PTSD Military Chaplain of the Academy

One day passed.

Six students came to submit their assignments in the Professor’s Office. All of them were students from the Department of Theology.

There were a total of thirty-two students in the first-year class A. Yet, twenty-six students had not yet deduced the correct answers.

The content of the assignments submitted by the theology students was exceedingly satisfactory. Most of them matched the correct answers I had in mind, and the length was also within the ten pages I had suggested.

However, that was about it. While the standard of the assignments was perfectly adequate, it felt somewhat lacking as a product of prolonged inquiry.

Yet, I was not stingy with my praise. I showered compliments on the six students from the theology department who had submitted their work. I hoped this would motivate the students who had yet to submit their assignments to strive a little harder.

And, another day passed.

With the deadline approaching, perhaps feeling anxious, the impatient students and those who had finally found their answers came to the Professor’s Office. There were as many as twenty of them.

Thanks to this, my Professor’s Office experienced a boom despite it being a day without classes. Students lined up in the hallway to submit their assignments.

Passing professors from other departments looked surprised at the scene. Considering the haggard appearance of the students, who looked like they hadn’t slept, it was not surprising.

I accepted the students’ assignments and examined them slowly. It was not easy to evaluate the assignments of twenty students, but with the help of Sofia Sub-Priest, I was able to finish before dawn.

The twenty assignments submitted by the students were somewhat less polished compared to those submitted by the theology students, but they were still sufficient to pass.

What was most satisfying was that the twenty-six assignments submitted by the students were written in various styles, with sharply contrasting opinions about their conclusions, leading to new results.

This was what I had longed for. The twenty-six assignments, all differing in content. The fact that there was not a single overlapping paragraph among those twenty-six assignments was close to miraculous.

This meant that not a single student had copied or referenced another student’s work.

They had to inquire for themselves and deduce their conclusions on their own.

Just as I intended, the students never sought anyone’s help. They wrote their assignments purely based on their own strength. Though the quality might be slightly inferior, I wanted to highly value these twenty-six assignments and applaud the students.

Up until the deadline with one day remaining, six students had yet to submit their work. Among them were Chloe, Elin, and Laura.

The assigned deadline for submitting the assignment was the start of class on Friday. In other words, the assignments needed to be submitted by 9:30 AM tomorrow.

I did not pressure the remaining six students. I simply waited for them slowly and with a relaxed heart.

To taste the ultimate flavor, one must endure the time of patience, waiting for the fruit to ripen.

And so, time flowed on.

Finally, Friday arrived.

Before classes began, six students arrived at the Professor’s Office.

With Chloe and Laura bursting in last, gasping for breath, all the students’ assignments had gathered in one place. I scanned the six assignments that I had barely had time to read through and cradled them in my arms.

There were no dropouts in the first-year A class who had failed to submit their assignments.

Today marked exactly one month since the first day of class.

* * * *

Chloe anxiously glanced at the clock. The second hand moving sluggishly today was frustrating beyond belief.

And it wasn’t just her.

All the students sitting in this classroom were staring at the wall clock in unison, looking like they wanted to kill it.

“Ugh… I think my assignment is a disaster.”

“You really just wrote down whatever came to your mind.”

“I’m definitely going to get chewed out by Professor Antorelli.”

“I didn’t even sleep last night…”

“Didn’t you submit your assignment this morning?”

“Yeah… I stayed up all night writing it, but I think I messed it up…”

How long had they been waiting, their necks stretched in anticipation?

Finally, the clock’s second hand pointed to 9:29 AM. The students swallowed hard, tensed with anticipation, mentally counting down. Chloe was the same.

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

Creak—.

The classroom door opened. The students, sitting up straight, turned their gazes to the front of the room.

Step. Step. Step.

As usual, the steady footsteps were so precise that they sounded like a metronome. They began to break the silence of the classroom. Sofia Sub-Priest, with her golden bobbed hair, waddled into the classroom after her.

After Sofia Sub-Priest climbed onto the platform with a bundle of paper, Professor Antorelli placed his theology books and the Bible on the lectern as he usually did.

“Hello, everyone.”

A greeting that was the same as always. However, today was a bit different.

