After yesterday's early encounter with Ariel, and learning things about Nagi that were never mentioned in the novel, my day started with...
"Who among you can weave magic?" Medley asked.
Almost everyone in the classroom raised their hand.
Almost everyone except me.
My day began with humiliation.....
Medley nodded, then his gaze drifted across the room until it settled on me. His eyes lingered for a moment before he spoke again.
"Who among you can transmute your thrum?"
Once again, nearly every hand went up.
Medley's stare sharpened.
I remained silent and still did not raise my hand.
What does this old man even want from me? Does he not realize this is basically a public execution by humiliation?
He asked another question.
"And who among you has mastered the external release of thrum?"
A few students murmured among themselves, confused as to why Professor Medley was asking something so basic.
Damn it.
I snapped my pen in half.
This old fart… Well, technically, I can perform external thrum release now. Mastering it, on the other hand, is another story. Still, I figured I should at least show some face here.
I raised my hand.
Medley's stern expression eased slightly when he saw it.
I heard a light giggle from my left, but I really did not want to look. Seeing her smug face would only make this even more embarrassing.
"Hm. Hm," Medley said. "As expected of Class 1-A. You all possess exceptional knowledge and experience in what it is to be a weaver."
He tapped his cane once.
"But what exactly is a weaver? An occupation? A status? An awakened individual?"
He shook his head sharply.
"No. A weaver is superiority itself."
I pulled out a new pen from my coat, spun it between my fingers, and muttered sarcastically, "Well, that's insightful."
"Precisely, young boy at the back!"
I froze.
"That," Medley continued proudly, "is the most insightful way to view what a weaver truly is. People these days believe even half-baked peasants can become weavers. Such thinking does nothing but tarnish Salem's legacy as the cradle of the greatest weavers in history."
A few students shifted uncomfortably.
"A true weaver," Medley said, voice firm, "is a ruler. Just as you command thrum to obey your will, so too must you command those beneath you. And at present, you unpolished gems are under my dominion."
He smiled, sharp and confident.
"I will shape you into the greatest weavers this world has ever known."
I rested my chin on my hand and nodded slightly.
Yes. This was Medley Ocypete in essence. Rude, elitist, and arrogant- but undeniably a good professor. He pushed those below to catch up and forced those above to shatter their limits.
"Ahem. Now then," Medley said. "Where were we? Ah, yes. Weavers."
He scanned the room.
"Philosophy aside, does anyone wish to give a scientific definition of what a weaver is?"
Hands shot up across the room. Waffel's arm was practically raised high enough to block Medley's view entirely, but he ignored her.
Instead, he pointed toward the back.
"You. Stand up and name yourself."
Of course.
So the tradition of back-row students being singled out exists in this world, too, huh?
What a drag.
I stood and bowed slightly.
"Good morning, Sir Medley. My name is Matthew. Matthew Pier Salinin."
"Very well, Student Salinin," Medley said. "Define what a weaver is."
"Weavers are awakened beings capable of shaping, storing, expelling, transmuting, and manipulating thrum."
"A textbook answer," Medley said. "But if a weaver awakens missing even one of those abilities, can they still be called a weaver?"
I shook my head slowly, then spoke firmly.
"No."
A smile crept onto Medley's face.
"Oh? Fascinating. Did you know you would be hanged for saying that in certain kingdoms?"
"That is only because they refuse to acknowledge the absolute truth of this world."
"Hm." Medley nodded. "And what is this absolute truth you speak of?"
"The Status Panel."
"A stellar answer!" Medley declared. "Three merit points to you."
He gestured toward my seat with his cane.
"You may sit down, Student Salinin."
He tapped his cane once and continued.
"That is precisely what Student Salinin said. Other kingdoms may be satisfied calling someone a weaver the moment they awaken and manage to form a core. But in Salem, we value truth and logic above shallow labels."
His eyes swept the room.
"The moment you lack even one of the essential functions, the system panel you receive upon forming your core will show you the truth. If the second line does not appear and instead skips directly to your race, then by definition, you are not a weaver."
I muttered under my breath.
"…Status window."
