Lord of the Truth

"Enrolling under me just because I never show up?!" Robin frowned deeply, his expression tightening with confusion and disbelief.

"To understand that, you first need to know there are many types of students at the academy, each driven by different goals and circumstances…" Shaddad's tone turned serious and instructive. "There are students from relatively poor families who want to elevate themselves and their households—these are the majority of the diligent, hard-working students here. Then there are those with high affinity and rare, natural talents, admitted on full scholarships due to their immense potential. And finally, the children of extremely wealthy and powerful families who came just to say they once studied at a prestigious stellar academy during their youth, as a status symbol."

"…Among all those, you somehow manage to combine the two most financially and socially opposite categories!" Shaddad spoke with conviction and a touch of amusement, then accepted the sandwiches and drink from the cafeteria staff with a wide, satisfied grin.

"We hope they're to your liking, Professor Shaddad!" the blue-eyed girl smiled brightly, her face glowing with admiration.

"Ahaha! Any food will be to my liking!" he immediately shoved the entire first sandwich into his mouth without hesitation, clearly savoring it.

"Go on." Robin spoke impatiently, his brows still slightly furrowed. "How exactly did I 'combine opposing categories' when I haven't done a single thing or made any effort?"

"I'll explain, I'll explain..." Shaddad struggled to swallow the large bite of sandwich before continuing, "First, let's talk about the poor students. They barely afford the academy fees. Those fees only cover their stay on campus, their basic living costs, and limited access—about 20%—to that legendary library where you saw me earlier, and a few public lectures every then and there. But if they want instructors, personal training, or direct guidance, well—each teacher has a fixed subscription fee, based on their status."

"...The value of this subscription is either determined by the teacher themselves or set by the academy based on that teacher's historical performance, experience, and success rate with past students. The more famous and effective the teacher, the more expensive their yearly subscription. Take Professor Barok, for example—his fee is higher than the academy's tuition itself, even though he only shows up once or twice a year to give a single lecture or host a session!"

He then gestured directly toward Robin. "As for you, you're the only instructor who doesn't have a fee set yet. That, naturally, attracted a number of poor students to register under your name, hoping—praying even—that one day, their mysterious teacher might appear and give them at least one free lecture. In the meantime, they continue their self-learning through the library, study in silence, and support each other in their dorms. Being affiliated with you doesn't cost them anything—at the very least, they can proudly tell their families that they are followers of a true academy professor."

"....." Robin's frown softened slightly, and he turned his face away, visibly contemplating the idea. "Sounds like you're trying to flatter me and manipulate me into teaching them something."

"Hehe, I'm only telling the truth, nothing more. Those boys and girls holding books in your lecture hall every day? They're the ones I'm talking about, the ones hoping you'll show up." Shaddad took a bite of another sandwich, then pointed toward Robin with a third one in hand. "But you might change your opinion when you hear about the other half of your students—the ones with very different motivations."

Robin turned back toward him with growing curiosity. "Who are they?"

"They're the lazy ones you found sleeping in the back rows," Shaddad said while stuffing the third sandwich into his mouth, speaking through full cheeks as crumbs spilled slightly. "Most of them are children of millennial emperors or ancient aristocracies. They already have everything—resources, reputation, and security. They came to the Stellar Academy not to learn, but simply to gain additional prestige as elite graduates and to make high-level connections with others from the same tier. Of course, many from that group actually work hard, striving to meet their families' expectations and forge their own powerful futures."

"...But some just want to relax and drift through their academic years until they graduate quietly. And you have a few of those as well. For them, affiliating with a professor means they can report to their families that they are following someone credible, but without enduring the headaches of actual teaching, tough training, or the burden of a professor yelling at them after losing badly in competitions."

"Tsk~ I hate slackers," Robin returned to scowling, then waved his hand dismissively with irritation. "But if I were one, I'd probably do the same—follow a teacher who doesn't participate in competitions. At least they're not entirely stupid."

"No, no—you're not getting it, big brother," Shaddad waved his hands emphatically and leaned forward, raising his voice. "This has nothing to do with what you want or whether you join the competitions yourself. Competitions between students of a teacher happen anyway, whether you're present or not. They're not following you to avoid competitions—they're following you so they can withdraw without consequences or shame."

"….." Robin slowly opened his eyes wider, a flicker of seriousness appearing in his gaze. "Explain. Now."

"This is one of the academy's core policies to keep interactions and competition constantly active and engaging. About every ten years or so, a grand series of formal competitions is held to measure the progress of all students officially affiliated with professors, and to assign them rankings across the academy's internal hierarchy. This, by the way, is how the effectiveness and overall prestige of any professor is officially evaluated. The instructor who has the best-performing students and consistently secures the top ranks in these evaluations earns the right to demand an exorbitant subscription fee from new enrollees—and rest assured, there will always be wealthy students willing to pay whatever it takes for that prestige."

He continued, "That's precisely why instructors place immense, sometimes overwhelming pressure on their students during those competitive seasons. And the students who rank at the bottom? They are publicly punished in front of their peers in a variety of humiliating or disciplinary ways, depending on the professor's method. Because of that, the wealthy students who dislike combat, training, and stressful competition choose to follow you—since, no matter what their rank is, you, the absent professor, simply won't be around to care or reprimand them."

Then he seemed to recall something important, "That's also one of the key reasons the poor students tend to follow you. By registering under your name as their professor, they can legally participate alongside their classmates in the formal competitions and have their strength measured publicly. Which, well… doesn't usually end well for them, to put it kindly."

Robin's eyelid began twitching violently with barely contained rage. "Shaddad… are you saying that every ten years… those little brats enter the academy's official competitions under my name?"

"Exactly!" The bear-like man nodded firmly and enthusiastically.

Robin cracked his neck sharply, his face darkening, trying with great effort to remain calm. "It's been thirty full years… That means they've entered the competition two or maybe even three times, right? And every single time they carried the title 'Students of Robin Burton'?"

"Right. Every last one of them ranked dead last each time—hehe. Your building, by the way, has recently earned the nickname 'The Clown Gathering Hall' among the rest of the academy, ahaha!" Shaddad placed a hand over his stomach and began laughing heartily, nearly choking.

"I'm going to kill them!!" Robin slammed the table with fury and stood up in a sudden explosive motion.

"Wait!!" Shaddad quickly jumped up and grabbed Robin from behind in a bear hug. "Please calm down! They're just doing what they can to survive these incredibly tough academy years—they don't mean any disrespect to you personally."

"They are ruining the name I've been building for centuries!!" Robin shouted, trying to break free from Shaddad's grip. "Today, I'll hunt them all down, and the gates of my academic building will be shut tight—permanently!!"

"Hehe, honestly that sounds like a great idea… but you won't be able to find them to kick them out now." Shaddad laughed again, still holding onto Robin tightly in a scene that looked half-ridiculous, half-tragic. "The main event of today's grand festival is the Great Century Tournament. I'd wager all of them have already made their way to the battle arenas by now, ready to fight."

"Then I'll kill them before they step onto the stage carrying my name in disgrace once again!!"

Whoosh!

"Huh?" Shaddad blinked in surprise, realizing the person he was holding had vanished into thin air right from his arms. He stood upright, looked around, then scratched his head in confusion, "...Ooh, this might be bad..."