“Today, we will not have a theology class.”

The students closed the books they had opened. Then, naturally, they took out their notebooks and pens, ready to take notes. The smoothness of this process was so natural that it was like watching a well-trained Pavlov’s dog.

Once the students were ready to take notes, Professor Antorelli continued.

“Instead, I’ve prepared a slightly different class for today.”

At that moment, Sofia Sub-Priest began to move. She distributed papers to all the students in the classroom.

Dazed, the students in the front row accepted the bundle of paper that was handed to them and passed it along to those in the back.

Soon, all thirty-two students sitting in the classroom had a piece of paper distributed by Sofia Sub-Priest. The paper was a blank sheet with nothing written on it.

“Please leave the paper aside for now. We will use it shortly.”

Hearing Professor Antorelli’s words, the students carefully placed the pristine white paper on their desks, making sure not to smudge it.

Professor Antorelli, seeing that, nodded in satisfaction and began to walk slowly around the platform.

“Everyone, have you ever thought about this?”

About what?

Before the students could ponder, Professor Antorelli’s voice pierced their ears.

“During the month leading up to submitting this assignment, did any of you ever have a valid question that was initiated by you?”

All the students tilted their heads. A valid question initiated by themselves?

It sounded like a nonsensical statement. It would be accurate to say they did not understand it.

“You’ve all worked diligently, even suffering like blood and bone to enter the Caldera Imperial Academy. Of course, there might be students who did not have to struggle to that extent, born with inherent advantages.”

However, here was one thing.

Professor Antorelli raised a finger. The students stared at it as if entranced.

“In all your lives, have you ever explored something on your own, resolved it, and been satisfied with the results you achieved through your own efforts?”

Listening to Professor Antorelli’s words, the students fell into thought.

Had there ever been such a moment? Really? They recalled the first time they stepped into the realm of learning, the realm of cognition.

Some students remembered the time they first studied magic.

Some recalled the time they first studied theology.

Some remembered the first time they held a sword and armament, and some recalled the first time they moved a brush or pen.

“What I am asking is not simply about the experience of learning. Beyond that, I am inquiring about the experience where you chose a different path from others and acted on it without doubting your own autonomous thinking.”

The students rummaged through their memories again. The path of learning, in their memories, was always a path laid out by figures like teachers or parents. All they needed to do was move forward.

“Perhaps, there has never been such a moment. I assure you.”

There hadn’t been. It was indeed true.

As if under a spell, the students gradually became absorbed in Professor Antorelli’s narrative. Their obsession with the results of their submitted assignments had already faded long ago.

“Over the past month, you must have immersed yourselves in theology harder than ever before.”

That was true. All the students had thought to themselves as they wrote their assignments if they had ever immersed themselves in theology like this before.

“However, what I desired was more than just studying theology.”

Professor Antorelli walked back to the lectern after making the rounds on stage. Looking at all the students in the classroom, Professor Antorelli said.

“I have reviewed the assignments you submitted. Although I could only skim through the six assignments submitted this morning, I must say… Would you take a look at the paper that was handed out at the start of the class?”

The students turned their eyes to the paper on their desks. The still pristine white paper remained untouched on their desks. And then, Professor Antorelli’s words continued.

“Let’s play a simple game.”

A game? Suddenly?

The students’ confusion spread like paint. While many tilted their heads in confusion, Professor Antorelli spoke.

“From now on, when I give instructions for any action, you will act according to the words given. Understood?”

It was a simple statement. When Professor Antorelli gives an action instruction, follow it. With no student failing to understand, everyone in the classroom nodded.

“Then, first, please fold the paper once.”

Fold the paper once?

That was an utterly perplexing statement. It could be interpreted in many ways.

However, no student asked, “How specifically do we fold it?” The students quietly followed Professor Antorelli’s instructions.

Some folded it horizontally in half, some folded it vertically in half, some made triangles by folding it diagonally, and some folded the corners haphazardly. Watching those students, Professor Antorelli spoke.

“Have you all finished folding? If so, please fold it once more in that state.”

The students followed his words again. The once pristine white paper was now folded twice and reduced in size.

