“I know that you feel sorry for me.”
That was all Henry knew about Russo. The chief instructor was a man of few words and precise actions, always saying only what needed to be said and doing only what needed to be done. Among everyone in the academy, Russo was the one who embodied chivalry the most.
If he’s really trying to teach me, that should be a good thing… No, no. That would be a problem.
A sudden realization struck him. He recalled his current situation and what mattered most. Right now, Henry was in no position to receive instruction from Chief Instructor Russo.
If I do, I won’t be able to keep broadcasting properly. That’s a problem.
Who had brought Henry to this point in the first place? Was it Chief Instructor Russo, the only person at the academy who had watched over him? Or perhaps his family, who fervently wished for his success from afar? No, neither of those. It was the unknown mages—the ones who were watching his every move and chatting excitedly.
They were the reason he had gained the ability to wield mana. Right now, Henry had to continue broadcasting and use the money he received from donations to purchase talent orbs. Taking lessons from Russo wouldn’t make for an appealing broadcast to secure more support.
Of course, the real foundation of this broadcast was laid by the Grand Mage who set it all up.
Henry had already considered that. Not all mages were the same. The one managing the broadcast was undoubtedly a being on a completely different level from these “viewers.”
“Mages.”
Henry made his decision. This was not something he could resolve on his own.
“I cannot become the instructor’s disciple. If I do, I won’t be able to continue broadcasting as I am now.”
[That’s true.]
[Wait, is this thing actually picking up on every random comment? Isn’t that kinda weird?]
[This AI is way too advanced, lol.]
“I wouldn’t dare to evaluate the mechanism you’ve placed on me, but I’m sure you can perceive my words. Instructor Pike did as well.”
Pike had proven it back in the mana training room. If the mages’ mechanism—or the Grand Mage’s personal intervention—was truly absolute, they could have simply made it so Henry never caught anyone’s attention in the first place. But from what he had deduced, the only thing these mages could do was prevent the instructors from understanding the concept of a “broadcast.” In the end, Henry had no choice but to reject the offer he knew was coming from Russo.
“What should I say to decline without offending him…?”
He had never imagined this scenario. Henry had always been good at crafting an image, but in this case, he wasn’t sure how to handle it.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to ponder.
“Oh no, he’s here.”
The sound of a visitor announcement echoed through the training hall. Fortunately, the room was structured in a way that prevented internal sounds from leaking outside, allowing Henry to broadcast freely.
Russo, however, interpreted Henry’s flustered expression differently.
So, it was uncomfortable for him after all.
This was a private training hall belonging to an instructor. For someone like Henry, who had always been disregarded, it would be overwhelming to use.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
Russo sincerely apologized. As a knight, he understood better than anyone how valuable a moment of enlightenment was. Even if Henry had not reached such a stage yet, considering his recent rapid improvement, it was a valid concern.
“Not at all.”
“That’s a relief. First of all, congratulations. Your decision to stand by your choice was the right one. If you had followed my clumsy advice, you wouldn’t have been able to savour this moment.”
“I’m always grateful.”
“I don’t intend to take up much of your time, so let’s get straight to the point.”
Gulp. Henry swallowed nervously.
“From today onward, you may use this training hall anytime. As an instructor, it’s embarrassing to admit, but I haven’t done any personal training for the past few years. So, in essence, this space is just sitting empty.”
It was an incredible offer—free access to an instructor’s private training hall!
But before Henry could even process the shock, Russo continued.
“Additionally, the headmaster has always said that every talented trainee must be given an opportunity, even if it comes a little late.”
Henry tensed up. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.
“Instructor, I’m truly sorry, but I—”
“Do not interrupt, Henry Hamilton.”
Russo’s voice was firm.
“Unfortunately, you missed the final test of the year. But as you know, there is still one opportunity left.”
“…Yes.”
“And as an instructor, leaking the details of the test would be unacceptable, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“However, this is a difficult matter. As I just mentioned, the headmaster insists that all talented trainees must be given a fair chance.”
[Wait, hold on, LOL.]
[I don’t think he’s trying to take you as a disciple, haha.]
[What is this even—lol.]
The chat was exploding with laughter. The viewers had already caught on to what Russo was implying.
And so had Henry.
“When two fundamental principles conflict, it’s my duty as the chief instructor to exercise discretion.”
“…….”
“Of course, I won’t tell you outright. I’m simply saying… If I were in your position, I would train in a certain way.”
Chief Instructor Russo.
The man who had always embodied the true spirit of a knight was now, completely unexpectedly, giving Henry a major hint about the next test.
“Is this really okay?”
Russo murmured as he gazed into the empty air. It was undoubtedly a welcome development that Henry had awakened his talent. Hard work rarely paid off, and seeing Henry as proof of that made Russo consider picking up the sword once more.
