The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 392 (1) - The Academys Weapon Replicator
Agoris boasted numerous educational institutions.
While the Falind continent also had its share of schools, Constel stood out as the premier academy for training combatants, virtually unrivaled in its field.
However, Agoris, lacking a powerhouse like Zodiac and relying instead on sheer troop numbers, inevitably fostered a multitude of training institutions. Their quality was generally comparable, with an overall decent standard.
Among them, one academy stood at the forefront, the object of every child’s aspirations on the continent.
Occupying the same esteemed position as ‘Constel’ on the Falind continent, it stood here under the name ‘Atlas.’
And as spring ushered in a new year at Atlas, the academy welcomed one transfer student and two new teachers.
“I’m Pielott. Pleased to meet you.”
During the first day’s introductions, Pielott offered a concise self-introduction.
As most students followed a similar format, there was nothing unusual about it.
However, a few students tilted their heads, scrutinizing Pielott’s face.‘…Was he always here?’
With Atlas forming new classes each academic year, recognizing a newly transferred student was difficult unless one had memorized the faces of all their peers.
Still, by the third year, students had generally familiarized themselves with their classmates’ appearances, so a sense of dissonance was perceptible.
Moreover,
“Wow, what’s with his face?”
“How come we’ve never seen him before?”
Nearby female students whispered amongst themselves.
Pielott’s striking appearance made it hard to believe he had been attending Atlas all along.
Frondier had advised Pielott,
─Don’t go out of your way to mention being a transfer student. Don’t try too hard to hide it either. Just maintain the stance that it’s not a big deal, so you didn’t bring it up first.
The fact that Pielott was a transfer student wasn’t something that needed to be concealed at all costs. Getting caught wouldn’t drastically change anything.
However, both scenarios—introducing himself as a transfer student and causing a stir, or trying to hide it and getting exposed later—were undesirable.
Pielott’s identity was ultimately a weaving. Attracting too much attention could lead to unexpected exposure.
Therefore, even if his transfer status eventually came to light, it was best to let it happen gradually and without fanfare. After all, Pielott’s looks and abilities would inevitably draw attention regardless.
But unlike Pielott, who could blend in to some extent initially, Frondier and Elodie lacked that luxury.
“We’re getting new teachers today. Two of them. One is going to be our homeroom teacher.”
“Yeah, there were unfamiliar names on the list.”
A classroom in Atlas buzzed with excitement over this minor event.
As third-year students, they knew the faces and names of all their teachers.
So, the appearance of unfamiliar names naturally caught their attention, and even before seeing their faces, they knew new teachers had arrived.
“But who could they be? Becoming a third-year homeroom teacher right off the bat.”
“Right? Usually, they start with the first years, don’t they?”
Atlas, of course, saw a regular influx and outflow of teachers. However, most new teachers typically began with the first-year classes or took on non-homeroom roles.
But to be assigned to the third year right away?
“But I heard they’re in charge of theory classes?”
“Aw, come on. I got my hopes up for nothing.”
A wave of disappointment washed over the excited students.
With Atlas’s focus on training combatants, much like Constel, the students naturally gravitated towards practical skills. In fact, practical training held significantly more weight in the curriculum.
“The other one is for magic practice.”
“Ah, lucky them. I wish they were our homeroom teacher.”
“And I heard she’s really pretty.”
“So envious!”
A male student’s lament, filled with heartfelt longing, echoed through the room.
“What about our homeroom teacher?”
“I heard it’s a man.”
“Seriously? Is this discrimination? Don’t we deserve some decent benefits?”
“But I heard our homeroom teacher is also quite…”
Creak-
As the students chattered, the front door slid open.
“Good-looking, they say…”
The student’s last words trailed off, and silence descended upon the classroom in an instant.
“Oh, to quiet down so quickly, what a well-mannered and excellent group of students we have here.”
The man who entered, unaware of the true reason for the sudden hush, made his own assumptions.
“Hello everyone.”
As he stood at the podium and greeted them, the students remained speechless, as if they had been dipped in honey.
The man walked over to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.
‘Frondier de Roach’
Even as he wrote his name on the board,
“My name is ‘Frondier de Roach’.”
And introduced himself formally,
“I’ll be spending the next year with you all. I look forward to it.”
Smiling in an attempt to appear approachable, the students still remained silent, not a single sound escaping their lips.
“…Hmm, this level of politeness is a bit troublesome.”
Frondier scratched his cheek, facing the students who had frozen at the sight of him.
