The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 72: The Perfect Mentor

“Oh? Right… you arrived late and haven’t been assigned a mentor.”The short, bald Professor Bard hesitated, stroking his chin.

“Why not join Professor Moriarty’s class?”

The moment he said it, Aiwas knew Bard had some issue.

Aiwas was confident.

His performance was stellar, and he saw clear fondness in Bard’s eyes.

He’d maxed out his favor, maybe even enough to be invited as a teaching assistant.

Taking a student was far easier than that.

A smoother talker might’ve changed the subject.

But Aiwas was greedy—when something was within reach, he wouldn’t let go.

“…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It wouldn’t look good, and other students might keep their distance.”

Aiwas pulled the blanket over his knees.

Hands on his lap, he leaned forward slightly, speaking politely but earnestly.

“Like my older brother Edward—he didn’t even attend Royal Law University for the same reason.”

“In a school setting, being too close to family isn’t great for personal growth or avoiding conflicts with acquaintances.”

“…True.”

Bard nodded, agreeing.

“And James is on a long leave, no telling when he’ll return. Besides…”

The old man’s eyes flicked briefly to Aiwas’s legs.

Had Aiwas not pulled the blanket, Bard might’ve forgotten his condition.

Aiwas clearly needed care—Lily alone, being his age, wasn’t enough.

To old Bard, these students were still kids.

He quickly averted his gaze politely.

He didn’t know why Aiwas used a wheelchair or if he’d recover.

If even Moriarty’s priests couldn’t heal him with Illumination, it might be serious.

Lingering on it could seem disrespectful or hurtful.

Aiwas caught the glance and guessed Bard’s thoughts.

This confirmed the old man’s gentle, considerate nature.

[All the more reason I can’t let him go!] Aiwas thought.

“Is there some difficulty, Professor?”

Aiwas spoke sincerely.

“I love studying imperial history, and you’re the top scholar in the field!”

In truth, Aiwas didn’t know Bard before.

But as a professor at Royal Law University, he had to be top-tier academically.

Aiwas kept his praise vague, avoiding specific subfields, so it couldn’t miss—unless Bard truly knew nothing about imperial history, a slim chance.

If that happened, tough luck.

But Aiwas’s luck held.

Bard rubbed his hands, beaming proudly.

“Indeed, when it comes to Hellesar Empire history, no one knows more than me.”

“Yes,” Aiwas pivoted smoothly.

“I think we should study the Star Antimony Kingdom more—they’re a bigger threat than Iris.”

“Exactly.”

Bard nodded gravely.

“Many in Avalon see Star Antimony as dangerous and evil due to their legal demonology.”

“But in my view, their ‘practical alchemy,’ now losing ground, is what we should focus on.”

Aiwas knew Bard had real expertise.

He happily followed Bard’s lead.

“Yes, their alchemy isn’t about understanding the world anymore—it’s about making ‘profitable’ things.”

“This shift gave alchemy natural popularity.”

“No longer are alchemists robed royals with huge imperial budgets, researching obscure, incomprehensible things, occasionally producing baffling but powerful items.”

“Now, it could be a barely literate villager running an alchemy shop, selling small, practical products, maybe even inventing something useful by accident.”

“They’re not like orthodox alchemists.”

“They don’t aim far on the Balance path; they enter the superhuman world just to earn money.”

“Well said!”

Bard nodded appreciatively, clapping in delight.

He added eagerly, “I think this is Valentin I’s alternate take on the Balance path—money as the measure of all things, another way to understand the world, not through alchemy but economics, technology, and public needs…”

He rambled on, and Aiwas nodded, tossing in affirmations.

From Aiwas’s perspective, Star Antimony could realistically conquer the continent.

Valentin I’s vision far outstripped Avalon and Iris.

The Duchy of Narcissus, with its many casters, was the only real threat.

But Star Antimony had already crushed it.

Star Antimony’s delay in annexing Iris was purely due to internal path struggles.

Terrifying demon scholars vied for influence against practical alchemists, while noble infighting blocked folk alchemists’ advancement.

Haina hesitated nearby.

If Aiwas couldn’t find a mentor, it’d be trouble.

Her swordsmanship instructor couldn’t mentor him.

Maybe she could ask her mentor to recommend someone else?

“…You’re right,” Aiwas said.

“Avalon’s peace stems from its stable superhuman community.”

“The Queen’s 47th Amnesty, accepting other paths, keeps us from falling behind in specific skills while maintaining Authority as dominant and favoring select paths to prevent power grabs…”

“Thankfully, Her Majesty realized this,” Aiwas sighed.

“If Avalon delayed reforms by a decade, it might’ve been too late.”

[It’s already too late,] he thought, but didn’t dare say.

Though Avalon and Star Antimony were enemies with rising tensions, Avalon didn’t truly see Star Antimony as a crisis.

Star Antimony’s worse relations with Iris overshadowed this.

Having reclaimed the Black Eagle and Narcissus Duchies, Star Antimony could restore the empire’s original borders by taking Iris.

Improved Avalon-Iris ties were largely due to Star Antimony’s pressure on both.

Despite their precarious position, Avalon had overly optimistic voices, some even hoping to resume trade with Star Antimony for their surplus goods, leveraging Avalon’s market and gold reserves.

As long as trade continued, Star Antimony wouldn’t invade, they thought.

As for the royal family—

Some knights wished there was no monarchy at all.

“…I think it might already be too late,” Bard muttered softly.

“We’ve fallen too far behind…”

—Huh?

Aiwas froze, staring at the professor in disbelief.

[Is this old man’s insight that sharp?]

“Haha, don’t look at me like that. Just thinking aloud…”

Bard waved it off, chuckling, and changed the subject.

“I don’t usually take bachelor’s students. I’m not great at looking after people.”

“I’ve been a professor for decades, but only mentored students back in Milton. None since coming to Glass Island.”

“Of course, I take graduate students, but… you’re not quite suitable.”

[Really?]

[You praise me like that, then say I’m “not suitable”?]

Now genuinely curious, Aiwas pressed, “Why not?”

“You may know me as a historian,” Bard answered earnestly, “but I’m actually an archaeologist.”

“You and the Individual Tactics students only take . I teach it for three months in the first semester for the third to sixth departments, and you’re almost done.”

“Next semester, I teach , , , and for second- and third-year humanities, plus an elective in .”

“And in the third semester, I’m not at school. I go abroad for archaeology with my graduate students.”

“You have classes, so you can’t come. But staying without a mentor is no good either. Who’d look after you?”

Bard sighed.

“I really like you as a student… but I can’t take you. It’d be irresponsible.”

Aiwas paused, then felt a surge of joy.

[This is perfect!]

[A semester away every year?]

[I can do whatever I want!]

[And archaeology abroad?]

[I could access other nations’ ancient ruins early? That’s amazing!]

(Chapter End)