Chapter 277

Before preparing the class, the most important consideration is the qualitative improvement of the lesson to be taught to the students.

From the students’ perspective, they must spend a considerable amount of time each week, two hours twice a week, and that time should not feel wasted.

Studies tend to be boring for most people, but minimizing that boredom is the first step towards a quality class.

Furthermore, I remember that during the class last week, the students were unable to concentrate properly. That was a sight I had never seen last year.

When these students were in their first year, my lessons seemed to work reasonably well, but as they progressed to higher grades, that effectiveness began to show its limits. At least, that’s what I thought.

Until last year, the class was being listened to well, but if they suddenly began to lose focus, it meant there was a problem with my teaching, not with the students. Making excuses just because it was right after the school opening ceremony only seemed like covering my eyes and pretending not to see.

Therefore, I made an effort to improve the quality of the lesson as much as possible.

Up to today, I pondered what kind of lesson to teach and how to help the students easily reach the essence of the lesson again.

If someone were to ask if it was difficult, I would like to say it wasn’t easy. It was one of the three factors that had been troubling me for the last few days. The other two were related to Meijhem’s third child and Sofia the Sub-priest.

Anyway, today was the time to reap the fruits of that effort.

As usual, I scanned the students sitting in the classroom. The sparkling eyes looking at me were filled with their own dreams. They were at an age to dream.

I hoped to contribute, even just a little, to giving wings to those dreams.

After offering a brief wish from the bottom of my heart, I slowly opened my mouth.

“Hello, everyone.”

The weather was clear, the sun was bright, and the blades of grass were fluttering in the wind on a Friday in mid-March.

As soon as it struck nine-thirty in the morning, my Theology class began.

* * * * *

Professor Antorelli had been displaying unusual behavior for the past few days.

There was nothing different when the class first started, but during the lesson or towards the end of the class, that awkward change was always noticeable.

He had shown that smile, which was never displayed normally and could barely be counted on one hand, now almost twice during a single class.

If he deemed a presentation well done during the class, he would smile once, and again when leaving the classroom at the end.

At first, when he suddenly did something he never did before, everyone was taken aback. There were even students wondering if he was about to die soon.

However, since that behavior had persisted for nearly two weeks, it seemed they had somewhat gotten used to it.

At least, the students were no longer panicking and unable to concentrate in class as before.

It was funny to think about how one could become immune to a person’s smile.

Regardless of Professor Antorelli’s suddenly more frequent smiles, his classes continued to show a qualitatively high level.

There was almost no gap in his knowledge of theology, and whenever one asked him something, he would always provide answers that were helpful from various angles.

It was a class that the top talents gathered from the Empire’s prestigious Academy could not dislike.

Thus, the students in Class 2-A had been deeply immersed in his theology lessons since their first year.

However, even the most delicious bread would become tiresome after a year of eating nothing but that. Humans were surprisingly picky creatures.

If one is standing, they want to sit; if they are sitting, they want to lie down; and once lying down, they want to sleep again. It is human nature.

Of course, there was no way I could accommodate each changing taste of the students bit by bit. Still, his class remained beneficial and easy to understand.

Nevertheless, the past two weeks had not been easy days to shake off the feeling of monotony regarding his class.

Students longed to feel that freshness once more.

Professor Antorelli’s Theology class, which sparkled like the stars in the night sky. The fun of growing little by little while attending that class was like a drug that you couldn’t cut off easily. The students’ thirst for new experiences was gradually intensifying.

And today.

“We will have a somewhat special lesson today.”

It was after two weeks post the opening ceremony and nearly six months since gaining insights from his class when words that would pique the students’ interest finally came out of his mouth.

A somewhat special lesson. The students filling the classroom well knew that what Professor Antorelli meant by “somewhat” special was not truly that at all.

Whenever he uttered such words, amazing results were always produced. It had been so at the beginning of the semester, when the first assignment was submitted, and during the integrated exam as well.

It would be one thing if it had happened once, but if it had occurred more than three times, it could no longer be attributed to coincidence. This time would likely not be any different.

The eyes of the students gazing at Professor Antorelli in the classroom suddenly lit up with anticipation. As they contained their expectations, Professor Antorelli continued speaking.

“Today’s class is an interactive class. However, I will not engage in any teaching today.”

Sofia the Sub-priest lifted a chair and went up to the platform. The chair placed before the podium looked quite cushy, as if one could sit there comfortably for several hours.

And onto that, Professor Antorelli naturally took his seat.

With his legs slightly crossed, he glanced at his wristwatch. The students, following suit, looked at the wall clock, and it was already 9:40, ten minutes after the class had started.

