This World Needs a Hero

Chapter 7

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Rosenstark’s classes were divided into two types, major courses called ‘Unir’ and liberal arts courses named ‘Finement.’

You could enroll in several Finement courses each semester without any issue. However, when it came to Unir, students were required to choose only one.

This led to a significant difference in the allocated credits, class hours, and importance between the two.

Typically, the authority to open Unir courses was given to seasoned professors whose abilities had been proven.

Naturally, there was much more support for Unir than Finement.

Yussi assigned me as the instructor for Unir, precisely because I requested it. It was more advantageous to handle Unir courses than Finement for cultivating talents more closely.

As the pre-briefing proceeded with Finement, my turn was yet to come.

“Hmm, everyone seems more promising than expected this year. It’s rewarding to have a generous budget allocation,”

Yussi chuckled with satisfaction. As she spoke, professors were giving their all to the briefing, bringing their expertise to the stage.

“By structuring the initiation ceremony like this… we can operate magic more efficiently and precisely by concentrating mana!”

The professor from the Department of Mysticism, who had just stepped onto the stage, was intricately sculpting a large ice lump with wind magic.

The sleeves of his robe fluttered, indicating the concentration of mana he had drawn.

Amidst the various performances unfolding on the stage, Yussi whispered quietly in my ear,

“It’s about time to make an impression, don’t you think?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Would you enlighten us about the classes, or, in other words, the briefings you’ve prepared?”

I looked at her. The indigo eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“You claimed not to have made any demands on the administration. I’ve been curious since last week, nearly going insane.”

Others, including the professors, also glanced at us with curious eyes.

Understandable. Since I haven’t communicated any requirements or requested materials for the demonstration, they must all be wondering and expecting something.

I simply replied.

“I plan to show it as it is.”

“As it is…?”

Yussi tilted her head with a puzzled expression.

“I have no idea.”

With a perplexed look, Yussi playfully tilted her head.

The other professors, who were preparing to go on the briefing stage, stated that the purpose of standing on the briefing stage was to attract more competent students.

However, my goal was different.

“…Rather, I need to filter them out.”

Chasing after a glittering reputation, I prepared a stage to dismiss the beggars who aspired to become the disciple of a Hero in pursuit of only fleeting fame.

I glanced back at the platform.

“Next is the briefing for Professor Laveen Hawk’s lecture, ‘Understanding the Battlefield.'”

It was my turn next.

There was no more time to waste on conversation. Ignoring the countless gazes, I headed toward the backstage waiting room.

* * *

The empty waiting room was quiet, a space detached from the outside noise. The atmosphere reminded me of the hideouts where I had spent the past few years.

“Fuu….”

The ‘fake’ took a deep breath, closing his eyes. In the dim darkness, everything surrounding him quickly became faint.

The professor’s voice echoing from the podium, the occasional cheers from the audience, and the sensation of sweat running down his back all blurred away.

That’s when the contemplation began.

‘Why did I choose to follow the Hero?’

Initially, it was a necessity. But soon, it became more than that. If not, he would have gone his own way after the Hero’s death. Not risking his life on a dangerous tightrope like this.

“….”

He recalled memories with the ‘real.’

Ted Redymer, the man behind the persona that people didn’t know about. He had heard and seen it firsthand.

What thoughts ran through the mind of the human Ted Redymer as he crossed hundreds of battlefields and faced thousands of snipers?

What despair did he confront?

These were truths that couldn’t be found in a bard’s ballad or a storybook. They were the trials that were too harsh for one human to bear, and the process through which he was forged into the savior of humanity.

Knowing all of this, admiration was the only response. The desire to follow in his footsteps and share this experience with the ‘Hero candidates’ naturally arose. To achieve that, immersion was crucial. Intense, unwavering immersion.

“….”

Past memories and the emotions derived from them slowly etched and permeated into the fake.

A moment that felt fleeting passed.

The fake, or rather ‘Ted Redymer,’ opened his eyes with a strong sense of unity.

“Fuu….”

It seemed he had kept his eyes closed longer than expected.

As the curtain rose, the stage lights that streamed in felt exceptionally bright. The resonant voice of Kasim echoed.

[Thank you for waiting so long!]

[The Hero who will become the savior of humanity and ascend as a legend! The pride of Rosenstark, Professor Ted Redymer!]

[We present the lecture ‘Extreme’ by Professor Ted Redymer!]

Everything was ready. Perhaps the audience’s expectations for him weren’t about showcasing divine swordsmanship or anything beyond his abilities. But in one aspect, he could confidently present himself.

‘Show them the Hero.’

