The yearly administrative meeting had become one of the most important events on the university's calendar. It was during these meetings that every department head gathered to discuss the previous academic year, prepare for the next one, and identify problems before they could develop into larger issues. Since the arrival of the System, those meetings had become significantly longer than they used to be, as education itself had been forced to evolve at an unprecedented pace. Entirely new disciplines had appeared almost overnight, and universities across Europe were still adapting to the demands of a world where monsters, mana, and adventurers had become part of everyday life.
"How are the curriculum changes progressing?" Sjaak Slootman asked as he looked around the conference table.
As the Head Dean, it was his responsibility to ensure that every faculty continued moving in the same direction despite the enormous reforms taking place throughout higher education. The coming academic year would introduce yet another wave of changes, and he wanted to know whether any departments expected difficulties before students returned to campus. Solving problems before they became crises had always been one of his greatest strengths.
The conference room itself was surprisingly ordinary despite the importance of the meeting taking place inside it. It lacked the grandeur one might expect from one of the Netherlands' oldest universities, consisting instead of a spacious room furnished with practical tables, comfortable chairs, and several large holographic displays covering one wall. The room had been modernized countless times over the centuries, leaving very little evidence of the institution's long history. Only a handful of old portraits hanging quietly against the walls hinted at the generations of scholars who had once gathered there.
Although many foreigners regarded Leiden University as ancient, Europeans often viewed its history from a different perspective. Founded in 1550 after the city of Leiden was granted the right to establish a university in recognition of its resistance during the Eighty Years' War, it certainly possessed centuries of academic tradition. Yet compared to several universities elsewhere in Europe whose histories stretched back even further, Leiden was often considered relatively young. Even so, few institutions had adapted to the new age as successfully as it had.
"Overall, the transition has been progressing quite well," Floortje Wenink replied after briefly reviewing the notes in front of her. "The changes have certainly been rapid, but the administrative frameworks we developed over the past several years have made implementing new programs much easier than we originally expected."
She spoke with the calm confidence expected from someone who had spent years managing one of the university's largest departments. Before the arrival of the System, Floortje had overseen both the Legal Studies and Security faculties, but the dramatic changes brought by humanity's new reality had forced the university to reorganize. Security had expanded into an independent department, allowing each faculty to specialize far more effectively.
Sjaak nodded with visible satisfaction.
"Good. Although, I think you're being a little too modest," he said with a small smile. "The amount of work every department has accomplished over the last few years has been remarkable. Few universities have managed to adapt as quickly as we have, and I'm genuinely proud of everything this institution has achieved."
His praise was not empty encouragement. Every department represented in the room had been forced to redesign decades, and sometimes centuries, of educational material in only a handful of years. Traditional subjects still existed, but nearly every discipline had been affected by the discovery of mana, the emergence of new professions, and the growing importance of wilderness exploration. Simply keeping pace with those developments had required an extraordinary amount of effort.
Several department heads smiled appreciatively before returning to their notes. They all understood that the difficult work was far from finished, but hearing genuine recognition from the Head Dean helped remind everyone how much progress they had already made. It was easy to focus on the problems that still remained while overlooking the accomplishments achieved during the previous four years.
"Head Dean, our department does have a concern," another voice spoke up.
Sjaak immediately turned toward the speaker.
Nicolaas Nijstad, the head of the Defense Department, sat near the middle of the conference table with a noticeably more serious expression than before. His department had become one of the university's most influential faculties since the arrival of the System because it oversaw nearly every form of physical education offered by the institution. Combat instruction, survival training, physical conditioning, weapons courses, and emergency response all ultimately fell under his authority.
The Defense Department itself had barely existed before humanity entered the new age. Physical education had once been little more than an optional extracurricular activity for most university students, while weapon training belonged almost exclusively to military academies. Four years earlier, however, that philosophy had changed completely. The university senate had unanimously agreed that every student should graduate possessing at least the ability to defend themselves in a world where danger could appear almost anywhere.
The decision had been controversial when first proposed. Many professors argued that universities existed to educate minds rather than train fighters, while others believed combat instruction should remain the responsibility of the military. Those objections quickly disappeared after the first few monster incidents demonstrated just how vulnerable untrained civilians truly were. In the new world, self-defense had become a practical life skill rather than an optional hobby.
