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 thod 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 experints inside the laboratory, and then aid the direction of that chair toward the currently training Fisher. She could then comfortably lie down, motionless exactly like a paralyzed patient.
rely that whenever there was anything incorrect during Fisher's training, she would raise her tail pointing and comnting at Fisher's actions.
Every morning Fisher would basically drill once under her gaze. But it seed 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 ti 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 comnts, basically whatever Fisher practiced later on she had to point and comnt.
"You human. Let 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 ti he had just demonstrated the bare-handed combat thods 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 morized; 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 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 fla."
"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 fla of that tail behind her also burned increasingly brighter following her words, right until the temperature and color of that fla 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 thods 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 sothing, 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; naly 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 fundantally did not advocate for this kind of thod; 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 thods 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 so thods 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 seed to have already tacitly acknowledged Fisher didn't discover her true identity that night. Right now although her gaze was still sowhat evasive, she at least still dared to sit in the first seat of his class.
Fisher however was thinking, if she was of the sa 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 rely 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 assignnt 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 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 assignnt 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 rely 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' assignnts. After confirming there were no omissions, he hugged the massive pile of assignnts and returned to his own office.
Inside, Roger and Serena were still flirting.
"Hey, Mr. Fisher, you've returned... Oh, you unexpectedly assigned an assignnt in the first week?"
"Yeah, roughly all just so 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 assignnt in the first week; the difficulty of this assignnt indeed wasn't large, if one properly pondered it.
"What are you chatting about?"
When Fisher ca in just now he felt the conversational sounds inside the office were quite booming. He entering instead interrupted their talking; at this ti 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 so 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 ti 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 supplented,
"However it's no matter for our magic academy. Magic curriculums also have no way of being brought into this kind of enlightennt-style classroom. Their requirent is to be interesting and conform to practicality; such as ethics, theology, and economics or whatever..."
Fisher nodded, as if also recalling so 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 ti was also at night, not occupying people's working tis.
Fisher rather wanted to go sign up to participate a bit in the Volunteer Teaching, if there was an opportunity.
Because he still rembered when he stayed in the orphanage during his childhood, the first ti 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 extrely profound for children.
Fisher still rembered the social contract argunts he spoke of at the ti. This was still the first ti 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 ti cos 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 aning 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 Parliant. In this aspect, they indeed do not bad."
Fisher smilingly agreed, returning to his own office. Sowhat distressedly he placed that huge stack of assignnts onto the small table nearby. In the end he still had no choice but to co grade their assignnts himself.
There were assignnts of roughly 50 people here. Fisher grading assignnts also liked to thoroughly read everyone's, so it ought to cost quite a bit of ti.
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 assignnts. At the office desk, Fisher coldly and sternly used a fountain pen to draw dozens of circles on an assignnt, and then graded the very first assignnt for this schoolmate.
When seeing a certain place, Fisher's expression grew a bit colder. As if having thought of sothing, he kept a previous assignnt, 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 na "Isabel" appeared that conspicuous.
Fisher didn't speak. Putting down the fountain pen used for grading assignnts, 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 co to my office a bit. Thank you."
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