Zaroth's head still hurt because of the hangover, but despite that, he focused as much as he could, trying to absorb as much information as possible.
Thankfully, unlike the other teachers, this one seemed to be able to convey information quite effectively and didn't need to waste an hour explaining basic things over and over again.
"So, in summary," she said, raising her voice enough so even the people in the back, like Zaroth, could hear. She continued.
"There are thousands of known classes and hundreds of known gods, so predicting the abilities of a person just by knowing one of them is almost impossible."
She adjusted her glasses before continuing. "For instance, you know the class Bard, right? Many would assume it's a weak class that uses music to boost morale or buff allies, and you would be correct… if you don't take the gods' blessings into account."
Her eyes darkened for a moment, almost like recalling a horrific memory.
"The Bards make use of music to produce their abilities. Do you know why this could be extremely dangerous?" she asked.
After a moment of silence, a timid-looking boy with glasses stood up, trying to answer.
"Because potential attacks are hard to dodge?"
The teacher smiled before replying, "No, because unless you have a special combination of class and a god's blessing, it's impossible to dodge.
Music travels through the air, right? And we all breathe air to survive… Imagine an enemy that, just by playing a flute, makes every single one of your friends… loved ones… collapse on the ground, lifeless… dead… without any explanation or reason.
This is what happens when you underestimate an individual."
The atmosphere of the room became dark and grim, but Zaroth, unaware—or just not caring—raised his voice, asking,
"So you've fought a battle against such an individual?"
The short woman, surprised by the question, met his gaze, unmoving, neither denying nor confirming his guess.
And yet, he asked, "How did you win such a battle?"
Some students turned back to see who asked the question, only to be irritated when they saw the white-haired man with green cat-like eyes. But probably because everyone present in the lesson was curious, everyone held their breath, awaiting the answer of their teacher.
"What is your name, student?" she asked.
"Zaroth," he answered immediately.
Unseen by anyone, Zack, who was sitting in the front, smiled slightly at the question his friend had asked.
The woman sighed before answering.
"Zaroth… all of you, this is the most important lesson you will learn today… maybe in your entire lives."
She said, her gaze turning from a friendly teacher to one that looked like a seasoned fighter, ready to kill the foe before her.
"There are battles you cannot win. In that case, you have to run, sacrificing everything dear to your heart, with only one thing in your mind—the most important thing you should cherish before all else,
Your life."
*****
Zaroth was not disappointed in the class. No, he was even impressed. He had learned a lot about how deadly the right combination of class and a god's blessing could be.
He was even surprised to learn that, depending on the blessing, a healer could turn into a deadly foe. Instead of using holy light to heal the wounded, they could use some kind of menacing energy to make their enemy's skin and muscles rot.
"Huh… this sounds like the god that put a curse on my mother," he muttered under his breath.
"Did you say something?" Zack asked, he was currently standing close to Zaroth because he had an unexpected problem...
Yesterday, he ran 25 kilometers, and today he did the same, so after sitting in his seat for more than an hour, he could barely move his legs.
"Yeah, how the heck am I supposed to participate in the live combat practice now?" he asked.
Zack raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you just go to a healer who can heal your fatigue and hangover?"
"YOU CAN DO THAT?" Zaroth shouted in surprise. "Why the heck didn't you say so earlier?!"
Zack scratched the back of his head before answering with a smile, "Because you didn't ask?"
"OH FOR FU— just lead the way!" Zaroth cried, using Zack for support.
"Sure, sure."
Soon after, Zaroth found himself in a dimly lit room that smelled like nicotine.
"Who are you, and why are you here?" a blonde woman with dark circles under her eyes, probably due to overworking, asked, holding a lit cigarette in her left hand.
"My legs are sore from overtraining… and I have a hangover."
Upon hearing that, the woman burst into laughter. "Oh gods! You got drunk on your first day in the academy?"
After she calmed down, she stood up from her seat. "Seeing your uniform, I can guess you're from A-class. So you have the right to up to three healings a month. After that, you'll have to pay five credits every time you want to be healed."
After she finished speaking, a flower began to grow exponentially quickly behind him. It was made of some kind of green energy and was glowing. After a second, spores began to fall from it down to Zaroth's body.
In the next second, it was gone, and Zaroth felt like he had slept nine hours the previous night.
"Wow, thanks! You guys are really lifesavers," Zaroth said with a smile as he stood up, stretching his legs and finding it hard to believe the pain was gone so quickly.
The woman smiled before replying, "Finally, someone who recognizes the value of healers!"
Now that he could walk again, he and Zack went to the training room where they were supposed to take part in the Live Combat Practice. Being a little late, they managed to enter without attracting attention.
Only to be surprised to see that they weren't the only class there; there was a portion of B-class as well.
Zaroth scanned the room of students until his eyes stopped on a couple that was standing a bit behind the rest—Lily and Roran.
He smiled as he looked at them and shifted his gaze to Zack, who was smiling as well. They were most likely thinking the same thing.
'Today, I get to see how strong these two really are!'