Academy’s PTSD Chaplain - Academy’s PTSD Chaplain chapter 21

21 – 21. Blessed and Blessed Again (4)

A day has passed.

Six students came to the professor’s office to submit their assignments. They were all theology students.

There were a total of thirty-two students in Class A of the first grade. But there were still twenty-six students who hadn’t come up with the answers yet.

The content of the assignments submitted by the theology students was satisfactory. Most of their answers matched what I had anticipated, and the length did not exceed the ten pages I had set.

However, it was just enough. In terms of the level of the assignments, it was more than sufficient, but it fell a bit short as the result of long research.

Nevertheless, I was not stingy with praise. I did not hesitate to praise the six theology students who submitted their assignments. This was to encourage those students who hadn’t submitted their assignments yet to work a little harder.

And another day has passed.

There were students who seemed anxious because there was only one day left until the deadline, and there were students who were impatient and finally found the answers. The number of students who came to the professor’s office was an astonishing twenty.

Thanks to that, my office received a lot of attention even on a day without classes. The students waiting to submit their assignments formed a line in the hallway.

Other professors from different departments passing by were surprised by the sight. It wasn’t unreasonable since the students’ enthusiasm seemed as if they couldn’t sleep, and it wasn’t a small gathering.

I accepted the students’ assignments and carefully examined them. It was not an easy task to evaluate the assignments of twenty students, but thanks to Sophia’s assistance, I was able to leave work and go home before dawn.

The assignments submitted by the twenty students were slightly less polished compared to those submitted by the theology students, but it was still above the passing line.

What was particularly satisfying was that the twenty-six assignments submitted by the students so far were written in completely different ways, and there were sharp conflicts in opinions and thoughts, leading to new results.

That was what I had been longing for. All twenty-six assignments, and their contents were completely different. The fact that there was not a single paragraph overlapping in the twenty-six assignments was truly miraculous.

In other words, it meant that not a single student had copied or referred to other students’ assignments.

They had to explore and come to conclusions by themselves.

As intended, the students never borrowed someone else’s hand. They completed their assignments solely with their own strength. Though their level of completion may lag behind a little, I wanted to evaluate these twenty-six assignments highly and give applause to the students.

And, as the deadline for the assignment approached, six students hadn’t submitted it. Among them were Cloé, Élin, and Laura.

The deadline set for the assignment was the start of Friday’s class. In other words, it meant that they had to submit the assignment by tomorrow morning at 9:30.

I didn’t rush the remaining six students. I simply waited for them patiently and leisurely.

If one wants to taste the utmost thrill, one must be able to endure the time of exhaustion while waiting for the fruit to ripen.

And so, time passed and flowed.

Finally, Friday arrived.

Before the class started, six students arrived at the professor’s office.

With Clóe and Laura rushing in last, all the students’ assignments gathered in one place. I quickly skimmed through the six assignments that I couldn’t read due to time constraints, only examining their general contents before embracing them.

In Class A of the first year, there wasn’t a single dropout who failed to submit the assignment.

It was exactly one month since the first day of class.

* * * * *

Clóe anxiously looked at the clock. The ticking hand that seemed to be flowing slowly today was unbearably resented.

And she wasn’t the only one.

At this moment, every student sitting in this lecture hall stared at the wall clock as if they were collectively intending to kill it.

“Oh no… I think I failed the assignment…”

“You just wrote anything, didn’t you?”

“I’m going to get scolded by Professor Anatolelli.”

“I couldn’t even sleep last night…”

“You didn’t submit the assignment this morning?”

“Yeah… I stayed up all night to write it, but I think I failed…”

That’s how long the students waited, breathless.

Finally, the clock pointed to 9:29 AM. The students swallowed their throats, overcome with tension, and mentally entered the countdown. Clóe was no exception.

“57 seconds… 58 seconds… 59 seconds… And…!”

The door of the lecture hall swung open.

The students, with their spines straightened, turned their gaze toward the front door.

Step. Step. Step.

Like usual, calm footsteps. The rhythm was precise, as if watching a metronome. The sound of those footsteps, piercing through the silence of the lecture hall, began to move. Sophia Bujé, with her golden short hair, followed suit and entered the lecture hall in small, quiet steps.

