How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World

Chapter 334: Legal Stalking (1)

Now that my conversation with Elena is over, the only thing left is the class schedule.

As you know, Elena’s classes are quite numerous.

First-year literature classes are just the basics, and in the second year, her lectures expand beyond the Literature Department to include the Undeclared Studies as well.

The tasks I perform during these classes are limited to assisting Elena or engaging in discussions with the students, but even those can be mentally exhausting.

After all, there isn’t just one class—there are multiple.

In other words, I have to prepare myself for a barrage of questions every time I step into a lecture.

On top of that, since my identity has been revealed, it’s only natural for the intensity to increase.

So, I braced myself and entered the lecture.

“Before asking questions, let me make this clear: any personal stories or unrelated remarks will immediately result in a penalty. Please stick strictly to lecture-related questions during class.”

However, Elena preemptively blocked any issues.

Her firm warning left most of the students visibly disappointed.

Although I expected my role as a teaching assistant to become more challenging, her considerate gesture made me feel nothing but gratitude.

I nodded deeply in appreciation, and Elena responded with a gentle smile.

Then, she adjusted her glasses, signaling it was time for the class to officially begin.

Ah, by the way, Adelia was standing next to me, while Kate stood near the door, ready to act if anything were to happen.

Thanks to their presence, I felt at ease to focus on the class.

“History is always open to interpretation from various perspectives.

A person celebrated as a hero by some may be recorded as a ruthless butcher by others. For example, take Jace Miracha from the Tribal Wars.

While the elves remember him as a dishonorable villain who lacked integrity, humans revere him as a hero.

Thus, while history itself might appear objective, it often lends itself to subjective interpretations depending on the context…”

Thanks to Elena’s forewarning, the lecture proceeded smoothly.

Occasionally, or rather blatantly, a few students stared at me, but I ignored them all.

Surely, they must have many things they want to say, but losing marks for it would be too great a loss.

Even more so since Elena is known among students for being generous with grades, and her exams are based on an absolute grading system rather than a relative one, making it practically a gift of a lecture.

That said, receiving deductions would still be a bitter mistake, so the students exercised patience.

‘Except for one.’

I made eye contact with a student who had been glaring at me intently since earlier.

Her sinister gaze remained as unsettling as ever, but her strikingly vivid pink eyes stood out.

As everyone might have guessed, it was Cherry.

She wasn’t focusing on the class at all, wasting time staring only at me.

Her pink hair had grown longer since the last time I saw her, and her expression seemed brighter too.

– If not for those unnervingly grim eyes.

Moreover, her unique aura seemed to create a slight distance between her and the other students around her.

With her looks alone, Cherry should have been incredibly popular among her peers, but her presence seemed to dominate everything else.

‘But…’

If I wasn’t mistaken, her chest seemed larger than the last time I saw her.

And no, I’m not being a pervert—it was a noticeable difference.

Her uniform, which already struggled to contain her like Cecily’s, now seemed on the verge of giving up entirely.

It was so tight that the buttons looked ready to pop off any second.

If her uniform were personified, it might only be able to choke out a helpless gasp.

Cherry, who usually pays attention to her attire, seemed to be growing rapidly, judging by the state of her uniform.

Admirable growth, to say the least.

“Ahem. Ahem.”

“… …”

Adelia, noticing my gaze, cleared her throat to snap me back to focus.

Only then did I manage to redirect my attention back to the lecture.

Still, it was hard to ignore Cherry.

Sitting right in the front row, she continued to watch me with unwavering focus.

What concerned me more was the students sitting beside her, who were subtly keeping their distance.

As I’ve said before, Cherry is incredibly beautiful with an excellent figure and an impressive background.

Yet, no one seemed interested in her, and some even appeared uneasy.

I couldn’t help but wonder if there had been some issue with her relationships.

She does have a gloomy demeanor, but her charm more than makes up for it.

‘Did something happen while I was away?’

Anyway, I planned to meet with Cherry separately later, so I could take my time figuring it out.

For now, I had to send the manuscripts she hadn’t delivered yet to the publisher.

