Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 199: The First Lesson

“Following the time” was originally a characteristic and privilege of the aristocrats because only the aristocrats held the tools and methods to accurately calculate time. Whether they were magic timers or mechanical clocks from the Dwarf Kingdom, all of them weren’t items that civilians could possess. Thus, the aristocrats viewed “following the time” as a part of upper-class society, treating it as an etiquette and rule, while civilians simply relied on the sun and astrology to roughly gauge the time and arrange their work using that. This was a normality at any aristocratic territory other than the Cecil territory.

However, in the Cecil territory, everyone’s lives would strictly follow “time” — which hour and minute to start work, which hour and minute to end work, what time the mess hall served meals, what time night classes began. Everything had a precise timescale, from the territory officials to the common people; that was the case for everyone.

This was the change that Gawain brought. It was a change made to reverse the chaotic, primitive, and inefficient production model; only an exact timetable could ensure that factories could operate smoothly, and only an exact timetable could have people aware of the importance of efficiency. Initially, many civilians were rather puzzled by such a requirement; only because of the feudal lord’s great prestige did they confusedly follow this newly set rule. However, at this point, “punctual” had become a familiar term in the territory: even young children understood the necessity of punctuality.

This was because they had to come to school punctually for lessons — even earlier than the adults — and study longer than the adults; the requirements for them were even stricter.

Gawain had yet to implement full-time schooling for the time being, so the children of the Cecil territory currently had to spend half of their day helping their parents with manual labor at home. After lunch, they had to report to the “Cecil General Academy” located in the south of the territory.

This was a brand new school constructed using bricks and cement. Its main building was the territory’s most stylish building, with the largest area other than the various factories. And the Cecil territory’s flag fluttered above the square by the school, the huge and prestigious emblems of Cecil and Anzu printed on the walls —— Gawain was firmly convinced that the sense of honor and belonging had to be fostered from a young age. Compared to the adults whose worldview was already solidified, having children develop knowledge of this aspect early was even more important. Moreover, the distinct and dignified symbol of the school also helped in raising the civilians’ enthusiasm about “enrolling in school”: receiving education arranged by the feudal lord in such a stylish facility, this would become something very honorable in the eyes of many.

Even if they could not sense honor, Gawain wanted to instill in them the thinking that doing so was very honorable.

The adults’ night school began after work had ended in the evening, whereas the children attended lessons in the school from the afternoon. They would learn here until the sun set, then have a free dinner with the teachers (this dinner was also one of the motivations for adults being willing to send their children to school), and then continue learning after dinner. When the adults’ night classes ended, the children would return home together with their parents.

The mindset of adults was typically solidified: accepting new knowledge would become something rather difficult. Thus, Gawain’s demands for the majority of the adult workers in the territory was simply being able to read and count; at the least, they would be able to understand the operating instructions of the machines in the factories. On the other hand, children were precious “blank papers”: they had yet to be polished and numbed by life and could still accept liberal new thoughts and new knowledge. Therefore, Gawain always attached great importance to the children’s education.

At the beginning of the territory’s construction, there were almost no children in the entire town. This was because those who fled from the old Cecil territory were basically all robust adults. Although women and children were given priority during the evacuation, under the Dark Wave’s corroding environment, more than half of the children who had weaker constitutions weren’t able to survive. —— Only until several population expansions later did the Cecil territory finally have a juvenile generation once more. Some were slaves sold here together with their parents (if not for Gawain’s liberation system, these children and their descendants would be slaves for generations). There were also the homeless rescued by Joan and Tom. Even though these children still had to live in the buffer camp with their parents, there were arrangements for them to come for lessons at the academy every day.

Today, they were adding a special new course.

Santis Seid nervously tidied his clothes in the staff room. The staff room was very simple and unadorned, but there was a full-length mirror. A maxim that the feudal lord bestowed to the teachers of the academy was pasted on it: Be a mirror.

Santis straightened out his slightly worn magic robe, smoothing out the creases on the robe a little clumsily. He saw the maxim on the upper section of the mirror; there was wisdom in the feudal lord’s words, yet he still couldn’t quite understand why this maxim would appear here. Only, compared to understanding this phrase, he was more worried about whether he would be able to smoothly cope with this first lesson.

He was going to teach a group of poor children, getting them to learn knowledge that even children of wealthy merchants and Knights might not be able to take in. Could this really be done?

He had once worked as the family tutor of some merchants or small aristocrats; those children of the wealthy could more or less be considered “the future upper class of good upbringing”, but teaching them to study was still a chore, and now, he was about to face a bunch of children of serfs, slave laborers, contract slaves, and freemen. This young Grade 2 Arcanist literally didn’t dare to imagine how he would begin this first lesson with them.

But the bell for lessons was about to be sounded. Through the window, he saw the hunched old man responsible for sounding the bell already walking towards the brass bell hanging in the courtyard with a small hammer. Any more hesitance at this moment was meaningless.

Santis Seid tidied his collar one last time. Then, with a determined expression, he picked up the rough draft and lesson plan that he had prepared at the side, pushed open the door of the staff room, and strode out on wide steps toward the children’s classroom.

After pushing open the door, he saw two apprentices who were cleaning the room stare blankly at him —— he’d gotten the wrong door.