“But leaking the exam content, hmm.”
His thoughts were complicated for no reason. There was no use in regretting it now. This was merely a process of reflection—an examination of whether his actions had been right.
“As a knight, it was the right thing to do. As an academy instructor, not something to be proud of.”
Yet, Russo didn’t feel bad. He recalled the faces of those who had belittled Henry Hamilton’s efforts and the academy director, who had grumbled that it would be better if Henry left on his own. The so-called master of this academy was a man who cared only about results.
I wonder what he’ll say when he sees Henry now.
Perhaps he would cling to his pride. Results were important, but if they were imperfect, he would rather uphold his dignity. However, Russo had confirmed it with his own eyes just moments ago—Henry’s talent was anything but ordinary.
And yet, they let such a gem sink into the mud.
Russo scoffed. The thought was directed at himself as well. He felt regret, anger toward those who had mocked Henry, but that was as far as Russo had gone.
I didn’t do anything either.
He had merely watched—watched Henry struggle alone to survive. Shamefully enough, Henry even seemed to be grateful for that.
And yet, I dare to think about teaching him?
Just earlier, when Russo had started to speak to Henry, Henry had cut him off, seemingly about to ask for permission for something. Russo had known what it was. He had deliberately silenced him out of fear of hearing it. I cannot accept your teachings. The emotion had been clear in Henry’s eyes.
“This is as far as I can go.”
Offering a small bit of help, though it was late. And doing so without making a show of it. That was what Russo had once told Alex a true instructor should do. Perhaps… if Henry asked for help first, things might be different.
The academy after dark was shrouded in darkness. Though there were occasional lights, most of the illumination here was from magical sources. If no one used them, the lights simply wouldn’t turn on. However, the chief instructor Russo’s training hall remained as bright as daylight.
Inside, Henry Hamilton was speaking to his viewers, explaining what had just happened.
“He didn’t directly tell me anything. If this gets out… well, I doubt it’ll be received well.”
Russo had given Henry guidance on his training—where to focus his efforts and which areas could be postponed. In effect, it had been a personal, tailored lesson.
[So he did tell you, lol.]
[So you just have to train according to that?]
[Isn’t that kinda unfair? Lmao.]
Henry’s face turned red. Earlier, when Russo had been giving him this training direction, he had looked just like this. Both of them had stared at the ceiling or the floor, avoiding each other’s eyes. But for different reasons. Russo was embarrassed by his own actions, while Henry was worried about what would happen if this got out.
Pride? I gave up on that long ago.
Henry had only one motivation left. No matter what it took, he had to become a knight. He had to inherit his family’s title.
“If another trainee followed this method, they would probably see results. But I’m a bit different.”
Henry had no talent for mana. Russo’s training regimen wasn’t something he could simply execute just because he knew the method. Fortunately, thanks to his subscription, he could at least accumulate mana, but everything else relied on the [Orb of Talent]. That was Henry’s current reality.
[So knowing the method isn’t enough, lol.]
[He’s got the meal but can’t eat it??]
[Such a waste, lmao.]
[Did the instructor know about this before helping you?]
“Instructor Russo isn’t like that. He’s the only person I truly trusted and followed in this academy. Only two instructors seriously advised me to consider paths outside knighthood.”
[Who was the other one?]
“Instructor Alex. If I hadn’t met you mages, I might have reconsidered my choices.”
In Russo’s training hall, Henry Hamilton continued his conversation with the viewers. This was an enormous event for him. More than sensing mana, the fact that he was using the chief instructor’s private training hall without restriction was a shocking privilege for an ordinary trainee.
[So he really was your supporter, lol.]
[Are you going to keep training there now?]
“Yes, I can’t refuse the instructor’s kindness. And training here should allow me to improve even more.”
It was an instructor’s domain, after all. The facilities here were leagues ahead of the training halls meant for regular trainees, especially those in C-Class or lower. The mana density was comparable to a dedicated mana training chamber, and every piece of equipment was top-tier. There were even several real swords and practical combat weapons stocked here.
[So knights don’t just use swords, huh, lol.]
[Honestly, a lance suits knights better.]
[Then why do they all learn swordsmanship?]
[Isn’t this world’s setting a bit different?]
Mages sure know more about this than I expected.
Henry had learned about this early on. A knight’s weapon wasn’t limited to swords. Some preferred spears, and there were even those who wielded axes. Choosing a weapon suited to one’s own hands was the first step in mastering combat.
“But the most commonly used weapon is the sword. Here, let me show you…”
Casually, Henry picked up a longsword of appropriate length. He focused. Mana surged fiercely through his body. It flowed into his arm, then into the blade. The unstable energy extended outward from the sword’s tip in a shimmering arc.
“This is why most knights use swords.”
