Do ratmen dream of the sacred tree of spirits?

Chapter 70 Wednesday Afternoon

"So, Fafnir, you also wrote down the names of the children who weren't accepted?"

"Yes, Mr. Victor, I teach them to read from three to five o'clock in the afternoon after school."

"Are you alone?"

"Um."

"Some of the clergy in the East District are really outrageous. Of the four teachers originally assigned, besides you and Anna, there were two church priests, but they felt it was too much work and declined."

Later, Martha and Allen were brought in as substitutes, and I think they were also suitable.”

Mr. Victor shook his head:

"Little Martha and Little Allen have also worked hard."

Since you have a plan, my little Fafnir, don't worry, I won't let you bear so much alone.

Please wait a few more days; you can fill in for now.

"Ha, can't even a few priests who teach literacy be pulled out?"

……

After saying goodbye to Mr. Victor, Fafnir looked at the black bread Andrius had given him on the table; it was as hard as a rock.

Fafnir dipped his finger in the water, then swallowed it.

It tasted pretty bad, but I could barely manage to eat it...

……

Wednesday noon, East District School for Children of Poor Families

As usual, Fafnir went to his office, which used to be a prayer room, for lunch.

Sigh... I'm a little tired...

Fafnir ate his almost unchanging bread and soup, sometimes with fried meat, sometimes with a vegetable salad.

While thinking about the events of the past few days,

I'm a little tired. I get up a little after six every morning and walk to school to prepare for class... Fafnir felt a bit powerless.

This semester, the students were divided into two classes. The original class of forty-seven students will be taught by Fafner and Martha.

Another new class will be taught by Ms. Anna and Alan.

The workload has effectively doubled, with four people now responsible for each class instead of just two.

From 8:00 AM to 3:00 PM, the teaching model consisted of one person lecturing on stage while another person provided guidance or graded assignments in the audience.

Students are only allowed to rest occasionally when they are asked to practice writing on their own, or during lunch break.

Fafner even considered adding a physical education class every few days, or some vocal lessons, and maybe a meditation class... Oh right, this semester's "old class" needs to start taking the most basic math class.

When will Mr. Victor be able to send a new teacher...?

Between 3 and 5 pm these past two days, the more than fifty informal students have also exhausted Fafnir.

I'm so sorry, Martha and Alan, Fafnir thought.

I feel somewhat ashamed; I still troubled them with their assistance these past two afternoons from 3 to 5 pm after school. If I were to teach over fifty students for two hours by myself, I would be overwhelmed and unable to manage.

Because these children really don't know anything, and their progress is very different, sometimes it's necessary to guide them one by one.

Moreover, I have to practice filling the spiritual gaps every day after returning to the dormitory, so I don't have much time. I've fallen behind in my progress with Fireball spells lately...

Back in the dorm, I still need to find time to teach Martha and Allen bookkeeping. It's very important; Martha and Allen might become excellent financial officers in the future, even if their path of magic doesn't work out.

Oh, right, regarding spells, I still need to answer their questions about spiritual vision or subsequent first-tier elemental spells.

Fafner felt some pressure and didn't want to think about it anymore.

He hadn't finished his lunch yet, and his eyes were slightly closed, as if he wanted to take a short nap.

A 20-minute nap at noon can effectively relieve physical fatigue and mental stress...

"Fafner!" A clear and familiar voice suddenly rang out from nearby.

Fafner, still half-asleep, jolted awake.

"Ah... it's Miss Joelle, hello, you startled me..."

Fafnir was still shaken; he had really been frightened. He looked up and saw Miss Joël pushing open the office door.

"Fafner,"

Miss Joelle was wearing dark brown riding breeches today, a shirt on top, a dark blue silk scarf tied at the collar, and her golden braids were coiled at the back of her head, revealing her pointed ears.

This is typical adult clothing.

She stood there, a smile she couldn't hide on her lips:

"My dad has agreed that I can come here on Wednesday afternoons to assist with teaching."

Fafner recalled that at the banquet celebrating Mr. Victor's ascension to the rank of first bishop,

Miss Joelle did indeed mention, "Can I help out? Every Wednesday afternoon, whether it's teaching them to read or doing something else."

Although Fafnir had previously thought that the young lady might just be acting on a whim, he had still mentioned it to Mr. Victor.