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

The paper slowly began to lose its original form. After the strange folding, an unidentified shape with jagged edges appeared on the desk as all the corners of the paper were torn.

“If you’ve all finished, please unfold the paper now.”

The ragged paper was opened. The completely unfolded paper had long since lost its original shape. In fact, one student even accidentally tore the paper halfway while trying to unfold it.

“If everyone has unfolded it, now look at the papers made by the other students around you.”

The students laughed as they observed each other’s papers. Some students had hilariously torn papers, while others had neatly folded papers as if measured with a ruler.

However, there was no student with the same shape of paper as anyone else. Observing the students’ results, Professor Antorelli spoke.

“If any of you made a paper that looks exactly like someone else’s, please raise your hand.”

No one raised their hand. The final appearance of the paper each student had created was entirely different. Seeing these students, Professor Antorelli shrugged his shoulders.

“Isn’t it strange, everyone?”

The students looked at Professor Antorelli. Strange? What could possibly be strange? Professor Antorelli continued speaking.

“I clearly gave everyone the same instructions. Why then are all the results different?”

…

Silence. Stillness. Calmness. All the students in the classroom did not utter a sound.

Indeed, it was true. Professor Antorelli clearly gave everyone the same instructions. Yet, why did the results differ?

The students stared blankly at their papers. To those students, Professor Antorelli said.

“You must have broken through a wall while working on your assignments. No, to say you smashed it would not be an exaggeration.”

That was true. During Professor Antorelli’s assignment, all the students felt a sense of having overcome some unknown barrier. They had grown in some way; that was certain.

“Do you know what it is?”

I don’t know. So the students maintained their silence.

“What is most surprising is that among the assignments you submitted to me, remarkably, there were no overlapping contents whatsoever.”

“…!”

“Even though I presented the same assignment as you had just completed.”

The students looked around. They made eye contact with the students sitting in front, behind, and beside them.

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

The students sensed it. This was already moving toward something beyond just a class.

Thus, they concentrated intensely on Professor Antorelli’s words.

The students, in response, received the final blow from Professor Antorelli.

“Out of the thirty-two assignments placed on the lectern here, there isn’t a single incorrect assignment.”

This meant that every student had written the correct answer.

And astonishingly, all those answers were different.

The single problem presented by Professor Antorelli. The reason people, apart from priests, cannot use divine power and the solution to that issue.

This meant that an incredible thirty-two different answers were derived for this single question.

A thrill coursed through the students’ bodies. The mystery of divine power, which could be called the highest conundrum, had revealed itself in no less than thirty-two different forms over the past month.

“The true purpose of this assignment. It was not the pure engagement in theology or the essence of using divine power, nor anything else.”

And the students finally began to understand. They realized that what had solidly shaped their academic journey was a rigid, standardized learning milestone.

“To inquire for themselves and to deduce an answer on their own. It becomes a correct answer, even without walking a path that has been paved by others.”

That they had been the greatest obstacle in this assignment, confined within this notion of self.

“Simply, that was it.”

And the unknown wall they had crossed while completing the assignment—.

“Ah…”

Was themselves.

Professor Antorelli took out the Bible. His soft, low voice resonated throughout the classroom.

“Peter thought that all flesh is like grass, and all the fruit that grows on that grass is the same, and lamented, saying…”

When the Lord created the world, each nation’s roots were different, and their foundations varied. How could the Lord bring this iniquity upon them?

To this, the Lord’s first servant, Paul, replied.

“That is your trial and wall, and it is to lead you toward the blessed path of the Lord. Love yourself, and love your neighbor, while ensuring that your thoughts do not stray from the Lord’s will.”

That would be enough.

“1 Peter, chapter 5, verse 32.”

Professor Antorelli closed the Bible and looked around the classroom. The students, with blank expressions, gazed at him.

The students had finally discovered the true name of the nameless realization and its mystery.

“Congratulations, everyone.”

What Professor Antorelli had hoped for in this class was. The significance of the word blessed and blessed.

“You have gained the greatest grace of the Lord and the embodiment of the most radiant wisdom—the freedom of human will.”

To think for oneself and act in accordance. To reclaim the pure and autonomous thought that humanity inherently possesses, without being defeated by evil.

That was simply it.

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