Sophia Bujé, holding a bundle of papers in her arms, even ascended the stage, and Professor Anatolelli placed theological books and the Bible on his desk, as always.

“Hello, everyone. Nice to see you.”

The usual greetings. However, today was a little different.

“Today, we won’t have theology class.”

The students closed their books. Then, they naturally took out their notebooks and pens, preparing for note-taking. The process was so fluid, like watching a well-trained Pavlovian dog.

After the students had prepared for note-taking, Professor Antonelli continued to speak.

“Instead, I’ve prepared a somewhat different lesson for today.”

At that moment, Sofia Busse began to move. She distributed sheets of paper to all the students in the classroom.

Perplexed students received the stack of paper from the student in the front row and continued to pass it to those behind them.

Finally, all thirty-two students in the classroom had one sheet of paper, completely blank.

“Please leave the paper aside for now. We’ll use it a little later.”

Seeing the students lay the pristine sheets of paper on their desks, Professor Antonelli nodded in satisfaction and began to pace slowly on the stage.

“Have any of you ever had a valid question about your actions?”

What?

The students listened to Professor Antonelli’s voice with a terrifying sense of unease, as it seeped into their ears.

“Have any of you ever had a valid question about your actions before experiencing this one-month period leading up to the submission of this assignment?”

All the students raised their eyebrows in confusion. A valid question about their actions?

It was an incomprehensible statement. It would be more accurate to say they didn’t understand it.

“You’ve all worked tirelessly, even to the point of blood and sweat, to be admitted to the Chaldea Royal Academy. Of course, there are students who didn’t work as diligently and were naturally ahead of others.”

But there’s one thing here.

Professor Antonelli raised one finger. The students stared at that finger as if entranced.

“Have you ever, during your entire life, pursued something on your own, solved it, and been satisfied with the results you achieved through your own efforts?”

As they heard Professor Antonelli’s words, the students fell into thought.

Had that ever happened? Really? The students recalled the moment they first stepped into the realm of learning.

Some remembered when they first studied magic.

Some remembered when they first studied theology.

Some remembered when they first grasped a sword or a staff, and some remembered when they first moved a brush and pen.

“What I’m asking is not merely an experience of learning. More than that, I’m asking about your experiences of choosing a different path from others, of walking it, and of not doubting your own independent thinking.”

The students rummaged through their memories once more. In their memories, the path of learning was always walking the path polished by figures like teachers or parents. They just had to move forward.

“Perhaps it never happened, not even once. I guarantee it.”

It hadn’t. It was true.

The students were gradually drawn into Professor Antonelli’s story as if being hypnotized. Their obsession with the results of their submitted assignments had long disappeared.

“During the past month, all of you have devoted yourselves to theology more than ever before.”

That was true. While writing their assignments, the thought had crossed their minds – had they ever been this involved in theology before?

“However, my desire was not just for you to study theology.”

Professor Antonelli turned and returned to his desk. Looking at every student in the classroom, he continued.

“I have examined the projects you have submitted. Although I was only able to read the general content of the six assignments submitted this morning… everyone, would you please look at the piece of paper that I handed out at the beginning of the class?”

The students turned their gaze towards the paper placed on their desks. It remained there, completely white and unblemished. Then, Professor Antonelli spoke again.

“Let’s play a simple game.”

A game? Suddenly?

Confusion spread among the students like spilled ink. While each of them questioned it with a puzzled expression, Professor Antonelli spoke again.

“When I give you instructions, follow them accordingly. Do you understand?”

It was a simple instruction. If Professor Antonelli requested an action, they were to comply. Understanding it well, everyone in the classroom nodded their heads.

“Then, please fold the paper once.”

Fold the paper?

It was an incredibly vague statement. The words could be interpreted in various ways.

Yet no student asked, “How exactly should we fold it?” They silently followed Professor Antonelli’s words.

Some folded it in half horizontally, some folded it in half vertically, some made a triangle by folding it diagonally, and some folded the corners randomly. Observing these students, Professor Antonelli spoke.

“Is everyone done folding? Now, fold it once more, in the same state as before.”

