the Parliament. In this aspect, they indeed do not bad."
Fisher smilingly agreed, returning to his own office. Somewhat distressedly he placed that huge stack of assignments onto the small table nearby. In the end he still had no choice but to come grade their assignments himself.
There were assignments of roughly 50 people here. Fisher grading assignments also liked to thoroughly read everyone's, so it ought to cost quite a bit of time.
But anyway he also didn't have any matters. He decided to remain in the school in the afternoon to handle tasks a bit, concurrently giving the Dean's office a call, speaking a bit about the matter of himself signing up for Volunteer Teaching.
The entire afternoon, Fisher was reading and grading assignments. At the office desk, Fisher coldly and sternly used a fountain pen to draw dozens of circles on an assignment, and then graded the very first assignment for this schoolmate.
When seeing a certain place, Fisher's expression grew a bit colder. As if having thought of something, he kept a previous assignment, comparing them against each other a bit. Subsequently he crossed out the original score of that latter one into a zero. Beside that big fat goose egg zero, the name "Isabel" appeared that conspicuous.
Fisher didn't speak. Putting down the fountain pen used for grading assignments, he used his hand to dial the dormitory student telephone,
"Hello, I am Fisher Benavides of the Magic Academy. Please notify the first-year student schoolmates Jasmine and Isabel of the Magic Academy to come to my office a bit. Thank you."