Atheron il Ataraxia, Part 2

But wait. Hold on a second. Let's rein in the horses and figure out how it all led to this point, alright?

School days passed like notebook pages.

In the hallways, I sometimes saw my former classmates. When they saw me, they stiffened and moved away. Same as everyone else.

And about the girls… God bless the dean who approved short skirts as the official uniform for our female students!

The girls in my group were no exception. Then again, it made sense — every second person here looked like a model or the protagonist of some novel.

I noticed that their favorite class was History. Our young teacher, who also happened to be our homeroom instructor, didn't know much about me.

Her name is Elthea. I don't remember the rest.

She always preached that we shouldn't believe rumors and instead trust one another. And during her lectures, I could catch up on some serious sleep.

It even reminded me of the times I used to snore like a horse during classes last year. Good old days.

This time, however, the lecture took an interesting turn.

"Today, we'll be discussing the Dragonslayers."

Lirael immediately perked up. I noticed — we both sat in the back row.

So she is interested in my past. Hm.

"As you all know, during the Era of Dragons, the Dragonslayers were the ones who put an end to the tyranny of the draconic beasts. For ages, the sky-lizards ruled our lands and burned entire histories to ashes. Countless tomes and knowledge of the ancient world were lost, stalling our progress for hundreds of years. Only the blessed Dragonslayers came forth as heroes and freed the world from dragons."

That's right, honey. Keep talking.

Yeah, we were like that. Even if I remember nothing — my soul says it's all true!

Lirael glanced at me thoughtfully. She was wondering whether a sleazy little jerk like me could ever have been the savior of an entire era.

"But few know what the Dragonslayers hid behind their heroic facade. Ancient texts claim that these men were… quite fond of women. They had a tradition of summoning crowds of unmarried beauties and throwing wild orgies."

Lirael looked like she'd just been struck by lightning. She shot me another glance and—

—She spotted that awful, gleeful smirk spreading across my face.

It's true! My soul is practically trembling!

"Idiot," Lirael facepalmed.

"And they liked beer too," Elthea added. "Those days must have felt like paradise to them. They declared a new era had begun — the Era of Heroes. But every era is outshone by another, one led by stronger figures. The Mages."

The first mages — mysterious individuals who gained their power through an otherworldly crystal. Refining their strength to perfection, they began sharing knowledge, crafting tomes, and recording skills into scrolls. The more of them appeared, the faster magic evolved. Now we have hundreds of branches, each splitting into even more.

Everyone knew this story.

"The Mages wiped out every last Dragonslayer. Didn't even leave them a chance to pass on their legacy. Why? Some say the Slayers hid their true power — because dragons couldn't be slain by mere Light element. Others believe the Slayers were false heroes who deserved death for their misdeeds. There are many versions."

Lirael felt something flicker in her heart. Was it pity? Sympathy?

Either way, when she looked at me one last time, she saw me withdrawn, my face buried behind a book, with only my thoughtful eyes peeking over.

I hate this story.

Because it's true. There are no Dragonslayers left. And my dream — to meet my descendants — will never come true.

It's all just a lie to soothe myself.

I'm the last… who calls himself a Dragonslayer.

—

The rest of the classes didn't appeal to me. I slacked off, skipped them, or showed up late whenever I could.

And if I did show up on time — not just my classmates, but even the teachers would sit there with their mouths agape. What's the matter? Did a monster just walk in or something?"

"Ahem. Atheron, could you briefly tell us what we covered last lesson?"

Huh? How the hell would I know? I'll stay quiet, and they'll ask someone else. Always works.

They know I'm hopeless anyway.

But there was one class I didn't completely hate. Mostly because of the teacher himself.

Dean Hellmaine. A true genius of this era. An Archmage who had mastered High Magic and the Destruction element. He became a teacher to share his knowledge with fresh minds.

The guy deserved respect. And as a young teacher, he wasn't bad. People called him the Jester Archmage.

Hazel-eyed blond. Skin pale as snow.

And in his class, I felt as free as a bird.

"Atheron," he smiled with closed eyes. "Would you kindly take your feet off the desk? I'm here to teach you magic, not give a lecture on the anatomy of your boots."

"But professor," I flashed him a brilliant grin, "don't be jealous. My boots clearly get more attention than your speech on mana crystallization. With my manners, I'm saying I see you not just as some damn teacher, but as a real friend."

The students tried hard not to laugh. Everyone knew I was like cat and mouse with Dean.

Dean smiled like a lunatic.

"It'd be more pleasant to hear that if it didn't come from you. Unfortunately, such manners can get one expelled. And insulting a Council member too. So I'll say it one last time — feet down."

I snorted.

"What a bastard. Didn't expect you to follow the rules, professor. You win. But next time, why don't you show us your levitation skills in practice instead of theory? Like, say… blow up Harumi's skirt."

The whole class erupted in laughter. Harumi — our classmate — was known for her shapely hips. The kind of curves no world has ever seen.

She blushed and hid her reddening face.

"Oh really?" the teacher grinned wider. "Maybe I'll blow your pants off too. Now that would be something to see in class."

I gave him a wicked smirk. My face became even nastier.

"Try it! And maybe I'll yank yours down during break."

"My, my. No need to talk to your teacher so rudely."

He was right. He was the only one I allowed myself that kind of talk with.

He then casually raised a finger.

"Remember the topic we've covered? Levitation — the first branch of Destruction element. With enough control of one's thoughts, even a fool can achieve inner peace."

The textbook for High Magic, which had been lying untouched on my desk, suddenly floated up and flipped open. Its pages started turning on their own, following subtle movements of his fingertips.

"Teachers are strictly forbidden from using this branch on students... even if said students beg for it." He tilted his head. "But you, Atheron, haven't had your well-deserved punishment in quite a while. Let's fix that."

The book hovered right in front of my face.

"Here. You should study this section very carefully if you plan to pass the next exam."

Snap.

The book slammed into my face.

The whole class burst into laughter.

I sat there stunned, blinking. That smug bastard just publicly humiliated me.

Alright, Dean...J ust you wait till I master levitation. Let's see how you laugh when it's your pants flying across the room.

But I liked this life. Instead of living by knightly etiquette, I'd rather embrace total freedom of speech. This is my second life. My second chance.

I do what I want. God, what kind of bastard was I in my past life, if I'm like this now?

A few days later. Walking into the homeroom, I saw Remioku with two other guys by the door. So he gathered a gang of tough nuts, huh?

"Hey, you uncouth moron."

How rude. He even blocked my way in.

"Hm? You talking to me?"

"Who else? I've heard a lot about you. Hah, never thought our first meeting would be like this. Kinda disgusting, really. My arm still hurts."

"Hm? Were we supposed to meet in a romantic restaurant instead?"

"Bastard," Remioku flared up, still grinning. "Come to the Mugen Fight Club after class today. We'll settle things fair and square. Don't show, and you'll be my bitch till graduation."

I smirked.

Bold little brat. You're old enough to be my great-great-great-grandkid. Not that I care about reputation in this damned academy, but…

My fists are itching to beat the crap out of this idiot!

"You're on," I said.

Remioku laughed:

"Perfect. Don't chicken out. That pretty face of yours needs a good polish."

"By the way, what was it again — Ramenoku?"

"W-What?! I'm Remioku! I swear, I wanna hit you right now."

They walked into the classroom. I followed.

Just two more classes and the sun will start to set. And when night falls — the Fight Club awakens.

Interesting. So it's a brawl with a tough nut, huh?

Seriously, it has to be a good experience. I'm not holding back.

I can't wait to find out just how strong I am.