"That's great," Fafnir said, trying to make his voice sound enthusiastic.

Joelle came in, closed the door behind her, and carried a small basket in her hand.

"Have you had lunch? I brought some snacks."

Fafnir glanced at his unfinished bread and soup, thinking he'd already had lunch and didn't need any more.

But Joelle had already placed the basket on the table, lifted the cloth covering it, revealing several neatly arranged pies, still steaming slightly.

"This was made in the kitchen at noon today," Miss Joelle said, pulling up a chair to sit opposite Fafnir.

"You'll like it."

"No, no need, thank you. I've already had lunch, Miss Joelle, you're too kind."

"Take it, Fafnir, don't be shy, it was specially prepared for you."

Looking at Joël's earnest eyes, Fafnir felt that declining might seem hypocritical, so he took the pie she offered, took a bite, and...

It tastes like a familiar, delicious curd cheese pie.

"Is it good?" Miss Joelle tilted her head slightly to look at him.

"It's delicious," Fafnir said, taking another bite. "Thank you."

He remembered the first time he ate curd cheese pie; it was his very first night at grammar school, brought back by Mr. Victor from the "Old Mudpit" tavern.

At that time, he had almost nothing. Sitting on his bed in the dormitory, he ate while thinking about how many floors he needed to mop the floors for the next day.

The pie that Joël gave him was even more delicious.

Miss Joël sat opposite Fafnir, her hands on her knees, leaning slightly forward, as if waiting for him to say something.

The office was quiet for a while, with only the occasional sound of children playing.

"Fafner," Joël suddenly spoke, her voice softer than before, "Have you been getting enough rest lately? Are you very tired?"

Fafnir initially wanted to say "no" to brush it off, but seeing Miss Joël's concerned and sincere eyes:

"Thank you for your concern. Yes, there is some. I've been teaching a lot lately, and I also have to practice spells when I get back to the dorm."

But I can still handle it, haha.

"Did I disturb your rest? I'm sorry. Your eyes look tired; you look like you just woke up..."

"It's alright," Fafner said, swallowing the last bite of pie.

"Are you really going to stay and help this afternoon? It's math class this afternoon."

"Of course I can do math."

"Those children have a very poor foundation; some don't even know numbers. You have to start teaching them from the very basics."

"So what?"

Fafner glanced at her but said nothing more.

A soft knock came at the door. Cecilia pushed the door open, stood on the threshold, and glanced at Fafnir before her gaze landed on Joël.

"Miss."

"I stayed until five o'clock in the afternoon to help out," Joelle said.

Cecilia frowned slightly. "Miss, the Viscount wants you to go home as soon as possible. He said you could stay until three o'clock at the latest."

"I'll talk to Dad."

Cecilia was silent for a few seconds, then glanced at Fafnir with a look of distrust and helplessness in her eyes.

"These children...you don't know who their parents are, what if something happens—"

"With you here, what could possibly happen?" Joelle interrupted her.

Cecilia didn't reply, but left, leaving the door ajar.

Fafnir lowered his voice: "Ms. Cecilia is right, it's not safe here. There was trouble last time."

"Didn't you block him?"

"What if?"

Joelle looked at him seriously: "You've been teaching here for so long and nothing's happened. I've only been here for an afternoon, what could possibly happen to me?"

Fafner was speechless.

In the afternoon arithmetic class, Fafner stood on the podium explaining addition, and the children listened and wrote in their notebooks—these were the paper and pens provided by the school.

Joelle stood at the back of the classroom, initially just watching, but later walked over to a girl and bent down to look at the numbers she had written.

"This is written wrong," she said. "You missed a stroke."

The girl looked up at her, a little nervous. Joelle took the pen, then returned it. The girl copied it down.

Joël straightened up and continued walking forward.

Cecilia stood at the classroom door, arms crossed, her expression tense.

Her gaze swept over the children, and she remained vigilant about her surroundings.

A class lasted nearly fifty minutes. Joël walked around the back of the classroom several times, bending down to look at the exercise books of more than a dozen children.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, Ms. Anna rang the school bell to dismiss the students.

The children packed their things and headed out. Luca ran over and said, "See you tomorrow, teacher," before disappearing in a flash.

