Now that I am seeing this, it really is a fantasy world.
Raizen was standing at a corner of an incredibly spacious hall filled with thousands of students. An academy trope, one exclusively for nobles. Just by looking at their dispositions, no, just by knowing they are nobles, I am sure most of them are arrogant!
He looked at a certain someone before heaving a sigh of relief. Thankfully, I'm not a noble.
A prestigious magic academy, arrogant young masters, and an insanely ruthless world; when all these elements combine, it becomes a fest for trouble. A recipe for disaster!
I'm not a student though, I don't have such a high status. Instead, I am at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Not a commoner, not a peasant, but a slave! Despite thinking that, Raizen was pretty calm. After all, he was a faculty member's servant, a faculty member whom he was on really good terms with.
If you took out the fact they were master and servant, anyone who saw the two would mistake them for friends or acquaintances. How else would you judge these two?
His master, standing on an elevated wooden platform, was dressed in a white coat that suspiciously looked like a modern lab coat, and a pair of edge-sharp glasses.
It could've had a positive effect on his appearance if not for his unkempt hair, tired eyes and messy light stubble.
He looked like he had never seen the light of day in a very long time. Raizen, on the other hand, was dressed in vibrant green.
Cuffed breeches and a fine linen shirt, green eyes to fit the entire attire and slightly broad shoulders in addition to a well-proportioned, symmetrical body. But he wore a full-body cloak over to not attract attention.
If anyone saw him, their hearts would skip a beat no matter who they were. His looks were unparalleled that words couldn't describe it.
Combined with this attire, no one could reasonably suspect he was a slave. At the very least, they would think he was a rich merchant!
But that was not important. What is important is that he's a transmigrator from Earth!
Or so he thinks as he is suffering from total amnesia.
For example, think of an apple. When you do that, you recall it from a memory among countless memories where you have seen an apple before, whether you have seen it on the screen, grabbed one from the kitchen, or purchased it from a vendor.
You recall the object through a certain personal experience.
But for Raizen, it's pure information. He knows what an apple is but not how he came to know about that object. This kind of phenomenon had led him to question many times whether he really had any memories or just some kind of biological, intelligent machine.
Not having memories bothered him for some time until he realized something crucial.
Who cares? I am who I am because of the state I am in. In fact, I don't want those memories to come back, I don't want to lose myself. This is my true self!
And so, he went from a state of wanting his memories back, to a state of fearing their return, equating it to another person invading his mind. While suffering this new problem, he had another crucial realization!
What can I do about it? Nothing.
Then why am I stressing over it? I don't know.
And thus, Raizen solved both an identity crisis and an existential crisis in the same week he had transmigrated into this world.
If any philosopher saw this, they would scream pulling their hair out in disbelief!
He had no personality, sure, but personalities form out of external interactions and bodily desires. Raizen was aware of this; how can he let such things dictate who he becomes?
His mind was clear, seeing everything through pure lens. If anything, his main weakness was the lack of information regarding this world.
This body of his was that of a 21 years-old man yet he has no information regarding the two decades he lived in this world, thus suggesting he had only transmigrated into this body and not reincarnated at birth.
Four hours later, inside a small office at the central ten-floor academy building.
"You never told me you're illiterate," said the renowned researcher Astus Viner.
Raizen was seated on a couch, his arms spread out on its back while his legs stretched forward as he stared at the ceiling with a relaxed expression. "I assumed I could write if I can speak, an honest mistake."
The language sounded exactly like English but apparently had a completely different alphabetical system for it. He never asked about its origins because he had the common sense not to make such a strange inquiry that could easily be answered.
And the answer was obvious.
I am not the first transmigrator to come here, and probably not the last. Still, isn't this world too primitive? But when he thought about it more, he figured it was somewhat reasonable.
There are countless worlds in reality and probably countless that are habitable, meaning not all transmigrators land here. Add the fact that not everyone is a knowledgeable scholar capable of advancing a civilization's technological level. It makes sense!
I was stupid to assume this was a medieval world. It might be far advanced than that with magic, Raizen thought, glancing at his master. He only told him he had memory loss, and not the fact that he is from another world. Who knows what consequences it would create.
What if transmigrators are recognized as threats and are immediately captured and killed? What if he was perceived as a witch and burned at stake like the olden times in Earth?
Best case scenario, his words get passed off as crazy talk.
But that didn't mean he couldn't ask questions about the world; he had already established the fact he's amnestic to obtain information without attracting suspicion.
He returned to staring at the ceiling.
"Sigh, I'm tired," he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, his master spoke: "You haven't done anything. I am the one doing menial work here."
Raizen got startled. "F*ck, I keep forgetting you can hear from afar." He felt his heart almost jump out of his chest, facepalming himself.
It was a dangerous ability.
Fortunately, he had learned about it when he had cursed Astus in one of these previous days and was warned about speaking his thoughts around others like him. As for cursing him, he didn't mind.
In fact, Astus had told him on that very same day to speak casually when he's casual himself, which he is most of the time. Otherwise, Raizen must keep his status in mind.
After that, he went bragging about how many times Raizen would've died if he fell in the hands of any other master. Some of them didn't even see slaves as people.
"Your muttering is too loud, it's audible at my lowest enhancement. Even without it, I could still hear you mumble something," Astus complained, but in truth, he was just venting his frustration at having to correct a pile of exams.
Astus initially planned to dump the work on Raizen after giving him the list of answers.
However; that plan failed terribly before it started when he learnt Raizen was actually illiterate! 'What was I expecting!' the researcher shouted inwardly.
