(Miabi POV)
Curse.
When one thought of this word, the first thing that mostly came into their mind was a form of great misfortune, a prayer or invocation for harm or injury to come upon them.
While this was undoubtedly true, a curse was not limited to that, offering different kinds of applications that suited the needs of its user.
If one could see the bigger picture, a curse was also capable of light amidst its clearly dark intentions.
For instance, there was a time when a curse was needed to get rid of a person's fatal condition that cannot be cured by conventional means. Thus, a particular kind of curse was employed to seal that person's illness, enabling them to be at perfectly good health again, a curse for a curse I presumed.
In short, a curse was like every other tool, capable of both good and bad, depending on how a Mage utilized it. One was an ignorant fool if they thought that a curse was only capable of the latter.
Well, I supposed that they are not really to blame for such a perspective, given that the stigma of the associated word had been circulating for countless years as per history dictated.
And it did not help that a curse was usually operated in the name of depravity, used by Dark Mages for the advancement of their debased desires.
Well, even when I'm one, a Dark Mage that is, I'll not go so far as to call my desires debased. It was simply for the purpose of advancing my magic like every other Mage would have wanted.
Fufu, and Ken Bruce, the Magus of Infinity, shall be another fine guinea pig in this experiment of mine.
Ah, oh I can hardly wait for the clock to strike at midnight, where everything shall begin once more.
Hmm, perhaps I shall also play around his precious backside as what he initially feared? Well, it was his fault for mentioning it in the first place.
What a funny man that he really was.
Fufufu, and I was not lying when I said that his ass was rather appealing too.
His infinity booty was also something that I look forward to.
Regarding how I'm going to take care of things for tonight to go on without any problems, let's just say that I'll ask someone to do the deed for me, with some part coming from me as well.
Nothing too drastic though. I don't want Ken Bruce to lose his confidence in me after all, given that we are classmates.
(Ken POV)
Class resumed once more, and this time, it was our homeroom instructor who came in to teach us about the next lesson.
Barging right in was a middle-aged man, with messy black hair, unkempt stubble, and eyes of the same color. While the instructors usually were donned in their formal robes to display their authority over the student body, this man instead was dressed in a gray blazer with its long-sleeves neatly folded, a violet v-neck polo shirt that exposed the silver cross necklace on his neck, black pants, brown leather belt with pouches, and brown combat boots.
The man looked like someone who just got out from a tavern brawl. And the flask that he was holding that contained the alcoholic beverage that he usually drank even here in class, was not helping his case at all.
One look at him, and no one would ever think that he's a bonafide Mage, not to mention, a freaking instructor here at the prestigious Moonlight Magi Academy.
We could literally smell the piss and alcohol even from a signficant distance between our seats and the instructor's spot in front at where he currently stand.
When he introduced us shortly during last week upon Ana and I's first arrival, our first impression of him was that of a drunken homeless bastard who lost his way from the local tavern.
Let's see, his name was Paul Travis, homeroom instructor of class of 1-S, and certified alcohol expert.
Seriously, was the chibi Headmaster on drugs when he fucking hired this guy?
I knew that looks can be deceiving but was it really necessary to be drunk especially when you're teaching young students in class!?
"Teacher, you're drunk again. Why don't you sober up first before proceeding in your lesson?"
It was Nora, thankfully not in her crazy state, who berated our instructor with a concerned and gentle voice.
Paul dismissed the girl's worry and gave us an assuring smile.
"Heh, even when intoxicated, I am more than capable of still educating you kids, *Hick*"
While that declaration was cool and all, the hick in the end plummeted all of that to the ground. We simply all eyed him like he was a maniac who lost his mind.
To his credit, Paul ignored our judgmental gazes and proceeded like it was nothing to him.
"Alright then, kiddies, let's begin with our lesson for the day. Today I'm going to teach you something that's kind of out of the norm that some of my colleagues don't even bother to teach."
He then began writing on the blackboard while discussing the subject matter. Even when drunk, the man's penmanship was actually neat and we could read it very clearly. Perhaps he was not lying when he said that he can teach us while drunk.
That takes real willpower, I have to admit.
"Now while knowledge of powerful spells is what commonly signifies a Mage's overall strength, no amount of spell power is going to mean shit when the enemy gets a heads up and managed to stab you with a pointy weapon. A Mage's arrogance is usually their downfall, thinking that they are the more superior ones just because they can cast an explosive spell or two. This is most especially the case when facing a non-Mage opponent, in a traditional sense at least, like a Warrior, Knight, or in worst cases... an Assassin."
The last word was uttered with immense contempt by him.
We listened intently as he took his spot in front of his table and sat at it as if he owned the whole place.
And for some reason, the last word also brought a great chill to my very core. Grandpa did mention that Assassins were immensely feared due to the fact that they can murder you before you can even react. Their specialty was the art of silent killing and assassination techniques. Mages abhor their existence because of their sneaky and devious nature.
The two of them were like natural enemies, and a Mage can do very little once they were caught by an Assassin's schemes, usually resulting in a dagger being used to slit their throat.
Assassins were simply the worst, and even Knights like Robert despised them as well.
Paul continued with his lesson as he said.
"Now, in this course, what I'll be teaching you are ways to counter them once you are caught in a pinch, or if you prefer, you may also use it as your main tactic in defeating your foe. In short, the old-school yet still effective wonders of physical combat, where you are going to incorporate your unique magic as well into it to form a deadly combination unlike any other."
With his magic, Paul then banished the alcohol flask that he was holding and took out a cigar and lighter from his pocket. Disregarding our presence inside, he lighted the cigar and smoked in leisure.
While the premise of this subject was good and I completely agreed with him since it never hurt to have more stuff inside your bag of tricks, I still could not help but be utterly annoyed at all of this.
I came here to this academy to learn magic...MAGIC!! Not to relive my days again filled with grueling exercises, military drills, physical combat regime, or any of that!!!
I've had enough of that shit already during my training with grandpa ever since I was a kid.
Really, and here I thought that the life of a Knight was finally over for me, but it appeared that I was dead wrong.
Once a Knight, always a Knight?
Fuck that, I was never officially one, that saying does not apply to me.
Nevertheless, while I found the notion irritable, it was still a necessary sacrifice for the sake of emerging victorious in a fight. In my opinion, A Mage should not be limited to his own spells and also needed to be creative by using every means necessary to achieve their goal.
Thus, I opted to not share my selfish view about the whole matter since my other classmates most likely needed this training badly. Heck, my seatmate Phil looked pretty frail with that small body and shaky arm of his, and I could probably beat him up with just one hand, assuming no magic was involved.
My classmates were simply silenced as they appeared to be convinced with Paul's reasoning. But that does not mean that they look forward to this type of unorthodox lesson here at a magic academy. At least, they somewhat shared my sentiment regarding the last matter.
After he was done smoking, a cocky smirk formed on Paul's face and made his loud declaration to us all.
"And that my students are what basically we are going to do for the majority of this semester, in my class at least. I bid you all welcome to Combat Magic 101. The real world out there is unforgiving and harsh. It won't hesitate to eat you alive the moment when you let your guard down. I won't teach you how to be a Mage or even a single spell. Hell, I won't even teach you how to be a Hero or any of that selfless martyr crap."
Then, what are you supposed to be teaching us then???!!!!
He took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling his final smoke. He then asserted the words with a grave expression that would serve as our life lesson for the future days to come.
At that point, he appeared to be now sober as he said-
"What I'll teach you... is how to survive."