Nolan raised both hands now. "Calm down! Please! I don't condone violence, okay? You're going too far—"
But he was met with more rage.
"They mocked our class!"
"They ridiculed you and us, sir!"
"They think we're nothing just because we train differently!"
"They don't deserve mercy!"
"I'm not letting my family name be spat on by these charlatans!"
This is bad. Real bad. What do I do?!
Nolan wiped sweat from his forehead. His mind raced for a solution.
Something—anything—to reroute this disaster.
Then, an idea sparked. A long shot. A complete gamble.
But maybe… just maybe…
"Why are you all so angry? Isn't it better to ace them all in the assessment and slap the truth in their faces?"
The students paused.
Then they all dismissed what he just said.
"But teacher, we're just at the initial Fourth Stage!"
"Worse, some of us are still in the early second Stage!"
"They've got students at the fifth or even Sixth Stage!"
Nolan was stunned. He remembered that these students had not trained in their Knighthood immediately because of their Mana Conjurer path. Meanwhile, the students in other classes had focused on Knighthood their entire lives.
What should he say now?
His students were adamant about causing bloodshed. And it was going to be his fault.
"If you all are worried about the assessment tomorrow," Nolan began, trying to keep his voice calm and confident, "and about the power gap between you and those so-called 'elite' students…"
The shouting subsided slightly.
"…then don't be. Because you don't need to worry about your level gaps."
That caught them off guard.
"What do you mean?"
"How are we supposed to compete with that?!"
"Teacher, what are you saying?!"
Nolan gulped hard and nodded. "Yes, I know. Their raw stages are higher. But that doesn't matter—not in my Arcane Realm."
The students fell silent again.
"My Realm," Nolan continued, "doesn't follow the normal rules. You've seen it. It's designed for combat, tactics, reflexes—or whatever staged advantages."
He began pacing, arms behind his back now like a seasoned strategist.
"In other Arcane Realms, higher stage equals advantage. But not here. Here, what matters is your adaptation. Your ability to survive, to think on your feet, to move, strike, and defend like a real fighter."
He looked each of them in the eye.
"Let me make it clear: those of you who are at Initial Fourth Stage Novice Mana Knight… if you've trained seriously in my Realm earlier, I, your teacher, is sure that you can go toe-to-toe with someone at the Initial Sixth Stage. You may even win."
Gasps erupted around the room.
"Are you serious?"
"Teacher, really?"
"But… that's unheard of!"
"There's no way!"
Nolan raised a hand, firm and unwavering.
"I promise you," he said. "Your opponents may have more mana. They may have stronger aura flows. But that won't help them when they're in close quarters and can't breathe because they're disoriented from a blinding flash and a well-placed knife is two inches from their jugular."
The students looked at him, stunned.
"Are you saying… we can actually win tomorrow?" Erik asked, his voice now much quieter, like a hopeful spark in the dark.
Nolan smiled confidently, though he could feel the last remnants of his own anxiety clawing behind his ribs.
"Yes. I'm saying… you have everything it takes to beat them. And once you do?"
He paused.
"They'll never laugh at Class 33 again."
Silence.
Then—
"…Are you sure, Teacher?" one of them asked quietly, almost like they couldn't believe it.
All eyes turned to him again.
Nolan locked eyes with them all and, with the full force of fabricated confidence, declared:
"I am sure."
However, despite Nolan's dramatic speech, the room didn't erupt in triumphant cheers as he expected. The students didn't nod with confident smiles or thank him for his guidance.
Instead, they frowned.
Their brows furrowed. Their expressions shifted from awe to doubt. The atmosphere turned heavy.
"Teacher…" Ruvin spoke first, calm and respectful, but with an edge of disbelief, "We understand your intention to motivate us, but… surpassing two full levels is… unheard of."
Another student added, "Yes. Even if your Arcane Realm is unique, even if our fighting instincts are trained sharper than others, level gap is level gap. The stages exist for a reason."
"And the difference between the Fourth Stage and the Sixth Stage," someone else said, "is like a child trying to break a stone wall with a twig."
Nolan's smile stiffened slightly.
"I'm telling you, you can do it—"
"Teacher," Calien interrupted this time, raising a hand. His voice was firmer now. "With all due respect, I come from a Knight family. My uncle was a Mid-tier Mana Knight. Even he never dared say he could beat someone two stages above him."
"He's right!" another student shouted.
"No offense, Teacher, but that just sounds like a bedtime story!"
"It's impossible, even with talent!"
"Just because we survived your Realm doesn't mean we're invincible!"
"Beating someone above us is already rare. Two levels?! That's suicide!"
The noise escalated. What started as respectful doubts grew louder, more emotional. Some were pacing. Some gripped their desks. Others shook their heads, as if rejecting the entire possibility.
Until—
"We want proof!" one student cried out, standing.
