Chapter Seventy-Four: The Gap in Teaching

Mulan gazed joyfully at the Book of Dawn in his hands. Rather than a typical magical tome he had written, this was more a mysterious book of his own creation, merely disguised as a spellbook.

At the same time, Mulan had begun to grasp the finer details of his own abilities. Despite having successfully created the Book of Dawn, the process was not something he could simply replicate. The Fangs, the Halo, and the Book of Dawn—these creations resonated with the extraordinary in a way that followed similar principles. The first two successes had been strokes of fortune intertwined with fate; only the third was truly experimental. All in all, it was not a matter of blind luck anymore.

He looked out the window. The heavy rain had ceased in the depths of night, and now, in the distance, the first light of dawn brushed the sky.

Mulan closed the Book of Dawn, undressed, and slipped into bed. This time, he no longer feared his nightmares; instead, he faced them, observed every detail within, and sought meaning in the chaos. He knew he was different—at least, he was willing to believe in his uniqueness and hypnotically reinforced this conviction within himself.

The next day, around noon, Mulan awoke, stretching languidly, feeling well-rested despite the vivid dreams. He got up, washed, had brunch, then prepared his lesson plans. According to the schedule, he had a class the next morning.

But he also knew that the students had no classes that afternoon. In fact, their week only included four days of lessons, and most were in the mornings. Mulan decided he would post a notice on the main building's bulletin board at midday, announcing that he would hold basic theory classes for the new students that afternoon and the next.

Before noon class let out, having already eaten his own home-cooked meal, Mulan approached the main teaching building’s bulletin board and affixed a handwritten notice.

As he did, students poured out of their classrooms and noticed the professor with a book in his arms pinning up a notice. The new students did not recognize him, but the older ones lit up with excitement.

“Professor Jonster!”
“Professor, are you giving a class?”
“You’re back, Professor?”
“Professor Jonster, we missed you so much!”
“Professor, I have so many questions I want to ask you!”
“Yes, I’ve saved up so many as well!”
“Professor, what’s the notice you’re posting?”
“Oh, a basic class for the new students?”

The senior students quickly crowded around him, and the newcomers, curious about this unusual scene, gathered as well. None had ever seen their seniors so animated for a professor before.

“Who is this young professor?”
“That’s Professor Jonster?”
“My roommate really respects him.”
“Yes, my senior said she likes him a lot too. He’s so young!”

Mulan finished pinning the notice, smoothing the edges, and turned to address the students.

“During my absence, many new faces have arrived. I trust you’ve all helped each other as best you can, but the new students’ foundations are clearly quite weak. So, this afternoon and tomorrow, I’ll hold several introductory classes. I hope you’ll make time to attend.”

“Professor, can we seniors attend too?”
“I’d like to hear it again!”
“Me too!”
“I’m coming as well!”

Mulan laughed. “Of course! As long as the lecture hall can accommodate you, everyone’s welcome.”

He walked toward the main building, smiling. The students quickly made way, watching him until he disappeared inside—they knew he was likely heading to the top-floor faculty offices.

Some students began whispering about the upcoming class, while others raced to secure seats, knowing the hall would be packed. The fastest dashed to grab a quick lunch or even skipped it, sending friends to bring food so they could claim a spot.

Most of these were senior students; the new ones, not yet realizing the significance, were still discussing the afternoon class.

Mulan ascended to the top floor and entered the faculty office, where only the old wizard remained—the morning’s lecturer. Other professors rarely came when not teaching.

“Good afternoon, Professor Mongley.”

“Oh? Good afternoon, Professor Jonster. Have you recovered? I heard Her Majesty, Queen Nisheriel, held a grand investiture for you yesterday. Your bravery in saving her has certainly secured your political future!”

“It was indeed a grand occasion,” Mulan replied, taking his seat. He felt a twinge of guilt before the old wizard, but nothing more; he had already anticipated what the old man would say.

Sure enough, once the old wizard had finished organizing his things, he spoke gravely. “Professor Jonster, I have some bad news.”

“What is it?”

The old wizard glanced toward the hallway, then continued in a low voice, “That demon I locked away... I don’t know when, but it’s escaped! Professor Jonster, I know it’s always been very interested in you, coveting both your body and soul. It will certainly come looking for you. If you encounter it, do not engage. Come find me at once.”

His words were tactful, but the warning was clear: facing the demon would be extremely dangerous.

Mulan feigned surprise. “Professor Mongley, didn’t you say the bottle was perfectly safe? Was it broken?”

Mongley looked both embarrassed and puzzled. He knew Mulan was a theorist in his own right, and truthfully, it was their shared academic interests that had brought them close. Mongley explained, “That’s what’s so strange—the bottle was securely sealed in a safe place, unbroken, the runes undisturbed, no magical leakage, and yet it disappeared. Even if the demon had perished, there should still be residual energy inside!”

Mulan frowned. “Matter doesn’t vanish into thin air, and energy must be conserved... Professor Mongley, do you walk in your sleep?”

“Of course not! I’ve never sleepwalked!”

Mulan laughed. “Don’t worry, Professor Mongley. If it dares come for me, it’s in for a surprise. I’ll help you catch it again!”

As he spoke, a radiant aura, like steam rising from his body, appeared—a Knight of Light’s unmistakable presence. The old wizard stared in astonishment.

“You’ve crossed into the real?”

Mulan considered before answering, “My world isn’t fully stable yet; the elemental foundation hasn’t affected it. But my totem has appeared, and it’s quite distinct.”

“A totem?” The old wizard’s eyes widened. He believed Mulan, but this was unheard of—a totem appearing before one’s inner world was fully formed? It was like hearing a baby had just learned to stand, only to find it could already pole vault.

“In any case, be cautious regarding the demon. If you find any clues, tell me at once. That creature is dangerous!”

“Of course. I would never treat my own safety lightly.”

The old wizard nodded, gathering his things. “Are you teaching this afternoon?”

“Yes, giving the new students a foundational class. Afterward, I’ll speak with the administrative office about student classification and other improvements. This place should feel more like a real school.”

The old wizard looked relieved. “Thank goodness! This new batch of students in my classes—they’re like a flock of frogs, blank-eyed except for the occasional croak when called upon. I thought there might be a gap between the old and new, but I never expected them to be so dense—it must be a lack of foundation. Thank the heavens you’re here. I’ve had enough!”

“By the way, when will you cover my potions class? It’s been ages, and I can’t delay my research any longer.”

Mulan offered an apologetic smile. “I’ll start this week. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good, good!” The old wizard smiled at last, as if even the looming threat of the escaped demon had lightened.

...

That afternoon, Mulan arrived at the lecture hall to find it packed to the brim—every seat taken, extra chairs crammed into the aisles, and at least two students squeezed at every table.

“I’m very glad to see such enthusiasm for learning. Let’s begin!”

Wearing a charming smile, Mulan began once more to teach the foundations.