Elara words hung in the air, firm enough to leave no room for argunt.
The realization settled quickly among them—
"It seems we have no choice but to accept."
"Okay! Princ—I an, Elara."
The forced correction was awkward, yet necessary, and the conversation continued without true resolution.
To Ashok, the chatter was aningless noise, draining what little patience he had left as he glanced at his watch, waiting for ti to move faster.
'If only life had an enter button I could press to skip this. The mobs annoyed even in the ga.'
He let out a slow breath, his gaze shifting toward the door.
There were still a few minutes left before class began.
And now—he could only hope that Mia arrived early, if only to cut through the dull weight of repetition.
"But why does Elara have to sit next to this guy?"
"Can we apply for a seat change with the teacher?"
"But who would sit with him? I definitely won't."
" neither."
The conversation around Elara had shifted—no longer centered on admiration, curiosity, or social pleasantries.
Instead, it had veered toward Ashok.
And the ones instigating it? Her lackeys.
Their voices rose deliberately, no longer under the tag of a whisper—they were intentional, loud enough to invite further hostility, their goal clear.
Ashok had been ignoring the noise until now, letting the unnecessary chatter pass through him like aningless static.
Yet—this was different.
His eyes flickered toward Elara, catching the faintest movent from the corner of his gaze.
She was watching him.
Her expression remained pleasant, untouched by the hostility around her—but inwardly, she smiled.
Because this? This was orchestrated.
She wanted him to interfere.
The mont he did, she would simply tell him not to intrude on their conversation.
If he felt so strongly, she would suggest he change his own seat instead.
And if things escalated, she had already warned her followers not to touch him physically, ensuring she wouldn't be blad for anything aggressive.
It was clean manipulation, a move designed to push him into action while leaving her reputation completely intact.
Ashok barely spared the surrounding voices a second thought, his irritation dissolving into detached amusent.
'What a cheap act of provocation.'
Instead of engaging, he reached into his storage ring, retrieving an item he had purchased just the day before—an item he had selected precisely for monts like these.
A pair of Magically Enchanted Earplugs.
Their description.
100% Sound Blocking with a lifeti warranty.
Under the watchful eyes of his classmates, he casually plugged them in, his movents slow, deliberate—accompanied by the faintest smirk curling his lips.
Elara, who had orchestrated this entire scenario, expecting him to react verbally, felt her fingers clench beneath the desk.
Never—not once—had she considered that he would do sothing absurd like that.
Her plan required his frustration, his retaliation—but instead, he had opted for complete and utter disregard.
And that—infuriated her.
From the first row, Gideon had been observing quietly, his gaze flickering between the two.
The mont Ashok plugged his ears, effectively cutting himself off from the nonsense, Gideon felt a quiet laugh bubble up—
"Ptfff!"
A muffled chuckle escaped him, but the instant he felt Elara's sharp glare, he turned away, pretending he had witnessed nothing at all.
Making an enemy out of the Princess wasn't worth it.
The sharp click of heels echoed through the classroom.
The students turned their heads in perfect sync, imdiately straightening in their seats as the familiar presence stepped through the doorway.
And precisely as the clock struck 8:00 A.M—
Mia entered.
Ashok, not bothering to react to the shifting atmosphere, calmly removed his earplugs, tucking them away with practiced ease.
After all—they would undoubtedly be useful again.
The classroom, once filled with scattered murmurs, settled into an orderly hush as Mia strode toward the front, her presence effortlessly commanding attention.
With a firm motion, she placed a stack of papers onto the desk, her eyes sweeping across the seated students before delivering her first instruction—
"Everyone, to your seats."
Within monts, every student was seated, awaiting further instruction.
Mia gave a slight nod of approval before continuing—
"Good morning, class."
As though trained for synchronization, the students responded in unison—
"Good morning, Teacher Mia."
Mia's sharp gaze did not waver as she addressed them again.
"Now—these are your class schedules, along with special instructions for each course this sester. morize them by heart. If you fail to follow the instructions, you will be the ones to suffer."
With a subtle flick of her wrist, the papers suddenly lifted into the air, scattering like summoned sheets before each page landed precisely in front of its intended student.
