Prejudices at 30~
As soon as class ended, students of all sorts stood up and bowed respectfully to the teacher, who simply nodded in acknowledgment without bothering to ask if anyone had any questions, not uttering a single unnecessary word. At the sound of the dismissal bell, the teacher promptly packed up the books and left.
Coleman Academy’s faculty consisted either of veteran teachers or renowned instructors whose impressive resumes were thick enough to rival their lesson plans.
This class played out as usual, with the young Divine Princesses displaying respectful facades while their minds wandered. Very few actually listened intently; most whispered to each other, with only the more patient ones managing to catch a few words before eventually finding the teacher’s explanations either too dull or unhelpful. Influenced by the general atmosphere, they too began murmuring with their peers.
While these students thought the teacher on stage was completely oblivious to their chatter, it only proved how naive they were.
These were seasoned educators with at least a decade of teaching experience. They could guess a student’s thoughts from just a slight tilt of the head or a crossed-arm gesture. How could they possibly miss the little actions going on below?
Just as the teachers often said, “Don’t think I can’t see the things you’re doing under the table. If you don’t believe me, come up here and you’ll see everything clearly.”
The teacher noticed but chose to pretend otherwise, not because he was negligent, but because he was used to the typical mindset and behavior of new students.
It was the same with every batch—without exception—especially these high-born, arrogant Divine Princesses who would let any teachings from the teacher in one ear and out the other.
No one understood educating Divine Princesses better than the teachers of Coleman Academy.
There was no need for special treatment—just speak plainly. With these hotheaded young ones, every word was to the point, without wasting a single sentence. And soon, they wouldn’t even need to lift a finger. Reality itself would come crashing down on these new Divine Princesses, giving them the beating they so richly deserved.
Fresh Divine Princesses were often unruly and troublesome; some even disregarded their elders, but in Coleman Academy, by their second or third year, such students mysteriously disappeared. Care to guess why?
Coleman’s teachers had seen it all: conflicts within teams due to excessive demands for privilege on the part of some Princesses. They were experts in dealing with this.
If you couldn’t even manage basic social interactions after enrolling in Coleman, it would indicate your inability to learn. And if you couldn’t adapt, it would be best for you to go back from whence you came. They wouldn’t keep you around.
Divine Princesses were treasured in all academies, and Coleman was no exception. But Coleman had an ironclad rule: Quality over Quantity. No matter how gifted you were, if your team dismissed you and you couldn’t find a new one, you were bound to be expelled.
Thus, the veteran teachers weren’t in a hurry to discipline this batch of Divine Princesses. Someone—or something else—would soon appear to “teach them a lesson.”
This year’s group of Divine Princesses was much the same as the last, with no significant difference.
Tucking his books under his arm and adjusting the glasses perched on his nose, the stern-faced, square-jawed veteran teacher Charis prepared to leave the classroom.
“Excuse me, may I trouble you for a moment despite your precious time for rest and preparation?” came a melodious voice, as sweet and clear as a lark’s song, resonating with both grace and politeness.
“Hmm?” Charis hesitated, pausing in his tracks. He turned around to see a golden-haired girl, barely reaching his waist, who had called him.
An unawakened Goddess?
Charis immediately recognized that this girl wasn’t an awakened Divine Princess.
What stood out most about this little girl wasn’t just her radiant blonde hair but also the unsightly scar on her face.
Who was this child?
For the life of him, Charis couldn’t remember where he’d seen her before, which was strange. If she were a Goddess in his class, he should’ve remembered her.
A transfer student?
That couldn’t be right—the official division of classes hadn’t taken place yet, so all courses were mixed. Thus, there were no actual transfer students yet.
“Are you here to ask me something?” Charis questioned, almost incredulous.
“Of course, why else would I stop you, Charis Mentor?” the girl responded with a sweet and obliging smile.
“How do you know my name?” Charis wondered aloud.
Hearing this, the golden-haired girl giggled like a chiming bell, pointing at the nameplate pinned on Charis’s chest but refraining from answering.
Charis then realized his own nametag exposed the answer. The reason he hadn’t noticed was because it was rare for a student to observe such a detail during the first class. The name on the pin was also quite small.
This child seemed to pay more attention to details than most of her peers.
Charis looked at the girl with renewed interest, bending down to meet her level and asking kindly, “What don’t you understand?”
It was rare for a student to ask questions in the first class, whether it was for show or a genuine inquiry. Nevertheless, as a teacher, it was Charis’s responsibility to answer.
“Charis Mentor, you mentioned earlier that the activation conditions for certain special Goddess realms differ. Are these classified based on specific trigger conditions?” Tillysha queried earnestly, holding her notebook.
Charis was moved to see the neat handwriting filling the slightly worn pages of Tillysha’s notebook.
Just in the first class, she’d taken such meticulous notes?
“There isn’t really a classification system for these Goddesses because they’re far too unique. Truly categorizing them might mean treating each individual as a category on their own,” Charis explained in detail.
“Could you give me some examples then?”
“Well, the examples are diverse. Let me try…. I remember one special Goddess from our academy whose realm could only be triggered when she was extremely hungry, never through any premonition of danger.”
“Hunger?…” Tillysha mused, finding the trigger condition quite bizarre indeed.
“Additionally, there were the Goddesses who could only activate their realms when they were full, which would leave them utterly exhausted afterward. And there were those who activated only when angry… The list is endless.”
“I see,” Tillysha said, a trace of disappointment crossing her face. This meant she couldn’t identify which category of special Goddess she belonged to based on any unique features.
Tillysha’s immediate goal was to utilize all the knowledge available at the academy to unlock her own Goddess realm. Her thirst for knowledge made her stand apart from her classmates, who still possessed their youthful arrogance and impatience. She had the patience and determination to focus deeply on her studies.
Unbeknownst to her, her earnest behavior left a very favorable first impression on her teacher. However, in the eyes of her classmates, her actions appeared contrived and deliberate—something they found highly disdainful and worthy of mockery.
