Almatik Massacre [ I ]

The next day, Luke found himself in his first class of the day—Battle Mechanics. The spacious lecture hall was filled with students, each seated in orderly rows, their gazes fixed on the instructor at the front.

The man standing there was Mr. Euric, a lean figure with dark brown hair neatly combed back. His defining feature was the long, thick mustache that curved slightly at the ends, giving him a rather distinguished yet imposing air. His sharp eyes scanned the room, his presence demanding silent attention.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Euric began his lecture.

"To understand how battles and wars unfold, one must first look to the past," he declared, his voice firm yet controlled.

He strode across the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back.

"War is an unchanging force," he continued, "an undiminishing rule when conflicts arise—whether between nations, settlements, or even vassal counties."

He paused, sweeping his gaze over the students before gesturing toward the large blackboard behind him.

"Infantry meets infantry, and commander meets commander."

As he spoke, his hand casually brushed away some invisible dust in the air before he turned sharply on his heel to face the board.

"Why is this the case?" He arched a brow, his mustache twitching slightly. "The reason is complex, yet it has remained the same throughout history."

Taking a piece of chalk, he began to write.

"Roughly 348 years ago, there was a war known as the Almatik War—or, as some grimly call it, the Almatik Massacre."

Murmurs flickered through the classroom. Some students leaned in with interest, while others merely jotted notes. Luke, however, remained as calm as ever, absorbing the information with sharp focus.

Mr. Euric turned back to the class, his expression unreadable.

"The cause? A long-standing grudge. The local Viscount at the time harbored deep resentment against a neighboring county, one governed by a Count."

He tapped the chalk against the board for emphasis.

"However, the Viscount was at a severe disadvantage—he lacked military backing, had fewer resources, and his manpower was dwarfed in comparison to his rival."

The classroom fell into a brief silence as Mr. Euric took a step forward.

"So, what does a man do when he has nothing left?" His eyes flickered with a knowing glint. "He resorts to desperation."

Several students stiffened at his words.

"The Viscount, unable to win a battle through traditional means, turned to a tactic most despised in warfare—hostage-taking."

Luke exhaled softly. He had studied the history of this world before, though some details still felt foreign to him. 

Mr. Euric clapped his hands together, breaking the silence.

"Alright, time for a small activity." Stroking his mustache thoughtfully, he let his gaze drift over the students before settling on two individuals.

"Mr. Ritrevon, Miss Fleurontide—please assist in distributing these materials."

A young man with glacial blue hair and a girl with dark pink locks stood up at the call of their names. With practiced efficiency, they began passing out maps and small charcoal pens.

Luke received his sheet and studied it carefully. As expected, the territories bore different names, but the shape of Krisha was the same

Mr. Euric clasped his hands behind his back once more.

"Some of you may have already realized that this map represents Krisha, albeit from an older era," he said, his voice steady. "However, our focus today is not on geography, but rather on tragedy."

He took a step toward the board and tapped on a specific area.

"Look to the south of past Krisha," he instructed. "Here, you will find multiple borders—this is where our Viscount and Count resided. Their names are unimportant for now, but their actions…" 

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Mr. Euric finally continued.

"The Viscount ruled over the southwestern part of these territories, while the Count resided just to the east, separated only by a modest plain."

He turned to the class, his expression unreadable.

"Now, I want you all to analyze this map." His sharp gaze swept over the students. "Mark the areas where you believe the Viscount launched unnecessary attacks. Once finished, submit your sheets before leaving."

With that, he resumed his lecture.

Time passed swiftly. The class eventually drew to a close, and one by one, students began forming a line to submit their completed assignments.

Luke moved forward at a steady pace, placing his sheet on the growing stack atop Mr. Euric's desk.

As he did, the instructor's sharp eyes flicked toward him for the briefest moment before shifting to the next student's work.

Then, just as the last few students were preparing to leave, Mr. Euric's voice rang out.

"Glade Ritrevon, Sara Fleurontide, Dias Melvontine, and Luke—stay behind for a moment."

A subtle shift passed through the remaining students, some exchanging curious glances, but Luke remained composed.