"What do you think a hero is?"
The question cut through the air like a blade.
It was the first thing Professor Lucas asked when he entered the training hall for Practical Combat Training, held every Monday morning.
"...Huh?"
"A hero?"
Confused murmurs rippled through the classroom. The cadets exchanged bewildered glances.
"Aren't heroes just people who receive the blessings of the Seven Gods and awaken a stigma?" one finally offered.
"But... demons can have stigmas too," another added hesitantly.
"Exactly."
Professor Lucas turned to the board and scribbled a single word in large, deliberate strokes: HERO.
"I'm not asking about the technical definition. I'm asking—why did we start calling humans with stigmas 'heroes' in the first place?"
A hush fell over the room.
The ticking of the classroom clock grew thunderous in the silence. No one dared raise their hand.
"...Is the question really that difficult?"
"..."
They all knew Professor Lucas's reputation. The Bloodthirsty Hound didn't ask questions expecting easy answers. No cadet in their right mind wanted to stand out—especially not during his lecture.
Eventually, Lucas sighed and scanned the room.
"Then I'll pick someone."
His gaze landed on an unfortunate soul.
"Cadet Albert."
"Why is it always me?! Why me again?!"
Albert bolted upright, half in panic, half in protest, waving his arms like a man sentenced to death.
"I don't know the answer! And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you!"
"Oh? Is that so?"
Lucas raised an eyebrow and casually reached into his coat. He produced a familiar item—an ominously large bottle of the "health juice" he had proudly introduced during Mental Discipline class.
Albert visibly paled.
"Did you know this juice is also said to clear the mind and improve memory?"
"I-It's because of the Five Great Heroes!" Albert shouted in panic. "Five hundred years ago, the ones who sealed the Demon God were called heroes! That's why the title stuck—to honor those who sacrificed their lives for humanity! Ever since then, anyone with a stigma has been called a 'hero'!"
Lucas smiled and patted Albert on the shoulder.
"Well done."
Albert looked visibly relieved—until the professor added:
"But that's not the answer I was looking for."
"...Excuse me?"
Returning to the front of the class, Lucas leaned on the lectern, his eyes darker than usual.
"In two years, most of you will graduate. You'll get your certifications. People will call you heroes."
He paused.
"But that doesn't mean you are one."
The room went still.
"Just because the title is handed to you doesn't mean you've earned it."
He scanned the cadets again.
"So I'll ask once more. What do you think a hero is?"
Silence.
Then—
Clatter.
One cadet stood up.
His posture was straight. His eyes unwavering.
"A hero is someone who protects the weak—those who can't bear stigmas—and defends humanity from demons and beasts."
Lucas's lips curled into a thin, unsettling smile.
"Do you really believe that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you be willing to die to protect this so-called humanity from the remnants of the Demon God?"
"Of course!"
"Hah."
Lucas's smile vanished.
In an instant, he disappeared from the lectern—Boom!—and reappeared in front of the cadet.
His fist, glowing faintly with stigma energy, stopped inches from the cadet's face.
"AAAGH!"
The cadet tumbled back in terror, landing with a thud.
Lucas looked down at him and clicked his tongue.
"If you flinch from this, how do you expect to face death?"
"I-I was just startled..."
"No excuses."
He turned back to the class.
"Most of you are like this. You talk about protecting humanity, but when death knocks, you'll run."
Back at the lectern, he addressed them with a voice quieter, but heavier.
"Talk is cheap. So is honor."
"And I don't expect you to protect the world. Hell, I don't expect any of you to. Most 'heroes' out there aren't heroes at all—they're just people with power and a good PR team."
He paused.
"But."
His tone shifted.
"If you still want to call yourselves heroes, then remember one thing."
His gaze hardened—this time, not in disdain, but in sincerity.
"Even if you can't protect everyone, protect the people by your side."
Family. Friends. Lovers. Comrades.
"It doesn't matter who they are. It matters that they matter to you."
He looked over the cadets, his voice steady now.
"Raise your sword, not for some stranger you'll never meet. Not for a cause you don't understand. Raise it for yourself."
"Because at the end of the day, even if you can't save the world, you can save the ones close enough to hold onto."
"And that..." he said, slowly walking off the platform, "...is what it means to be a hero."
A heavy silence fell over the classroom when Professor Lucas finished his speech.
"Ahem."
Even though he gave this talk every year, the awkward hush that followed still felt unfamiliar. He cleared his throat, louder than necessary.
