Strong footsteps reverberated through the classroom, each step deliberate and echoing in the silence. Unlike the other classrooms, this one had no windows to the outside world. The only view available was the dimly lit classroom directly opposite, always eerily empty during this particular lecture.
"Today," a commanding voice cut through the stillness, "We have the final lecture of your tenure here—the final class of A.W.S. 506." The speaker’s tone was both solemn and authoritative, his footsteps punctuating each word as he moved about the room. This was Professor M, a man whose diminutive stature and aged features belied the formidable presence he carried. Despite his partially bald head and deeply etched lines of experience on his face, there was an air of intimidation about him that had cowed even the most rebellious of students.
The nearest student was at least ten feet away. Professor M never used a desk; he didn’t need one. Once, when a curious student had dared to ask why he never used a workbench, the professor had replied with cold indifference, "The day I need notes to educate students on this subject is the day I resign." The answer had silenced the class, though few believed it wasn’t a matter of height.
A sharp snap of his fingers brought a piece of chalk levitating into the air. It swiftly scrawled a name across the whiteboard in blue ink, a sharp contrast against the pristine surface.
"Professor M," it read.
Many had debated what the "M" stood for, but not a single student had dared to ask. Now, as they prepared to graduate, the mystery remained unsolved, a parting enigma that gnawed at the more inquisitive minds in the room.
Professor M began his slow, methodical pacing around the classroom, his sharp eyes ensuring that every student had their writing materials out and ready. Occasionally, he would grunt in disapproval whenever he spotted something that displeased him—a crooked notebook, a dull pencil, or a sluggish student. He rarely bothered to explain what was wrong; he expected them to figure it out. Those who failed to correct the issue after three consecutive grunts found themselves losing four points out of a possible ten for class participation—points that were generally considered easy to earn but critical to pass.
"As this will be our final session," Professor M continued, his voice devoid of warmth, "the school, with the express permission of our esteemed Seven-Star Scourge, who himself has been granted authority by the King, has deemed this class talented enough to be made aware of information concerning the other nations. You will learn how we relate to them, the types of mana techniques they utilize, and most importantly, why we must uphold the Stalemate Act of 94 R.C."
A wave of excited murmurs swept through the room. Professor M allowed his students a minute or two to revel in their newfound privilege. Information about the other nations was a closely guarded secret, and revealing it without the proper clearance was considered treasonous. That everyone in this graduating class had been deemed qualified to hear such information was an extraordinary honor—one that had only been bestowed upon a class once before in the past decade.
As the whispers of excitement gradually subsided, Professor M’s gaze swept the classroom. He noticed Mark, one of his more reserved students, laughing softly as his friend Annabeth playfully tugged at his cheek, urging him to smile. Professor M allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence—a fleeting smile—before clapping his hands sharply to restore order.
"That’s enough," he said, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. The room fell silent at once.
"We will begin with resources," Professor M announced, his tone now all business. "As you know from our previous sessions, our nation is blessed with an overabundance of mana trees. These trees draw in the air around them and release pure mana into the environment. In some locations, the concentration of mana is so high that it saturates the air, allowing individuals with caster professions to utilize it without depleting their own reserves. Those without such professions can still use the ambient mana to enhance their physical abilities."
He paused, allowing the students to finish jotting down the information. The sound of pens scratching against paper was the only noise in the room. Satisfied, he continued.
"What you were not told before," he said, lowering his voice as if imparting a great secret, "is that more than 80% of the mana produced by these trees seeps into the soil through their roots. Over time, this accumulated mana crystallizes into mana stones of the highest quality. The very best of these stones are then processed and converted into a liquid form—an essential ingredient in the profession awakening potion that you will all consume in a few days."
The revelation sparked another round of murmurs, this time tinged with surprise, shock, and disbelief. Professor M noted with interest that while most of the students were visibly startled by the information, the King’s nephew, seated at the back of the room, appeared entirely unfazed. It was no surprise, of course—such knowledge was likely common in royal circles. However, Professor M’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Annabeth and Mark, both of whom also seemed unusually calm. Had the royal scion shared this information with them? If so, what else might they know that they shouldn’t?
Clearing his throat, Professor M quickly silenced the classroom once more. He would allow these interruptions today, he thought, but only because it was their final class.
"Due to our excess of mana stones," Professor M continued, resuming his lecture, "we are the largest exporters of these stones in the known world. Some of you will be assigned missions to guard shipments of mana stones as they are transported to other nations. Be aware that these missions are fraught with danger—there are always rogue squads seeking to intercept such valuable cargo."
His gaze turned steely as he added, "High-grade mana stones are exceedingly rare, and awakening potions made from them are not classified the same. This is why you have all been working so hard to gather points. Your total points accumulated thus far will be multiplied by a factor of fifteen. Of this, 7.5% is contributed by the school, and the remaining 7.5% comes directly from the King’s treasury. This is a privilege granted to no other institution but this one. Consider yourselves blessed."