"Yes, Nicolaas?" Sjaak asked, his expression becoming noticeably more serious. "What seems to be the problem?"
Unlike budget discussions or scheduling conflicts, concerns raised by the Defense Department often had long-term consequences for the university's future. If Nicolaas believed something required immediate attention, it was usually because the issue genuinely deserved consideration.
"It's about the guest lecturer you asked us to invite for the Adventurer Program," Nicolaas began.
Several people around the table immediately looked up from their documents. The university's newly established Adventurer curriculum had attracted enormous public attention, and everyone knew the administration had been searching for experienced professionals willing to share practical knowledge with students.
"I had a holographic meeting with him to discuss scheduling," Nicolaas continued. "Apparently, his group won't be leaving the forest for at least another two months. He suggested either postponing the lecture until they returned or conducting it remotely through holographic transmission."
Sjaak nodded slowly.
"That seems like a perfectly reasonable solution."
"It does," Nicolaas agreed. "At least, that's what I thought at first."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"After the meeting, I became curious. He's surprisingly young considering everything his faction has accomplished, so I started researching both him and the organization he belongs to. That's when I realized we have a much larger problem."
The room gradually fell silent.
"Our archery program isn't good enough."
For several moments, nobody responded.
Even the Head of the Archery Department looked completely bewildered by the statement, blinking several times as though trying to determine whether he had misunderstood what had just been said. Around the conference table, confused expressions spread from one department head to another. Sjaak himself slowly leaned back into his chair, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.
"I understand exactly what you mean," Sjaak finally replied with a quiet sigh. "Although, in the future, I'd appreciate it if you informed me about issues like this before the meeting whenever possible."
His tone remained calm, but Nicolaas immediately recognized the criticism.
"I know," he admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Unfortunately, I only discovered everything about two or three hours before today's meeting."
"I realize that," Sjaak answered. "Even so, a warning would have been appreciated."
Nicolaas could only nod apologetically.
"I'll remember that next time."
The atmosphere relaxed slightly, allowing Sjaak to organize his thoughts before addressing the actual issue.
"The current archery curriculum isn't bad," he said carefully. "In fact, it accurately teaches the style used throughout the military and by the overwhelming majority of organized factions. If we suddenly replaced that system with a completely different one, we could end up creating more problems than we solve."
Several department heads nodded in agreement.The current style was based on target archery that was used in the Olympics, which focused on absolute accuracy rather than anything else, and it suited the military perfectly as it allowed them to quickly establish units and make sure that every command was the same for every person involved, and the same was true for normal factions who did not need units but guards who were needed for their accuracy and discipline that this style creates.
"I understand that," Nicolaas replied. "The problem isn't that our current method is ineffective."
He leaned slightly forward.
"It's the difference in firing speed."
That single sentence immediately caught everyone's attention.
Sjaak slowly rubbed his forehead.
"Yes," he admitted quietly. "The difference really is that significant."
The room became silent once more as everyone considered the implications.
They had all reviewed recordings from the Black Forest expedition before inviting the guest lecturer. What they had witnessed challenged many of the assumptions upon which their current archery curriculum had been built. The speed at which arrows were fired, combined with the level of practical accuracy maintained during combat, simply exceeded what most instructors believed possible using conventional training methods.
"Speed always comes with trade-offs," Sjaak finally said.
"The faster someone fires, the more difficult it becomes to maintain perfect accuracy. Most organizations accept that limitation because their archers aren't expected to fight like adventurers. They're expected to stand guard, defend fixed positions, maintain formation, and deliver accurate volleys whenever commanded. Under those circumstances, consistency and discipline are far more valuable than raw firing speed."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"That said..." Sjaak looked toward Nicolaas. "I don't think your suggestion is unreasonable. Having an instructor capable of teaching that style—especially within our Adventurer Program—could become an enormous advantage. Independent adventurers operate under completely different conditions than soldiers. They're not bound by battlefield formations, and they often need to make split-second decisions without anyone giving orders."
Several department heads exchanged thoughtful glances.