Dozens of children walked in from outside; they were there for the class from 3 to 5 o'clock.

Joelle stood beside the podium, looking at the children.

Some were barefoot, some were wearing old adult shoes, and some had snot still on their noses.

They found a place to sit down, and Fafner brought them some paper and pens, supplies that had been obtained from the grammar school.

"These are... those who weren't accepted?" Joelle asked.

"Yes," Fafner said, "I promised them I would teach for two hours every afternoon."

Fafnir stood on the platform, picked up the chalk, and wrote the letters he would teach that day on the blackboard. The children repeated them, their voices varying in pitch.

After reading it a few times, have them write it in their exercise books.

Joelle started reading from the first row.

When she reached Andryusa, she stopped. Andryusa's pen grip was incorrect; all five fingers were clenched on the pen shaft, resulting in thick and crooked letters.

"Loosen your grip," she crouched down, pried his fingers apart, and put them back in place. "Put your thumb here, don't grip too tightly."

Andreusa's hand froze as he wrote a single letter, a little better than before.

Write one more.

The second one was better.

"Yes, that's it."

She stood up, her legs a little sore; she had bent over too many times that afternoon, and her knees were stiff.

She moved on to the next child, a girl whose hands were cracked from chilblains and trembling as she held the pen. She pointed to the exercise book:

"This is written incorrectly, it's not written like this. Let me demonstrate for you..."

The girl nodded...

During the fifty-minute class, Joël kept walking, bending over, and talking.

Her throat was dry, her calves ached, and her back was stiff. She had never stood for so long or bent over so many times before.

When get out of class ended, Joelle breathed a sigh of relief.

The children left one by one.

Andriusha was the last to leave. He ran back to the door, took something out of his bag, stuffed it into Fafnir's hand, and then turned and ran away.

Fafnir handed it over to Joël.

Joelle took it; it was an apple, small, with a slightly wrinkled skin, but very clean.

She stood there clutching the apple for a moment, then put it in her pocket.

Cecilia walked in from the doorway, her face looking rather pale.

"Miss, it's time to go back."

"Um."

Stepping out of the church, the carriage was already waiting at the alley entrance. Knight Armand stood beside the carriage, expressionless.

Fafnir did not ride in the same carriage as Joël this time, which shows that Joël needed to rest alone. He rode in a carriage with several knights.

Cecilia opened the carriage door, and Joël got in, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.

She opened her eyes only after the carriage had traveled some distance.

"Isn't Fafnir tired of doing this every day?" she asked, as if she were asking Cecilia, but also as if she were asking herself.

Cecilia did not answer.

"I'm a little tired today," Joelle said. "Not physically tired, it's just... I can't quite put my finger on it."

She paused:

"Some of those children didn't even have shoes; their feet were covered in chilblains."

There was a girl whose hands were covered in cracks, and she kept shaking when she held a pen.

The apple the boy gave Fafnir was so wrinkled; it must have been sitting there for a long time, and he hadn't wanted to eat it.

Cecilia was silent for a moment: "Miss, you don't need to do these things."

What do you mean by "it doesn't have to be done"?

"You are the daughter of Viscount Lorraine, so these things will naturally be taken care of. Your studies at the grammar school are sufficient."

Joelle did not respond.

The carriage continued forward, its wheels making a dull thud as they rolled over the stone pavement.

"I'm teaching a girl how to hold a pen today," Joelle said.

"Her hands were very dirty, with black grime under her fingernails. When I squatted down, I smelled a stench on her..."

But I didn't find it disgusting. I just thought, how is she supposed to write if she can't even hold a pen properly? I need to teach her how to hold a pen.

Cecilia didn't say anything.

"When I was in the castle, I found practicing the piano boring, etiquette classes annoying, and my dad too strict. I never imagined that someone would have no one to teach them how to hold a pen."

I'll come again next Wednesday.

Cecilia opened her mouth, as if to say something.

The carriage stopped briefly in front of the grammar school.

Joël pushed open the carriage window and watched Fafnir jump down from a carriage behind him:

"Fafner..."

"What's wrong?"

"Go back and get some sleep. Don't practice your magic too late. Goodbye!"

"Thank you, Miss Joelle. You are a kind and respectable lady. See you later!"