The gravity of his words was not lost on the students. For a moment, a heavy silence hung in the air—one born of fear and anticipation.
"It is well documented," Professor M continued, his voice softer now, "that the purer the mana stone used in crafting an awakening potion, the greater the likelihood of awakening an advanced profession class. The silence this time was a welcomed change for Professor M, it would seem fear would do that to people."
"As you know, we explore dungeons and clear them out to acquire artifacts, items, and mana crystals. What you do not know," he said, his voice taking on an edge, "is that these are not dungeons at all. They are, in fact, Gates."
He paused, letting the significance of his words sink in. The students exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what to make of this new information.
"These Gates," Professor M continued, "function similarly to dungeons, but with one crucial difference. Instead of simply entering a cave or similar structure, passing through a Gate transports teams to entirely different locations—deserts, snow-covered landscapes, aquatic worlds, and more. Inhabiting these places are creatures and beings that, if not defeated, could spill into our world and bring about untold suffering. The time frame before a Gate ruptures and allows entry from the other side is unpredictable, so we must always confront any Gate the moment it appears."
The room was deathly quiet as Professor M’s words hung in the air like a dark cloud. The students were absorbing the enormity of the task that lay before them. It was one thing to train for battle; it was another to know that failure could mean the end of the world as they knew it.
"The Stalemate Act of 94 R.C.," Professor M said, his tone more solemn than ever, "was established to prevent such catastrophic events. It is a pact that all nations must honor. The Seven-Star Scourge himself was instrumental in its creation, and it is our duty to ensure that it is upheld."
A heavy silence followed his words, as each student pondered the weight of their new responsibilities. The room felt colder, the atmosphere thick with tension.
At that moment, Mark, who had remained silent for most of the lecture, raised his hand. Professor M acknowledged him with a nod.
"Professor," Mark began cautiously, "if these Gates are so dangerous, why hasn’t there been more public awareness about them? Why keep such critical information hidden from the general populace?"
Professor M regarded Mark with an appraising look, his sharp eyes boring into the young man as if weighing the merit of his question.
"The answer," Professor M said slowly, "lies in control. Knowledge is power, and power, when left unchecked, leads to chaos. The general populace is not equipped to handle the truth about Gates. Imagine the panic, the hysteria, if every citizen knew that at any moment, a rupture could unleash horrors upon our world. Our society would crumble under the weight of such fear. The task of confronting these Gates falls to those who are trained, disciplined, and prepared to bear the burden of that knowledge. It falls to you."
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Mark nodded, though the answer seemed to leave him with more questions than answers
Certainly! Below is the expanded version of your story, incorporating the details about the Stalemate Act and the Star Promotion Exams, and extending the classroom scene to delve deeper into the explanations.
---
"Now," Professor M said, his voice regaining its earlier authority, "let us discuss the mana techniques of other nations. Each nation has developed a unique approach to harnessing mana, shaped by its geography, culture, and history. For instance, the Southern Isles have perfected the art of water-based mana techniques. However, their true power lies not just in manipulating water, but in their mastery of sealing techniques. These methods allow their casters to bind and suppress the abilities of others, making them formidable adversaries in both offense and defense."
He paused to let the students absorb the information, noting the mixture of curiosity and apprehension on their faces.
"The Southern Isles," he continued, "draw upon the fluid nature of water to develop intricate seals that can restrict mana flow, trap souls, and even bind powerful entities. These techniques have given them a significant advantage in naval warfare, where they can seal away an enemy’s mana before launching a devastating counterattack. It is said that their greatest sealmasters can silence an entire battalion with a single, well-placed seal, leaving their enemies helpless and vulnerable."
The students listened intently, their pens scratching across their notebooks as they hurried to capture every word. Professor M allowed the weight of his words to settle before moving on. He could see that they were trying to visualize these powerful techniques, imagining themselves facing such formidable opponents on the battlefield.
"The Eastern Empire, on the other hand, has developed an entirely different relationship with mana. While they are well-known for their earth-based techniques—allowing their soldiers to manipulate the ground, create barriers, and even erect fortresses—their true strength lies in the forging and awakening of mana blades."
He noticed a flicker of interest in the eyes of several students, particularly Elizabeth, who had always shown a keen interest in weaponry.
"In the Eastern Empire," Professor M elaborated, "their blades are not mere weapons. They are extensions of the warrior’s soul, forged with mana and awakened through rigorous training and ritual. It is rumored—though not confirmed—that the process of awakening a mana blade is akin to the way we awaken our bodies to professions. These blades grow in power over time, and some have become legendary, capable of slicing through the toughest of armors, including dragon scale, with three precise strikes."