Once again, the students followed his instructions. The paper, which had been crisp and completely white, was now folded twice and had reduced in size.

“Now, fold it once horizontally and once vertically in its current state. Lastly, gently tear off the protruding corners of the paper.”

The paper gradually lost its original form. After being strangely folded, it now took on an indescribable shape with its torn corners placed on the desk.

“If you’re done, now unfold the paper.”

The crumpled paper unfolded. It had long since lost its original shape. Some students even accidentally tore their paper halfway while trying to unfold it.

“Now, look at the papers made by the other students around you.”

The students looked at each other’s papers and laughed. Some papers were torn in a ridiculous manner, while others were neatly folded as if measured with a ruler.

However, no one had the same shape of paper as their classmates. While observing these results, Professor Antonelli shrugged his shoulders.

“Isn’t it strange, among all of you?”

The students looked at Professor Antonelli. What was strange? Professor Antonelli continued speaking.

“I clearly issued the same instructions to everyone. Why, then, do the results differ?”

……

Stillness. Silence. Quietness. Not a single breath was audible in the classroom.

Indeed, it was true. Professor Antonelli had unquestionably given the same instructions to everyone. But why were the outcomes so diverse?

The students stared blankly at their papers. Addressing those stupefied individuals, Professor Antonelli spoke.

“While working on this assignment, each of you undoubtedly crossed a threshold. No, it’s not an exaggeration to say you shattered a wall.”

His words rang true. Throughout Professor Antonelli’s assignment, every student had felt they had transcended an unknown barrier. They had grown in some way. That much was clear.

“Do you know what that is?”

They didn’t. So the students clung to silence.

“Remarkably, among all the assignments you submitted to me, not a single one overlapped in content with another.”

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“…!”

“Just like the folded papers in front of you, I presented the same task to everyone.”

The students glanced around, making eye contact with those in front, behind, and beside them.

“It’s still too early to be surprised. Do you know what’s even more astonishing?”

The students intuited. This was already racing toward something beyond the usual class.

Therefore, they hung on every word from Professor Antonelli.

Addressing those attentive students, Professor Antonelli delivered the decisive blow.

“Here, among the thirty-two assignments laid out on the podium, not a single one is incorrect.”

In other words, every student had written the right answer.

And astonishingly, each answer was different.

The single question posed by Professor Antonelli—excluding the priests, why non-clerics couldn’t use sacred power and the solution to that problem.

The fact that thirty-two distinct solutions had been derived for this single problem meant something significant.

A shiver ran through the students’ bodies. The secret behind sacred power, touted as the most challenging puzzle on Earth, had been unveiled in various ways over the past month.

“The true purpose of this assignment. It wasn’t about delving into theology or understanding the essence of using sacred power. It was none of that.”

And finally, the students realized. They had been living with a fixed milestone of rigid, standardized learning.

“To explore on your own and derive your own answers. Even if you didn’t tread the path others had paved, that became the correct answer.”

The biggest obstacle in this assignment was their own confinement to that notion.

“That was all.”

And the invisible wall they had overcome during the assignment—

“Ah…”

He realized it was himself.

Professor Antonelli took out the Bible and began to read. The low, gentle tone echoed in the classroom.

“According to Peter’s belief, all flesh is like a tree, and the fruit that grows from the tree is the same. Therefore, he laments and says…”

When the Lord created the world, the roots of all nations were different and their foundations were different. So why did the Lord bring such wickedness upon them?

In response, the Lord’s first disciple, Paul, said,

“It is your trial and your wall, to lead you on the blessed path of the Lord. Love yourself and love your neighbor, but make sure your thoughts do not stray from the Lord’s will.”

That’s enough.

“1 Peter, 5:32.”

Professor Antonelli closed the Bible and looked around the classroom. The students with vacant expressions gazed at him.

The students had finally discovered the truth that the unknown enlightenment held.

“Congratulations, everyone.”

In this class, what Professor Antonelli wanted the students to yearn for was the meaning of being blessed and even more blessed.

“You have achieved the ultimate grace of the Lord and the embodiment of the brightest wisdom, which is the human free will.”

To think for oneself and act accordingly. To reclaim the original pure and autonomous thinking that humans possess, without succumbing to evil.

That was all.