Another joined in. "We want proof!"
And then, like a tide, it swelled.
"WE WANT PROOF! WE WANT PROOF!"
Nolan froze.
Shit! Shit, shit, SHIT! he screamed in his head.
He was in a corner. A dead end.
He had made a bold, wild statement—and now they wanted him to back it up. And he couldn't. He couldn't conjure a Sixth-Stage student to fight them. He couldn't demonstrate the combat advantage they supposedly had. If they found out he was bluffing, his whole image would collapse.
Think! THINK, NOLAN!
His eyes darted around the room in panic until they landed—on the knife he was casually playing with. It was a reflex, a habit. He twirled it lazily in his fingers, left and right, almost absentmindedly.
But someone noticed.
"Sir…" one student said, staring at the blade.
"What is that?" another asked.
Nolan blinked.
He looked at them. They weren't looking at him—they were all staring at the knife. Dozens of eyes, wide and curious.
He paused, and then, slowly, raised the blade to eye level.
It glinted under the class's overhead lights.
Calien narrowed his eyes, stepping forward. "Wait a minute…"
He gasped.
"Isn't that the Pathogen Knife?!"
Nolan stiffened. "Huh?"
"The one we used in the Arcane Realm! Against the infected!"
Others gasped. Heads whipped down instinctively as students checked their sides, their waists, their belts.
And then—
"WHAT?!"
"I HAVE IT!"
"IT'S HERE! IT'S ON ME!"
"NO WAY!"
"IT CAME OUT WITH US?!"
The room exploded.
One student pulled the knife out, staring at it with trembling hands.
Another held it up in the air, laughing hysterically.
"It's real! It's real!! It's not just data!"
"I brought an item from the game world of teacher Nolan's special arcane realm!"
"IT CROSSED OVER! THIS IS INSANE!"
A girl jumped up and down, both hands clutching the knife to her chest.
"I'VE GOT ONE TOO!! AHHHHHHH!"
Students were screaming, some rolling on the floor in disbelief.
Others ran up to their classmates, tapping their weapons together in excitement, verifying that they were holding the same tool. Some just held it up with tears in their eyes, overwhelmed with emotion.
"WE HAVE IT TOO!"
"PATHOGEN KNIFE!"
"REAL! IT'S REAL!"
Nolan, standing at the center of the storm, was still processing.
Wait... why do they have the Pathogen Knife? That was supposed to be MY reward for clearing the third floor…
And then it hit him.
The game. The system. It gave the item to the entire party. They ALL got the drop! FUCK! They're benefiting from the system again!
But even in his panic, his mind pivoted fast.
He smiled. Calm, sly, deliberate.
He twirled the knife again and said, "Ah… yes. That's the same Pathogen Knife."
The students turned to him, stunned.
"I gave it to all of you," Nolan said smoothly, "as a gift for clearing the third floor of my Arcane Realm. I had it coded into the simulation to become a reward. Congratulations."
"WHAT?!"
"IT WAS A REWARD?!"
"FROM YOU, TEACHER?!"
They began cheering again.
"TEACHER GAVE IT TO US!"
"THIS IS CRAZY!"
"YOU'RE THE BEST!"
The students crowded around Nolan, some raising their blades in triumph, others bowing slightly in thanks, some spinning around with joy.
"THANK YOU, TEACHER!"
"WE'LL NEVER FORGET THIS!"
"YOU MADE US COOL!"
"THE KNIFE IS INSANE!"
"I LOOK LIKE AN ASSASSIN WITH COOL DAGGER!"
"IT EVEN HAS POISON EFFECTS!"
"THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!!"
Nolan raised his hand, pretending to be humble, but inside, he was trying not to explode from the sheer whiplash of fear and relief.
Damn, I pulled that off… I actually pulled that off!
Then Calien stepped forward again. He looked straight at Nolan, eyes serious and voice proud.
"Teacher… I don't care what anyone says. You're a genius."
The other students nodded instantly.
"You made this training Realm."
"You rewarded us with real combat items."
"You even gave us techniques and taught us strategy!"
"You treated us like warriors—not students!"
"We'll follow you anywhere, Teacher!"
Nolan's chest puffed up, slightly against his will.
Calien smiled and turned to his classmates.
"Alright, everyone… It seems our Teacher is always true to his word. And if that's the case, then what he claims about the level gaps might be true… so tomorrow…"
His tone turned fiery, sharp.
"We don't need to use our path of Mana Conjurers. We don't need tricks. We'll slap those arrogant bastards from the other classes using only our KNIGHTHOOD!"
The room exploded.
"SLAP THEM ALL!"
"SLAP THEM ALL!"
"SLAP THEM ALL!"
Nolan stood at the center of the storm of voices, his students screaming in fury and joy.
This… might actually work, he thought.
And for the first time since the lesson began, he smiled for real. Although, it was awkward.