And not five minutes in, the idea of still dumping the work on him and giving him a list of answers was still in his head, thinking of ways around Raizen's illiteracy.
'If the strokes match the ones in the answer sheet, it's a correct answer?' An idea for a workaround came to him but soon was discarded. 'Sigh, not all answers are written the same way, this won't work.'
At this rate, he will finish grading these exams by midnight at best!
'No. I will not spend the rest of this day grading. I will not!' He put down his quill and stopped working. But he couldn't just leave and not do any, not after promising the headmaster.
He gave up idea of dumping the work and started thinking on how to do it efficiently.
'Increase my body enhancement? No, I have little experience with high levels of augmentation, I might tear apart the papers by accident. Even with the level I am experienced at, it'll take me 10 hours to finish!'
Idea immediately got discarded.
Doing it efficiently yet manually was not possible; it was going to take too long for his own comfort.
Next idea.
Delegated operating.
He looked at Raizen for a second before shaking his head. 'Damn it. He can sense energy but knows nothing of the basics. He can't read, let alone understand spell activation.'
Terrible idea, next!
Menial automation.
'It's not a repetitive task with simple repetitive actions. Grading papers requires intelligence and knowledge on the subject. Wait, of course! Intelligence! I need automated intelligence first!'
An inspirational idea. It caused Astus to see the light at the tunnel's end.
Next!
Limited intelligence.
'Unlike slow manual thinking, energy is the limit itself to how fast it could think, and I am going to give it a lot of energy!'
Twelve minutes later, he had finished inputting the answers and designing it to assign meaning to different shapes formed by ink—written words. Next, he started figuring out a way for it to physically grade these exams.
'Conjuring ink and a blow of wind at set intervals? No. Maintaining the conjured ink requires constant energy replenishing. These exams are stored away as proof of passing the written exam. Periodically replenishing them is too tedious.'
Despite that thought, he couldn't let go of this idea. Instinct told him he was on the right path to obtaining a solution. 'There has to be a permanent way!'
Once again, he started racking his brains for a workaround, often looking outside the window or walking through the academy hallways for inspiration.
15 minutes later. 30 minutes later. An hour later!
Sweat was dripping down his forehead, gazing out the window of his office, helpless.
For the past hour of inspiration-seeking, everything his eyes landed on entered his mind and went through extreme processing and dissection of its workings. Still, he came up with nothing suitable.
'A genius, they say. I am nothing but an idiot,' Astus Viner thought dejectedly, glancing back at the quill and its inkwell. The thought of using high level body enhancing was tempting.
He gulped. 'Maybe… I could potentially reduce the time needed to 5 hours at a few sacrifices. So what if they pass the written exam? The majority do not get accepted because of low aptitude. Out of 4,000 applicants, a generous 1,500 get to enroll. That's less than 40%!'
'And how many applicants graduate? The best year this academy had ever had recorded 300 graduates. That's less than 8%!'
Does it matter if a dozen people fail because of me? It doesn't even make up half a single percent!' Despite making up all those excuses, Astus Viner couldn't do it.
He couldn't sacrifice a student's chance at entering this prestigious academy. What if this education was their way of realizing their full potential?
In truth, Astus did not care about the students. He made a promise, and he was going to fulfill it at the best of his ability!
He looked outside once again, looking for inspiration.
At that moment, he saw a young teenager floating over Valferdo's walls.
'An Aero kid? Their hereditary technique is impressive. It allows for omni-directional movement.' Astus paused. 'Omni-directional movement…'
***
Floating over the walls of Valferdo, Imperio of the Aero Clan was gazing at the magnificent Valferdo's Academy.
One of the four most prestigious academies in the kingdom.
'I hope I pass the written exam. It was a long journey from east to here in the west. How can I lead the clan if I cannot graduate from the hardest academy?'
Out of nowhere, he heard window glass shatter.
Locating the sound, he noticed a broken window at one of the floors of the ten-floor central building. A man in a white coat stood out.
A distance of 300 meters separated the two, yet Astus Viner looked at him as if he was going to kill him. A moment later, he heard the researcher shout.
"Come here, my inspiration!" Astus Viner jumped out the fifth floor, landing on the ground, unfazed! A crater formed around his feet.
Imperio's jaw went slack, his eyes wanting to pop out. But then, in the next second, Astus started sprinting towards him!
Him sprinting towards Imperio wasn't going to be terrifying if not for the fact he was running at a speed of 30 meters per second!
"A F-F-First-First-Grade Master!!!" Imperio was frozen for a few seconds before he began turning around to fly away. However, at that instant, he heard another sound behind him.
Boom! Boom!
Astus jumped on top of the academy walls before jumping again, his hands stretched out to catch Imperio as his grin widened greatly. But just as he was going to grasp him, Imperio moved out the way at the final moment.
"Not so fast, inspiration!" Astus looked back at the kid, making several hand signs in a blur. "Open World — Soft Darkness!"
Formless energy exploded out of his body in an instant, creating a sphere around him with a radius of a hundred meters! It instantly trapped Imperio with the researcher!
Yet inside felt narrower, Imperio colliding against the soft walls of the sphere after one meter of falling. However, in the next second, the entire sphere that was in the air hit the ground, absorbing all the shock while protecting the two inside.
Imperio was terrified, his breathing heavy before he felt a pair of hands land on his shoulders. And before he could react with an attack, all his energy was sealed!
"Hello, inspiration. Care to spare me a minute?"