Chapter 38 – The Teacher Who Does Not Teach
"Even knowledge can be buried… if the one who digs it is greed."
— Enver Eraly
The sky above the city was like a black sheet scribbled with sins. An old wall clock ticked wearily, counting wasted time in that silent classroom. No teacher's voice. No lesson. Only the empty chairs of students whose souls remained present, yet slowly turned to stone.
A teacher entered, as always, with lazy steps and the stench of cheap perfume. Textbooks untouched. Blackboard still clean. No questions, no teaching—only blank stares and bland orders:
"Just be quiet. Do whatever you want. I'm busy."
But Enver sat in the corner. No one noticed his presence. No one knew those eyes watched with a silence that killed. The Hellseer did not see the teacher's body—but the creature perched on his shoulders.
Astral Being – "Scriba"
Its form was like rotting ink, flowing from his eyes, wrapping his body like a cloak of darkness. Bald head, wide mouth torn to the ears, crammed with broken pens and burnt paper. Its body stretched like a tattered robe, and with every step, came the hiss of old chalk.
It laughed… not with a human voice, but with the creak of an un-oiled teacher's room door.
"Knowledge is no longer sacred. Here, it is mere formality…" it hissed, licking the blackboard with its paper tongue.
The students didn't know. They were silent because their souls had been licked by ignorance, carefully crafted. Silent, because they had been taught that even asking questions could be a sin.
Enver Stood…
His light was thin, yet sharp enough to cut through dimensions. The Scriba turned. Its eyes widened.
"You are not mine!" it screamed, black hands clawing at the air.
The Battle Began…
Enver raised a finger. Gentle light flowed from his body, revealing fragments of the students' frozen souls. Scriba lunged, its body transforming into a sharp pen, throwing poisoned ink like rain upon Enver.
But the man only turned slightly, and the world slowed. Each drop of ink froze in the air. He walked through the toxic storm as though strolling in the drizzle of memories.
"You are not knowledge… you are decay," whispered Enver.
Scriba swelled, becoming a multi-headed monster—each head the face of a teacher mocking their students:
"Stay quiet!"
"Just wait for the exams!"
"Teachers are human too!"
Their voices thundered, echoing against the school's spiritual walls.
Enver lifted his hand. An astral mirror appeared behind him—cracked, yet unbroken. Reflected within it were the faces of students who had lost their futures.
From his robe, he drew a card—"Card of Hollowed Knowledge."
"I did not come to judge… only to purify."
He cast the card. It struck Scriba's chest, igniting sacred symbols that burned its blackened skin. The creature screamed, but from its mouth came not sound—only exam scores. All zero.
Purificazione Began
The teacher's body froze. Time stopped around him.
Enver's eyes turned golden.
He touched the man's forehead, thrusting him into his subconscious.
There, the teacher saw himself—young, once burning with passion to teach. But slowly, he chose the easy road: bribery, neglect, scrolling on his phone during class, selling test answers, treating students as numbers, not humans.
Enver walked among these memories, lifting them one by one and casting them into spiritual fire.
"You are not evil… only forgotten. But even forgetting can become a contagious sin."
Slowly, light emerged from the teacher's body. From his chest came a dim form—the soul of knowledge long abandoned.
Enver took it, placing it back into his chest, replacing the monster that melted like scorched ink. Scriba vanished, exploding into a whirl of ancient symbols.
The blackboard finally shone, engraved with a single line of light:
"Knowledge is not to be hoarded… but to be shared."
The Classroom Fell Silent…
Enver was gone. No trace. No sound.
But the students slowly awoke, and in the days to come… the teacher arrived earlier, carrying books, and asked:
"Today… what do you wish to know?"
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