“I will not intervene in any of the lesson scope, questions for the exams, or the overall coordination of the class. I will only present you with the rough theme of today’s lesson.”

He was an educator. As a higher priest, a relatively high-ranking cleric, and a salaried employee of the Academy, he had an obligation to teach the students.

Yet now, he proudly proclaimed that he would neglect that duty. It was inevitable that murmurs would gradually grow among the students.

“However, there are two things I must ask of you.”

Of course, those murmurs ceased almost immediately due to Professor Antorelli’s following words.

“First, even though I will not intervene in the proceeding of the lesson at all, please do not cause excessive disturbances. I will allow discussions with your peers at an appropriate volume.”

The classroom fell silent in an instant. There was certainly strength in his voice.

Not as a magician or a swordsman, but Professor Antorelli’s low and gentle voice penetrated the ears of the students without resistance.

“Second, the target of your lesson is me. After sufficient discussion and thought, please logically organize your opinions and explain them to me as a listener. Do you understand?”

There was no way they understood. But still, the students blankly nodded.

Even if they did not understand his words, ultimately, it would be necessary for Professor Antorelli to reveal the rough theme of the lesson for clarity. This was a realm of acquisition rather than comprehension.

“Now, let me present the theme of today’s lesson.”

Professor Antorelli slowly stood up from his seat. He took a few leisurely steps forward and soon stood in front of the green chalkboard.

[ From a theological perspective, is unavoidable murder acceptable? ]

His neat handwriting aligned perfectly, and white chalk dust dispersed.

Whether the students looked at it or not, Professor Antorelli turned away from the chalkboard and sat back on the chair at the podium, gazing blankly at the classroom full of students.

While he did that, noticing the students staring at the chalkboard without any movement, Professor Antorelli slightly tilted his head with a stern expression.

“The class has begun.”

The class had commenced.

* * * * *

It was confusing.

This was the feeling each student experienced.

While students in Class A were well aware that Professor Antorelli sometimes had unique lessons, they had never seen a lesson as unique as today’s.

“What is that? Is unavoidable murder acceptable?”

“Is unavoidable murder acceptable?”

“What… how is this an interactive class? Isn’t it just us drumming and playing together?”

Many thoughts crossed their minds, but no student easily voiced them.

One by one, students who regained their focus began to stare intently at the words written on the chalkboard, struggling to interpret them.

Is unavoidable murder acceptable. The category of murder could be broader than one might think.

It could be against another human, or perhaps against a dwarven or… elven race.

The subtle hues of confusion flickered on the students’ faces, fading and re-emerging several times. Although there was nothing particularly difficult about the sentence’s meaning, articulating one’s opinion confidently and providing evidence for it felt daunting.

Professor Antorelli remained seated at the podium, staring blankly at the students.

He was neither reading a book nor a Bible. He simply sat there quietly.

As if he were truly just another student attending the class.

“Murder is a grave sin that cannot escape the Lord’s judgment under any circumstances.”

In the suffocating silence, the first to speak up was Angela, part of the Department of Theology.

Wearing a Roman collar instead of a tie with her school uniform, she spoke.

“Though one can relieve their burden and sin through repentance and forgiveness, murder is inherently evil. It certainly cannot be acceptable in any circumstance.”

“Angela. That is unacceptable.”

The one who opposed that statement was Louis, also from the Department of Theology, donning a Roman collar like hers. He continued with a pious expression.

“I don’t misunderstand your words, but if we consider just your assertion, it is overly broad. Shouldn’t there be some conditions attached to the term ‘murder’?”

“There is no such thing as murder with conditions.”

“War, self-defense, heretical judgment, punishing criminals, witch hunts. Are all of those types of murder unforgivable? Unacceptable under any circumstance?”

“… Right. Those too are, ultimately, murder.”

“Then, I cannot accept that. A murder with a justified reason is hard to see as a sin.”

The classroom began to witness an acute clash of two opposing statements. The rest of the students, aside from the two from the Department of Theology, gradually began to align with one side of the argument.

“Isn’t it so? How can murder justify itself? The very idea of murder falling under self-defense doesn’t even make sense.”

“Can’t we just stop before things get too far?”

“No. Sometimes there are unavoidable murders. If someone is holding a knife to your throat, and you have a gun that can subdue them, will you not shoot?”

“Using a gun to subdue someone and committing murder are two separate issues.”

The once quiet classroom was gradually becoming noisier. The chilled air of the classroom was beginning to heat up.

‘… Are you smiling?’

Within that atmosphere, Laura caught sight of Professor Antorelli softly smiling.

‘An interactive class.’

As he had said, this lesson that did not seem like a lesson had all the students engaged.

Igniting a rough flame within hearts that were gradually cooling.