_________________________________
〈 STATUS PANEL 〉
Name: Matthew Pier Salinin
Weaver: Conceptual Astute Weaver
Race: Human (Stabilized)
Core: Blue
Potential: SS
_________________________________
A transparent screen appeared in front of me.
I checked the second line. That was likely what he meant.
The Weaver classification itself.
Half-baked weavers, as both the novel and this world described them, were never given much importance. They existed, sure, but they were never plot-relevant.
"But enough about them," Medley said, waving a hand dismissively. "Let us move on to today's topic."
Magic.
He created pressure in his palm, and a sudden gust burst outward, sending several students' papers fluttering into the air.
"This is basic wind magic. Gale," he said casually. "I transmute the thrum stored in my core, expel it, and the result is a tier-one spell."
He looked around.
"Now tell me. Why is it common practice to transmute thrum inside the body before releasing it? Wouldn't it make no difference if you expelled it first and transmuted it afterward?"
Waffel's hand shot up instantly.
Medley sighed, already defeated by her persistence.
"…Student Waffel, if I recall correctly."
"Yes! I am honored you remember me, Professor Medley," she said gleefully.
"Enough pleasantries," he replied. "Answer."
"Yes, Professor!" Waffel straightened, words tumbling out eagerly.
"It is because of the Personal Proximity Influence Theory by Adler Grahams. The theory states that the farther an object is from the weaver, the more effort is required to influence it. It also explains why stronger weavers naturally possess wider areas of control."
She barely paused for breath.
"This theory was proven during the studies of 20XX, which further showed that-"
"That will do," Medley cut her off. "You may sit."
Waffel slumped back into her seat, clearly disappointed she did not get to continue.
Medley turned back to us, cane resting lightly in his hand.
"Now then," he said. "What student Waffel said was spot on."
He extended his palm forward. A thin mist of thrum was expelled from his hand, and a moment later, the same Gale formed in midair several steps away from him, right where his palm was facing.
"Like this," Medley continued, "you can transmute thrum externally. However, the difficulty increases drastically."
The wind dispersed.
"But we are skipping a few steps here. Just because you are Class 1-A does not mean we ignore the fundamentals."
He tapped his cane once.
"Let us return to transmutation. How does a weaver know which element they can transmute most effectively?"
Waffel's hand was already halfway up again, but Medley noticed and answered before she could speak.
"It is most often determined by your core color."
Waffel slumped down with an audible sound of defeat.
Medley continued as if nothing had happened.
"For example… you, Your Highness-"
Maku and Solaris both stood up.
Medley paused, then cleared his throat.
"A habit from my earlier years," he said dryly. "I was referring to Student Solaris."
Finster burst into quiet giggles. The moment Maku sat back down, he stomped hard on Finster's foot.
"YOEHCH!!"
"Is something the matter, youngster?" Medley asked without turning.
"N-No… nothing at all, Professor," Finster replied quickly, shooting Maku a fierce glare.
Medley's attention returned to Solaris.
This time, he addressed her not as royalty, but as a student. After all, in Excellia, there was no such thing as status. Only professors and students.
"Student Solaris," he said, "you are free to refuse to answer if you wish, but what is your magic specialty?"
"Ice magic," she replied, detached as ever.
"And why did you choose to specialize in ice magic?"
"Because of the characteristics of my core," she said calmly, "and my bloodline ability."
Medley nodded. "Bloodline abilities aside, you are again free to refuse, but what are the characteristics of your core?"
"Blue. Compression," Solaris answered. "It allows my ice constructs to form more easily and become much tougher."
"Thank you. You may now sit."
Solaris did so without another word.
"Just as Student Solaris demonstrated," Medley continued, "this is a perfect example of making use of your core's natural properties when choosing how to transmute your thrum."
He swept his gaze across the room.
"Of course, one may choose to be creative and select an element that does not naturally align with their core. But creativity does not necessarily mean effectiveness."
Riiiiiiiing!!!
The bell rang.
"Hm," Medley hummed. "I would have liked to discuss other core colors and their properties, but we will leave it here."
He turned toward the door.
"Prepare yourselves for a practical quiz next week. Class dismissed."