“Sor—sorry!” The haughtiness and imposing manner of an occupational spellcaster was completely absent in the young Arcanist. He nervously apologized, his face flushed due to embarrassment. Without waiting for the two apprentices to respond, he had returned to the corridor like he was escaping.

The bell for lesson had already sounded, but Santis consecutively pushed open the wrong door twice in the corridor before he found the classroom where he ought to be holding his lesson. He pushed open that door almost frantically. Upon seeing a room full of disorderly, dirty children of staggered ages dressed in patched clothes, he finally heaved a sigh of relief.

The children who rushed to lessons were making a din. Despite this not being their first time entering the school, the word “discipline” still hadn’t entered their heads. These children of different ages who came from different places treated the classroom as a place for gatherings, making it noisy and chaotic. Their parents could be serfs, freemen, slaves, or even refugees, but they’d yet to grasp the concept in this aspect, so all the children were mixed together, a complete, utter mess.

Usually, the teachers who taught the general-studies lessons could use loud voices to intimidate these children, but Santis Seid did not have such a loud voice (or the courage that corresponded with a loud voice). When he’d just pushed open the door to step in, the classroom had indeed gone quiet for a moment, but that was merely the children temporarily pausing their racket due to curiosity. Soon, the noise returned, and this time, the children’s focus of discussion had changed from dinner to the magic robe on Santis.

“Look! A new teacher!”

“A new teacher wearing a magic robe. That must be a magic robe!”

“The new teacher is a Mage lord! He must be able to conjure a dragon…”

“Shh, you’ll be dead if he gets angry!”

“That magic robe is so old…”

The slightly older children still knew to look at Santis’s magic robe and the short staff at his waist with fear, but those younger were completely fearless. They had yet to learn to immediately bow humbly upon seeing Mage lords, like their parents would. —— Similarly, Santis had also failed to grasp the “guts” of the common Mages who would casually toss out a small fireball when they were offended by rude lowly commoners and cripple them.

He could only release that few arcane bullets a day.

Hence, he could only open his mouth futilely, his voice so soft that even the first row could barely hear him well. “Be quiet… Everyone, be quiet. It’s time for class…”

No one listened to him, just as he had expected: the children of civilians were even harder to handle.

Santis felt perspiration oozing out on his face. He felt that his first lesson might have failed, but a handkerchief was suddenly handed to him from the side. —— He looked over in surprise and saw a girl with big eyes holding the handkerchief, looking at him.

This girl was slightly puny but was dressed in a very clean and neat cotton dress; there was also a small hairpin on her head. This showed that she probably came from a rather well-to-do family. She held the handkerchief forward again, opening her mouth to make “ah ah” sounds.

“Than—thank you…” Santis didn’t think that there would be a child this sensible. He immediately said his thanks while he took the handkerchief, wiping his perspiration and smiling. “You didn’t scream and shout like the others. You’re really sensible…”

His words had just fallen when a boy suddenly shouted out, “Because Pea is a mute!”

The girl with very big eyes immediately glared at the boy. The latter quickly shrunk his neck. “Sorry, Sister Pea…”

This girl was called Pea, and she was a mute?

Santis faltered for a moment. He recalled that he had indeed seen the odd name, “Pea” previously in the student register, but he didn’t expect to actually have a mute amongst his students.

And within two seconds of his daze, Santis suddenly caught, through his peripheral vision, a small hand poking out from under his desk. This hand was holding a slate used for writing; several words were crookedly written on it: Use a magic, sir.

Then, this slate was swiftly retracted. Santis didn’t even get a clear look of who it was from.

He was stunned for a moment and finally responded. Then, he briefly lifted his right hand. —— He only had a few precious chances of spellcasting everyday, and he was using one on his first lesson.

A small arcane energy ball flew out from his hand, all the way to the middle of the classroom; then it exploded with a pop. The magic sparks that scattered in all directions looked as if a firework had been lit up in the room.

All the children quietened down at once.

They watched their new teacher in awe, as if they’d only finally realized now, finally confirmed that —— this was a true Mage.

Just like Madam Heidi, he was a Mage.

The children gazed speechlessly at one another, while Santis finally knew what he ought to do.

“Children.” The young Grade 2 Arcanist put on a smile. He tossed his former experiences of tutoring the young aristocrats and merchants to the back of his head, throwing away those meaningless ostentatious opening remarks, throwing away those “etiquette of first contact” and rules, and said what he most wanted to say right now. “Let me tell you how to distinguish runes, as well as the basic theory for them to be effective.”

These children might not be able to release one spell using their own hands all their lives.

Santis turned around and used chalk to write down the title of the first lesson on the blackboard.

No one in history had considered imparting all the secrets of magic to every single person without reservation.

The fundamental runes for earth, fire, wind, and water were transferred from the tip of the chalk to the blackboard, followed by the derived runes of frost, lightning, and various others.

However, these children could use their brains to remember this knowledge, using paper and pen to calculate this knowledge. Miss Jenni had already proven the value of such “calculations”; the feudal lord also believed in these values.

Santis turned around. What he saw were dozens of curious and intent eyes —— they were capable of paying attention.

“Let us begin the first lesson.”