Chapter 120: 56. Volunteer Teaching
These days, Fisher has been training in the laboratory with Eil. She documented the combat techniques in a thin booklet and even drew little stick figures representing Fisher to help him understand the actions.
After physical training, Fisher practiced each technique from the booklet and demonstrated it to Eil.
“Well, your speed is not fast enough, and your strength is not correctly applied. Unarmed combat is the first step and also the last step of learning to fight. A true warrior always meets their end in combat, dying unarmed. You lack the will to fight. Rationality is, of course, necessary, but it is also essential to let your instincts guide your combat.”
Eil certainly knows how to enjoy herself; she dragged a lounge chair used for experiments into the laboratory and positioned it to face Fisher, allowing her to lie back comfortably, motionless like a paralyzed patient.
However, whenever there was something wrong with Fisher’s training, she would raise her tail and point out his mistakes.
Every morning, Fisher would practice once under her watch. However, progress seemed slow, and after watching him for a while, Eil would disappointingly lay down to sleep, showing no interest in him.
Since childhood, this was the first time Fisher had encountered something so difficult to master.
Fisher had some doubts about this routine-based approach; he did not understand how these techniques were applied in real combat.
Within a few days, apart from the initial training where Eil made no comments, Fisher found that she had to point out mistakes in everything he tried afterward.
“You human, let me ask you, what do you think is the most important thing in combat?”
On Monday morning, Eil finally couldn’t sit still and got up, pointing towards Fisher in the courtyard.
At that moment, he had just demonstrated the unarmed combat method she taught him, and she suddenly interrupted his movements, asking that question.
Fisher thought for a moment and replied, “Physical strength and combat skills?”
“How superficial, human.”
Eil sighed, then raised a finger. “The most important thing in combat is the unique will of a warrior. Those without the warrior’s spirit will exhibit different results in battle. You treat all my teachings like formulas and techniques that need to be memorized; how can you possibly use them?”
“Well, you should be one of the more thoughtful humans, but if you want to learn combat, you need to change your thinking. The so-called warrior’s spirit is what distinguishes individuals from those lost in relentless fear. It grants you primal courage and the strength to survive dire situations, just like an eternally burning flame.”
“Although it might be asking too much to help you understand this at first, I will show you how it is specifically applied.”
With that, Eil’s expression turned serious. The flame on her tail grew fiercer as she spoke, until its temperature and color were as deep as the magma of the earth. She gently raised her hand to make a starting gesture directed at Fisher, who was right in front of her.
The breeze ceased at that moment; in front of her, the atmosphere slowly became hot and suffocating, and a fear and chill of being hunted crept from the depths of the soul.
But the next second, Eil did not throw that punch. Instead, she lazily yawned and lay back down in her lounge chair, weakly waving her tail at Fisher as if to dismiss him.
“This is probably how it is. You figure it out for yourself; if you can’t learn it, there’s nothing I can do.”
Fisher slowly pulled himself away from the pressure of that demon’s aura. He thought for a second or two, feeling as if he grasped something, yet it seemed he hadn’t learned anything.
If there were rankings for teachers, Eil would definitely take the last place; she would be the founding member of the “slack-off teaching” school, where the ability to learn depended entirely on the student’s talent. If Fisher hadn’t had a hard time finding a suitable combat teacher lately, he would never have chosen her.
Fisher practiced a bit longer and gradually discovered the problems. When training, he was always focused on calculating power, filling his mind with calculations, thinking about whether each technique would be useful.
Perhaps Eil didn’t advocate this kind of approach; she favored the guiding of momentum and instincts?
It might also be that combat training is vastly different from ordinary practice of magic.
In any case, by the time Monday came for classes, Fisher’s progress in combat techniques was slow. His techniques handbook only recorded basic moves like “tackle,” “punches,” and similar techniques, along with some methods for using weapons, leaving Fisher completely baffled.
The classroom on Monday morning was as usual; Fisher taught first-year students, with Jasmine and Isabel sitting in the front row.
Jasmine seemed to have accepted that Fisher did not discover her true identity that night. While her gaze still wandered, she at least dared to sit in the first seat of her own class.
Fisher was thinking that if she was from the same race as the Child of the Sea, could she possibly be one of them? And as a member of the Whale Folk, what was her purpose in human society? Was it merely to attend university to learn things?
Then why did she climb over the wall that night?
Fisher’s mind was multitasking, explaining simple magical knowledge while simultaneously pondering the events of that night and considering how to quietly investigate the secret of this Whale Folk.