He walked toward the stage. Everyone was waiting for him.

* * *

As the pre-event progressed, the enthusiasm continued to rise. Both new and current students were extremely excited.

‘Wow, is this Rosenstark? Truly living up to its reputation.’

‘Will we be learning under such people for the next four years? We can grow a lot.’

‘Oh… Our professor is completely on fire.’

They were undoubtedly among the continent’s top scholars.

However, when professors who had dedicated decades to a single field showcased their work, it was overwhelming.

When the students’ expectations and excitement reached their peak, the event pamphlet had only one page left.

An entire page dedicated to just one person. All eyes lingered on it for quite some time.

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– Ted Redymer Class: Unir

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A plain name. An unimaginable lecture title, with no expectation of what it would teach.

Compared to other subjects with rough outlines or detailed course plans attached, it seemed arrogantly unprepared. But no one raised any objections. There was only a sense of anticipation.

‘…Ted Redymer is the assigned professor. Is this a dream or reality?’ The sourc𝗲 of this content nov(𝒆l)bi((n))

The Hero who defeated the demon king jumping into teaching the next generation—except for himself, no one could have known.

The expectation of being able to learn from a Hero who defeated the demon king filled the vast auditorium without any room to spare.

Even geniuses who hadn’t considered enrollment due to Rosenstark’s unimpressive professors were rushing in.

‘It’s even a Unir class.’

The rumor was that not only could you take the course, but you could continue learning from the Hero beyond a single semester.

‘This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.’

Starting as an ordinary soldier and ending up as the savior of humanity. For anyone trained to fight with a sword, bow, staff, or any weapon to dream of reaching such a position was common.

And now, that opportunity has opened up.

Ambitious geniuses eagerly seized it.

‘If I can become his disciple…’

Becoming not only a member of the Dawn Knights, humanity’s savior, but also being considered as the next Hero was no longer just a dream.

‘If only I could become his disciple…’

Of course, in the past, it might have been a risky career choice.

However, having defeated the Demon King once and brought humanity’s victory within reach, the potential glory seemed much greater than the risks.

To achieve that, one first had to overcome the immense competition.

‘Isn’t a total enrollment of around thirty too much!’

The usual Unir class capacity was well over a hundred. With an unusually low number this time, students were anxious.

“I can’t even compete with ordinary skills.”

“How do they choose based on criteria?”

“Shh, just wait quietly. Professor Redymer will explain soon.”

The darkened stage was as dark as the night sea. Students stared beyond it, their expectations like waves. Even those using magic to enhance their vision were present.

At a certain moment, with each person’s anticipation rising like waves, a sound echoed.

Thud!

Bright light illuminated the stage.

Students shouted in excitement, ‘He’s here!’

Thump!

The heavy footsteps came first.

The Hero slowly ascended the stage.

Surprisingly, it was an ordinary entrance. Ordinary footsteps. An ordinary expression. His gaze was unwaveringly directed at the center of the stage.

Breaking the oppressive silence and cutting through the pouring gaze, he stood there.

In front of the audio amplifier.

“Hello. I’m Ted Redymer, in charge of ‘Extreme.'”

The audience realized belatedly.

That nothing was prepared on the stage for the demonstration.

‘What’s this? Why is he barehanded?’

His appearance was in stark contrast to the massive ice blocks, demonstration monsters, or even the blackboard brought by other professors.

The only thing the Hero had was on his back.

A greatsword.

The audience’s attention naturally shifted in that direction.

‘Black Hope…’

As famous as its owner, a sword that had turned black from countless demon blood.

Hence, the Hero’s treasured weapon earned the nickname Black Hope.

The Hero made a deliberate gesture and drew the sword.

‘Surely not, right? Is he going to demonstrate swordsmanship?’

The audience blinked, watching the powerful sword creating a spectacle.

The swordsmanship of the Hero, known as the strongest swordsman, was legendary.

Even the contemporary sword masters had been unable to surpass him.

While it was a pity that there was no target to showcase its destructive power, it was sure to be worth watching.

“Uh…”

But, betraying everyone’s expectations, the Black Hope remained sheathed.

“Wait, what….”

The massive sword plunged reversed into the stage floor.

The Hero, without holding the sword, simply looked at the audience.

It was a perplexing action.

The audience couldn’t stir, waiting for his next words with puzzled expressions.

The Hero’s mouth slowly opened.

“I don’t have anything specific to show you.”

People were audibly questioning.

What does that mean? He doesn’t want to showcase anything in the presentation?

However, the shock was not over yet.

“I only have the truth to offer.”

The Hero discarded his cloak.

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