Elizabeth raised her hand, unable to contain her curiosity. "Professor, is it true that these awakened blades can act on their own, as if they possess a will of their own?"
Professor M considered her question for a moment, then nodded. "Indeed, there are tales of such blades, though they are rare. The most powerful mana blades are said to be semi-sentient, reacting to their wielder’s intent and even moving to protect them without direct command. The bond between a warrior and their blade is one of the most sacred in the Eastern Empire, and it is believed that the blade’s strength is directly tied to the purity of that bond."
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, her mind clearly racing with the possibilities. Mark, seated next to her, glanced her way, noticing the gleam of excitement in her eyes. He, too, had questions, but he chose to hold them for now, sensing that the lecture was far from over.
Professor M resumed his pacing, his sharp eyes sweeping over the room to ensure he had the students' full attention before continuing.
"The Northern Territories," he began, his tone darkening as he spoke, "are perhaps the most mysterious of all the nations. Their approach to mana is... unsettling. Unlike the other nations, which use mana to augment their abilities or channel it through tools, the Northerners consume it. They integrate it into their very being, a practice known as Mana Assimilation. This process allows them to become one with the mana, gaining immense power, but at a cost. Those who undergo Mana Assimilation often lose a part of themselves, becoming more mana than human."
A palpable tension filled the room as the students absorbed this unsettling information. Professor M noted the discomfort on their faces, particularly that of Mark, who had grown increasingly thoughtful as the lecture progressed. Mark had always been inquisitive, often questioning the status quo, but now he seemed more concerned than curious.
Unable to hold back, Mark raised his hand, and Professor M acknowledged him with a slight nod. "Professor, if the Northern Territories are so dangerous, why hasn’t the Stalemate Act addressed this? Shouldn’t there be more effort to curb their influence, considering the potential threat they pose?"
Professor M regarded Mark with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The Stalemate Act was designed to maintain a delicate balance," he explained, his tone measured. "It’s not about eradicating threats but about keeping them in check. The Northern Territories are indeed dangerous, but they are also necessary. Their role in the global equilibrium is as vital as that of any other nation. The Act ensures that no single power grows too strong, that no single threat becomes insurmountable. To act against them directly would be to upset that balance and risk plunging the world into chaos."
Mark nodded slowly, though it was clear he was still processing the implications of the professor’s words. Professor M observed him carefully, noting the uncertainty that lingered in the young man’s eyes.
Elizabeth, too, seemed deep in thought. The idea of blades that could cut through dragon scale armor fascinated her, but the concept of Mana Assimilation left her with an uneasy feeling. She glanced at Mark, sharing a look of concern, but neither spoke.
Professor M continued, addressing the class as a whole. "Now, let us discuss the Western Kingdoms. Their expertise lies in wind-based mana techniques, which have made their armies both swift and elusive. However, the Westerners do not rely solely on speed. They have also mastered the art of aerial combat, using their control over the wind to dominate the skies."
He paused to gauge the students’ reactions. The Western Kingdoms were well-known for their prowess in battle, but few outside their borders understood the full extent of their capabilities.
"In the Western Kingdoms," Professor M continued, "mana is not just a tool for the individual—it is a force that shapes the battlefield. Their soldiers can summon powerful gales to scatter enemy formations, create wind barriers that deflect incoming attacks, and even ride the wind to outmaneuver their opponents. In addition, their skyships, powered by wind mana, are unmatched in speed and maneuverability, giving them a strategic advantage in any conflict."
A student at the back of the room tentatively raised her hand. It was Sarah, one of the quieter members of the class. Professor M acknowledged her with a curt nod.
"Professor," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "what happens if one of these skyships were to be grounded? Wouldn’t that render the Westerners vulnerable?"
Professor M’s expression softened slightly, impressed by the insightfulness of her question. "Indeed, Sarah," he replied, "a grounded skyship is vulnerable. However, the Westerners are well aware of this weakness and have developed contingencies. Their soldiers are trained to defend their ships at all costs, and their ground forces are no less formidable. Even without their skyships, the Western Kingdoms’ mastery of wind-based techniques ensures that they remain a formidable opponent."
Sarah nodded, satisfied with the answer, though the notion of skyships intrigued her. She wondered what it would be like to ride one, soaring above the clouds, free from the constraints of the earth.
Professor M allowed a brief pause for the students to absorb everything before moving on to a different, but equally important, topic.
"As you all know, the Stalemate Act of 94 R.C. is a critical element in maintaining the balance of power between nations. It was established to prevent full-scale wars by ensuring that no single nation could grow too powerful without opposition. But what you may not know is how deeply integrated the Star Promotion Exams are within this act."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in, noting the shift in the students’ attention as they realized the significance of what he was about to explain.