Ashok looked at his schedule
Lunor: History of the World, Mana Engineering, Hand to Hand Combat
Taren: Mind And Will Training
Wensel: Endurance Training, Mana Control Training
Therin: History Of the World, Strength and Agility Training
Frosen: Mana Control Training, Strength and Agility Training , Hand to Hand Combat
Sarnen: Mana Engineering, Endurance Training
Dareth: Survival
Ashok's eyes lingered on the Class Schedule, his mind instinctively analyzing the structure of his upcoming courses.
His fingers drumd lightly against the desk as he processed the layout.
'Lunor and Frosen are going to be tough days for .'
The combination of disciplines was heavy, requiring both physical endurance and ntal precision—a challenge he was prepared for, yet fully aware of the difficulty ahead.
Despite the vast differences in the world, Ashok couldn't ignore the similarities woven into its foundations.
'Aside from the na change, most of the things are still structured like my previous world.'
Though the nas of the months didn't exist here, the ti cycle remained familiar—each month still holding 30 days.
Instead of nas, the calendar was divided into four distinct quarters, following the rhythm of the seasons—
First Quarter: Spring
Second Quarter: Sumr
Third Quarter: Fall
Last Quarter: Winter
Today marked the second day of the Third Month of Spring—Taren.
It was also his second day after admission, and notably, one of the few days where he only had a single class.
Compared to the heavier workloads of other days, this was a mont of relative ease.
From the corner of her gaze, Elara discreetly glanced at Ashok's schedule before shifting her attention to her own.
Unlike him—who had a maximum of three classes on only two days—she had six classes nearly every day.
The only similarity between their titables lay in Taren and Dareth, where both had only one assigned lesson.
The reason was obvious.
While Ashok had selected five additional courses, Elara had taken on nine, inevitably resulting in a denser daily schedule.
Her commitnt was undeniable—but whether it was driven by ambition, expectation, or obligation was another matter entirely.
Before the comparison could linger, Mia's voice cut through the classroom, sharp and commanding—
"Everyone, pay attention over here!"
The scattered murmurs halted instantly, the air shifting as students turned their focus forward.
"If you have any questions regarding your Class Schedule, et in the Staff Room after your class."
She paused briefly before adding a strict warning, her expression remaining unreadable—
"However, do not waste my ti with foolish requests."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, reinforcing her stance—
"I will not entertain complaints about shifting a class to another day, removing an additional course, picking a new one, or questioning the special instructions of each subject."
She let her words settle before continuing, ensuring they understood the importance of their choices.
"You were given the freedom to choose when the ti was right. Now, you will follow those choices until the end of the year."
Her voice carried a hint of finality, making it clear that regret had no place in this discussion.
"And for those foolish enough to consider skipping a class they willingly picked—let remind you that your final grade at the end of the sester will be calculated based on the average of all your courses, both compulsory and additional."
The weight of her statent hung heavily in the air, pressing down on any lingering doubts.
There was no room for negotiation.
Satisfied with her instructions, Mia turned on her heels, ready to leave the room, but before she could cross the threshold—
The front gate swung open with a sudden force.
The sound reverberated through the classroom as a man stepped inside.
The classroom door swung open, revealing a man dressed in nothing more than a simple shirt and pants, his attire ordinary, yet his presence completely out of place.
His short, spiked hair added a sharpness to his already defined features, and without hesitation, he raised one hand in greeting.
"Yo! Teacher Mia, how are you—"
Before he could finish, Mia didn't so much as glance in his direction.
Her steps remained steady, her focus unwavering as she strode forward, leaving the classroom without a single response, closing the door firmly behind her.
The man sighed lightly, his shoulders relaxing as he muttered—
"As cold as ever."
Yet, rather than dwell on the rejection, he leisurely made his way toward the podium, his movents unbothered as he took in the unfamiliar faces before him.
The students, who had barely settled into their seats, imdiately began murmuring, their voices laced with curiosity.
"Who is this guy?"
"Did he just casually speak to Teacher Mia?"
The whispers grew, confusion rippling through the class.
Yet—the man didn't address them.
Instead, his expression shifted, his posture straightening as he abruptly raised his hand high into the air, gathering mana as he prepared for a far more theatrical introduction.
His voice bood, amplified with raw mana that echoed across the room—
"NOW EVERYONE—WELCO THE GREAT TEACHER, FLAKEY!!!!"
The sheer volu of his declaration was deafening, forcing many of the students to clamp their hands over their ears, wincing at the sheer force of his amplified speech.
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