The lecture hall of the Nousporism school was filled with the subtle atmosphere that follows midterm exams.
The air seemed to still carry the scent of printer's ink and the lingering resentment of some students.
Professor Anaxa stood at the podium, his sharp gaze first sweeping over Phaethon with a glare, before settling on Phainon, as if weighing which of the two to eviscerate first for maximum satisfaction.
"Truly... unexpected," Anaxa's voice was icy, shattering the hall's silence.
"A student whose mind wanders in my class, who takes fewer notes than a waiter jotting down orders in a restaurant," his eyes shot lightning towards Phaethon,
"Yet his midterm paper reads like a meticulously crafted academic thesis, with a score so high it made me doubt I'd marked the wrong paper."
Anaxa paused, his gaze shifting to Phainon, a cold smirk twisting his lips.
"As for the other one—the one who has interrupted my lectures more times this semester than everyone else combined, who nearly failed the course from deducted points, somehow managed to utterly silence those dogmatic old fossils from the Venerationism school at the Grove Union Debate and brought back a first-place trophy for Nousporism?"
"*Heh...*" A barely suppressed giggle escaped from Castorice's direction, her violet eyes crinkling into crescent moons.
Seeming to realize her lapse, she quickly covered her mouth, her quill pretending to take notes by doodling circles on her paper.
A vein throbbed at Anaxa's temple, his eyes darting a glance towards Castorice.
Seeing this, Hyacine promptly spoke up, her voice clear and soothing. "Professor, we should begin today's lesson. The students are waiting."
She skillfully cut off Anaxa's impending sarcasm.
"Tch..." Anaxa clicked his tongue in extreme displeasure but ultimately swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.
He took a deep breath, regained his stern expression, and began the day's lecture. "Today, I will teach: 'On the Rationality of Titan Miracles Throughout Past Ages.'"
He turned and wrote several key terms on the blackboard, his handwriting forceful and strong.
"Throughout the recorded history of Amphoreus, the existence of the Titans has been like undying stars, their mighty power and miracles repeatedly extolled."
He spun around sharply, his gaze sweeping the room with intense skepticism. "However—what is the core of our Nousporism school? Blind worship? Unquestioning acceptance? No! It is doubt! It is dissection! It is using the blade of logic to peel away the historical flesh beneath the mythological veneer!
"Those Titan miracles held as sacred canon—moving mountains and filling seas, creating life, even reversing time—under the material conditions of their time, the conservation of energy, and within our current understanding and framework of the Black Tide... how rational are they, truly?
"Are they indisputable historical facts, or fantasies layered on by later generations out of awe, fear, or political necessity?"
The lecture hall was silent, save for the soft scratching of quills on paper.
Anaxa cited classics and historical texts, pointing out contradictions in ancient records, estimating energy scales, highlighting the lack of records from contemporaneous civilizations. Layer by layer, he dissected the seemingly unshakeable legends of Titan miracles, holding them under the scorching lens of reason and logic.
Time passed in the heat of fierce intellectual debate.
As the lesson neared its end, just after Anaxa had used a series of sharp questions and a tight logical chain to once again "pin" Phainon—who had attempted to challenge him only to end up in a logical dead end—back into his seat...
Another hand went up. This time, it was Phaethon's. "Teacher Anaxa..."
Anaxa's brow instantly furrowed into a deep scowl, the vein at his temple beginning to throb again.
He stared at Phaethon, his tone brimming with impatience. "Phaethon! First, do not call me 'Anaxa'! Call me 'Anaxagoras'!
"Second, if you aren't, like your reckless brother, trying to interrupt my train of thought with illogical nonsense, and wish to speak in my class, just speak—there is no need to raise your hand!"
"*Pfft...*" Castorice couldn't hold back another soft laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly this time.
But Phaethon acted as if he hadn't heard Anaxa's roar or Castorice's laughter. He lowered his hand, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. "Alright, Teacher Anaxa. Understood, Teacher Anaxa."
"But the question I wish to ask is not meant to challenge your brilliant argument just now. Rather, it stems from an extension of thought regarding 'perspective' within the framework of 'rationality' you proposed."
He paused, successfully capturing the attention of everyone, including Anaxa, who was still seething over the first part of his sentence.
"You just analyzed the 'irrationality' of Titan miracles under the conditions of 'their time'. So, if we shift our perspective—
"Take some beings from our own era... for example, those 'Demi-god' level powerhouses," he emphasized the word 'Demi-god', "who possess abilities like discerning hearts, near-immortality, or instantly traversing mountains and seas..."
"Suppose they were sent back, by some means, to those epochs in history books we define as 'ignorant' or 'unenlightened'..."
Phaethon's gaze locked directly with Anaxa's eyes as he posed his question:
"What, essentially, is the difference between them and the 'Titans' recorded in the history books?
"Would the primitive humans of that era, witnessing their 'miracles'... similarly... revere them as—'Titans'?"
(Phaethon: *If Lady Aglaea traveled to the past, would she become the Titan of Reason in The Grove?*
Anaxa: *Now that would be quite the life...*)
"*Huum—!*"
The air in the entire lecture hall seemed to freeze solid! Hyacine covered her mouth, Castorice's quill *clattered* onto the desk, Phainon's head jerked up, his eyes blazing with disbelief, and the other students were utterly dumbstruck!
And Professor Anaxa on the podium looked as if struck by an invisible bolt of lightning!
The rage and impatience on his face vanished instantly, replaced by sheer, utter shock, followed by a look of ecstatic discovery, as if he'd found a rare treasure, and... deep contemplation!
His pupils contracted sharply, locked firmly onto Phaethon.
Anaxa stood rigidly in place, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of the podium, his entire being swallowed by the vast, shocking, yet infinitely possible thought experiment Phaethon had constructed.
Second by second, the hall remained terrifyingly quiet, broken only by Anaxa's slightly ragged breathing.
A full minute passed. "Professor?" Hyacine cautiously reminded him, her voice soft as a feather. "We are... still in class."
Anaxa jolted back to awareness, his gaze refocusing. He looked at Phaethon deeply, once, then again—a look too complex to describe. There was shock, appreciation, inquiry, and even a trace of... gratitude?