“Alright, today’s class ends here. I hope you have submitted the assignments I left for you last week to my office email. After this class, any late submissions will be considered invalid. If you have any questions, come to my office. Class dismissed.”
Fisher glanced at Jasmine in the front row, noticing she was still taking class notes and didn’t look towards him, so he didn’t realize he was watching her.
No student seemed to have any issues with the assignments, so he picked up his belongings and left the classroom for his office.
The teachers’ exclusive mailboxes were located in front of each college’s office building, and other colleges had several rows of mailboxes. However, the Magic Academy had only four; Fisher’s was on the far left.
He took out his key to open the mailbox, which contained a huge stack of student assignments. After confirming that there were no missing submissions, he carried the large pile back to his office.
Inside, Roger and Selina were still flirting.
“Hey, Mr. Fisher, you’re back. Oh, you actually assigned homework in the first week?”
“Yes, mostly some basic exercises.”
Fortunately, there weren’t any of Fisher’s students here; otherwise, they would have been really upset about having homework in the first week. The difficulty of the assignment wasn’t high if one thought it through carefully.
“What were you two talking about?”
As Fisher entered, he sensed the lively conversation in the office, and his arrival interrupted their discussion. At that moment, Fisher spoke up, reigniting the extinguished topic.
Roger replied with a smile, “Oh, it’s like this: our school has recently taken on a volunteer teaching initiative for two blocks, recruiting professors to give engaging lessons to the residents of Saint Nali.”
“The professors are well-paid, funded by the church. You know, the church does this kind of thing every year, but in the past, it was always monopolized by the Royal Academy. This time our school has even gotten two large blocks.”
Selina, being the first to get this kind of information, excitedly added, “But we in the Magic Academy don’t have anything to do with it; magic courses can’t really fit into this kind of introductory classroom. Their requirements are for fun and practical courses, like Ethics, Theology, and Economics.”
Fisher nodded, as if recalling something from the past.
Every year, the church in Saint Nali spends their money hiring teachers from various schools to teach in the neighborhood church. The attendees don’t need to pay and even receive cookies and desserts from the church.
Anyone can join the class since it’s free, and it takes place in the evening, not interfering with people’s work hours.
Fisher actually wanted to sign up for the volunteer teaching if given the chance.
He remembered that when he stayed in the orphanage as a child, the first time he was exposed to knowledge was during a volunteer lesson at the neighborhood church. The professor was Professor Amaselle from the Royal Academy, teaching Ethics, a field that was quite profound for children.
Fisher still remembered the social contract theory he lectured on, which was the first time he encountered such a novel viewpoint. This ignited his desire for learning as a child, leading him to desperately compete for a spot to enter the church school the following year, then onto the municipal college, the Royal Academy, and now here.
Thus, Fisher asked them about the volunteer teaching initiative, saying, “Who is in charge of this? I’ll go ask them later.”
Selina looked at Fisher in surprise and instinctively replied, “It’s the academic affairs office… but they probably won’t offer magic classes this year…”
“Hey, Selina, did you forget Mr. Fisher has three degrees?”
Compared to Selina, Roger clearly knew more about Fisher. He smiled and raised his coffee to remind Selina, making her flush as she shot him a glare, not understanding the exact implications, which made Roger laugh.
“This is a good thing, both publicly and privately. It’s precisely because the church invests so much money in this each year that their reputation is better than that of Parliament. In this respect, they really do a good job.”
Fisher agreed with a smile, returned to his office, and somewhat frustratedly placed the large stack of assignments on a small table nearby, ultimately having to grade them himself.
There were probably 50 assignments here, and since Fisher liked to read each one in detail when grading, it would take quite some time.
However, since he had no pressing matters, he decided to stay at school in the afternoon to handle some work and also call the academic affairs office to discuss his volunteer teaching application.
Throughout the afternoon, Fisher read and graded assignments. At his desk, he coldly drew dozens of circles with his fountain pen on one assignment and then graded it for the student’s first submission.
At one point, Fisher’s expression turned cold as he seemed to remember something. He kept the previous assignment for comparison and then marked the score of the latter one down to zero, making the name “Isabel” stand out next to that score of zero.
Fisher said nothing, placed his graded assignments down, and dialed the phone for the resident students.
“Hello, this is Fisher Benavides from the Magic Academy. Please notify first-year students Jasmine and Isabel to come to my office. Thank you.”
Please vote, tip, and support; it is very important to me.
Thank you very much for your support!
(End of Chapter)