"The Star Promotion Exams," he continued, "are more than just a test of individual strength and skill. They are a mechanism through which the Stalemate Act is enforced. Every year, instead of engaging in outright war, nations send their very best combatants to represent their empires in a series of battles. These battles determine not just the fame and promotion of the victors, but also carry tangible rewards—artifacts, titles, and most importantly, land."
The room was silent, the students hanging on his every word.
"The empire or kingdom that wins these battles is allowed to claim land closest to its border from any of the other empires. The size of the land is deliberated upon by the empires’ ambassadors, and it usually ranges from a county to a duchy, depending on the relative strength or weakness of the other nation to the winning nation. The further ahead an empire gets during the exams, the less land they have to give up."
He saw a few students exchange glances, the gravity of the situation dawning on them.
"Moreover," Professor M added, his tone now sharp and precise, "the winning nation has the right to trade this land with another empire in exchange for whatever they please. This means that the outcome of these exams can shift the borders of nations, altering the balance of power without a single army marching into battle. It is a system designed to maintain peace, but it is also one that keeps the world on edge, as each empire seeks to gain an advantage without crossing the line into outright war."
Elizabeth, who had been quiet for a while, spoke up. "Professor, if the Star Promotion Exams are so crucial, why isn’t more emphasis placed on them in our studies?"
Professor M fixed her with a steely gaze. "Make no mistake, Elizabeth. Everything you have learned here, every skill you have honed, has been in preparation for those exams. They are not merely tests—they are the embodiment of all you have trained for. The reason we do not speak of them often is because they are not for the faint of heart. Only the strongest, the most capable, will be selected to represent our nation. It is an honor and a burden, one that you must be ready to bear when the time comes."
Elizabeth nodded, understanding now the weight of what lay ahead.
Mark, who had been silent since his last question, finally spoke up again. "Professor, is it true that some nations use the Star Promotion Exams to test new techniques or weapons?"
Professor M regarded him with a thoughtful expression. "Yes, Mark. The exams are not only a measure of current strength but also a proving ground for new advancements. Nations often use the opportunity to test their latest techniques, weapons, and strategies in a controlled, yet high-stakes environment. It is both a risk and a necessity, as those who fail to innovate often find themselves left behind."
Mark absorbed this, his mind already racing with the implications. The exams were more than just a contest—they were a stage on which the future of nations could be decided.
Professor M, satisfied that the gravity of the Star Promotion Exams had been adequately conveyed, decided to bring the lecture to a close. He returned to the front of the classroom, his posture as rigid and imposing as ever. He surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on each student as if committing their faces to memory. His thoughts, however, lingered on Mark, Elizabeth, and their friend, the King’s nephew. He had initially suspected that the young noble had shared more information than he should have with his friends. Yet, their reactions—or lack thereof—suggested otherwise. Perhaps the boy had been more discreet than Professor M had given him credit for. The professor’s sharp mind continued to analyze the situation as he addressed the class.
"You are all about to step into a world far more complex and dangerous than you could have ever imagined," he said, his voice once again filled with that unmistakable blend of authority and gravitas. "The knowledge you have gained here is both a gift and a burden. How you choose to use it will determine the future—not just of this kingdom, but of the entire world."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in.
"Remember this: strength is not measured by power alone, but by the wisdom to wield it. Do not let your newfound knowledge make you reckless. The Stalemate Act exists for a reason, and it is your duty to uphold it."
With those final words, Professor M turned to the whiteboard, where the name "Professor M" was still scrawled in blue ink. He snapped his fingers, and the chalk fell to the ground with a soft clatter.
The class remained silent as Professor M walked to the door, his footsteps echoing in the stillness. Just before leaving, he paused and turned to face the students one last time.
"I bid you all, Good luck," he said simply, his voice softer now, almost human. "You are all going to need it."
And with that, he was gone, leaving the students to ponder the immense responsibility that now rested on their shoulders.
As the door closed behind him, the classroom erupted into hushed whispers and murmurs. The once-cold atmosphere was now filled with a mixture of excitement, fear, and determination. Each student knew that their lives were about to change in ways they could not yet fully comprehend. But they also knew that they were ready—because, despite his stern demeanor and intimidating presence, Professor M had prepared them well.
Mark turned to Elizabeth, his expression serious. "What do you think?" he asked, his voice low as if he didn’t want to disturb the lingering silence in the room.
Elizabeth met his gaze, her eyes filled with determination. "I think," she began slowly, "that we have a lot more to prepare for than we ever imagined."
Mark nodded in agreement. The Star Promotion Exams loomed large in their minds now, no longer just an abstract concept but a tangible, looming challenge. As they packed up their things and filed out of the classroom, there was a new sense of purpose among them—a resolve to face whatever lay ahead with the strength and wisdom that Professor M had instilled in them.
The weight of the world rested on their shoulders, but they were ready to bear it.