"Well, that's enough rambling for now. Today, we have an outdoor class!" he announced, the sudden shift in tone making several cadets jolt.
"Since next week's class is canceled due to the Sealing Festival, I'll work you all to the point of foaming at the mouth today!"
Groans erupted from every corner of the room as Professor Lucas strode out with malicious satisfaction.
After class.
The sun was beginning to dip behind Reynald Academy's towering buildings when I found him.
"Your speech was pretty impressive today," I said.
"...What are you doing here?" Professor Lucas glanced up from his paperwork, expression already suspicious.
"I came to eat. The dining hall was packed," I replied nonchalantly, setting down a coffee and sandwich on the table across from him.
Technically, I had planned to have lunch with Iris today, as usual. But the training class had left her half-unconscious. We postponed until tomorrow.
"I brought one for you too. Want to eat together?"
"You really are... Hah. Never mind." He shook his head in disbelief but sat down anyway.
He eyed the sandwich. "What kind?"
"Ham and egg."
"You've got good taste, kid."
The sandwich looked tiny in his massive hands—like a doll's prop. It disappeared in two bites.
"You've improved," he said between chews, voice casual but sharp with observation. "More than since our last spar. Especially your magic capacity. It's grown fast."
"All thanks to you, Professor."
He snorted. "Don't flatter me. I've been grinding you down for two years with no results. Then suddenly—boom—you leap forward."
I smiled quietly.
It was true. When I was the academy's weakest cadet, Lucas was the only instructor who didn't give up on me. Everyone else dismissed me as dead weight, but he kept dragging me along.
Not because he believed I'd become some prodigy.
But because he refused to let a cadet under his care rot away.
Back then, I resented him. Now, I owed him more than I could say.
'Wield your sword not for others, but for yourself,' huh?That philosophy had carried him this far. And me.
"In that sense, Professor, you're a hero."
"You..." His eyes narrowed, but then he sighed again and leaned back.
"So? Why are you really here?"
"I told you. Cafeteria—"
"Don't insult my intelligence. Your classes are over, so what are you really after, barging into my office?"
"Well... I heard something."
I took a sip of my coffee.
"About the Sealing Festival next week."
Lucas blinked. "And?"
"A friend in the magic department said Professor Bianca might not attend."
His brows twitched. "What?"
"Apparently, a cadet in her department caused a... rather serious lab incident. She's staying behind to clean up the mess. Quietly, so the kid's future isn't ruined."
Professor Lucas went silent.
So he hadn't heard yet.
He muttered, "I see..." but his shoulders drooped ever so slightly.
'Not concerned,' huh? Sure you're not.He'd probably been psyching himself up for weeks to ask her out during the festival.
"In that case, why don't you step in?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. Just go keep her company."
His face turned to stone. "...I don't know magic."
"Who said anything about helping her with work? She probably doesn't want to spend the festival buried in textbooks. Just go talk to her. Keep her company."
He scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "...She's going to be busy. It'd be weird if I showed up uninvited."
"A guy who looks like he could eat someone alive shouldn't be so shy."
"What did you just—?"
"Relax. I even prepared this for you." I handed him a paper bag.
He opened it. "...Wine?"
"One of her favorites. I bought it when I was in Valhalla City with Iris."
He stared at it like it was a holy relic.
"And I heard she likes imperial salmon salad as a snack. You can handle that, right?"
"You little rascal!"
Professor Lucas shot up, grabbing my hand in a death grip. His eyes were gleaming. Tears were actually welling in the corners.
"...You really went out of your way, huh?"
I shrugged. "Just repaying a bit of my debt."
He didn't say anything, just nodded firmly.
"Well then, I'll be on my way."
"Yeah... Thank you, Dale."
With that, I left the office.
Later that evening.
Lucas sat alone at his desk, cradling the bottle of wine in his arms like it was treasure.
"...That rascal."
A chuckle escaped his lips.
Of all the cadets under his watch, Dale Han had caused him the most trouble. He was dense, slow, weak—
—But now?
Now, he was quietly becoming someone worth betting on.
"A solid sword arm. Good instincts. Quick thinking. And now, he even plans ahead."
Lucas flipped open Dale's cadet file.
"Let's see... orphanage background. Sponsored by the Republic, but no personal patrons... Hm."
The old hound's eyes gleamed with new intent.
"...Maybe it's time I recommended that kid as my assistant."
He leaned back, still smiling.