Since only the first volume had been published and the second hadn’t been released, I wondered how much material had piled up in the meantime.

I couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

Of course, I wasn’t expecting too much, as I still didn’t know Cherry’s writing speed.

I had heard, however, that she had completed the manuscript for the second volume.

It was only my busyness that delayed its submission.

While assisting Elena’s lecture, I began planning my next steps.

“Professor, may I ask a question?”

“Yes. Your name is…?”

“My name is Hasir Kellik.”

“Ah, Hasir. Go ahead.”

During the lecture, a student with slightly curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes stood up to ask a question.

He briefly glanced at me before voicing his curiosity.

“You mentioned that history is objective but can be interpreted subjectively. Doesn’t that also mean records different from the original history might exist?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Then, to uncover such histories, even those unknown to their participants, what steps should one take?”

It was quite a sharp question.

And I immediately realized that it was aimed at me.

As soon as Hasir posed the question, all eyes in the room turned toward me.

Even Elena’s gaze settled on me, making me feel rather uncomfortable.

There wasn’t much I could say in response, though, since Hasir’s question itself was an excellent one.

It perfectly embodied the mindset of a scholar.

The issue was my presence in this lecture hall. After some thought, Elena began to explain.

“That’s a fascinating question. But uncovering such histories often involves taking great risks.

History is written by the victors, but that doesn’t mean the records of the defeated vanish entirely. If history is lost or erased entirely, it’s usually because someone powerful intentionally made it so.

For example, the reinterpreted myths of the elves remain myths—open to diverse interpretations—but they were not erased.”

“Can you provide an example?”

“The most representative examples would be the exile of the dark elves and the forbidden magic of fusion.”

Hidden histories are called hidden for a reason.

They are stories that must not be revealed—ones that could shake the very foundations of nations and races.

The dark elf exile, like the Tribal Wars, was a tragedy born of elven arrogance, and fusion was a dangerous magic that was ultimately discarded.

“However, even more dangerous than hidden history is the act of distorting the flow of history.”

“Distorting history, you say?”

“Yes. Recently, demon worshippers who dominated the dark world were known for such acts. They even had a fallen cardinal among them…”

While speaking, Elena glanced toward Kate by the door.

Fortunately, Kate seemed uninterested and remained impassive.

“Ahem. Ahem. They had the power to rewrite history. If you dig deep enough into history, you’ll find inconsistencies—things that don’t quite add up.

For instance, nobles or heroes who seemed fine suddenly committing suicide or being imprisoned for treason.

If you’re willing to take on the mission of unraveling such mysteries and saving the world, I won’t stop you. But… it will put your life at considerable risk.”

“…….”

The atmosphere instantly turned heavy following Elena’s explanation.

Having a living witness present certainly made it hit home.

Of course, I’ve never been directly threatened by demon worshippers before.

But if I let my guard down, they would undoubtedly pounce immediately.

Completely.

Until the demon worshippers are eradicated, I’ll have to live my entire life under threat.

“Well, I can give some advice, at least. Don’t you think so, Isaac?”

“I don’t know anything.”

The real trick is that I genuinely don’t know anything. The frustrating part is that no one believes that.

Elena seemed to take my response as a joke, letting out a faint laugh.

As expected, she didn’t believe me.

“Come on, just some light advice will do. I asked for advice, not a glimpse into the future.”

“Phew…”

I let out a sigh tinged with complexity.

Thankfully, I had anticipated this to some extent, so I wasn’t flustered.

I slowly scanned the students in the lecture hall.

Most of them were looking at me with bright, eager eyes.

Except for one.

Cherry was the only one whose eyes were devoid of any light. Instead, she replaced it with a smile.

‘…This is scary.’

Her eyes were dead, but her lips were smiling—it was chilling.

Could this be why her peers avoided her?

Regardless, I had to speak.

Feeling awkward under the students’ gaze, I scratched my head.

Honestly, the so-called advice I could give wasn’t anything special.

“As Professor Elena said, uncovering hidden history is like walking an unknown path where nothing is visible.

There’s no telling what kind of records you’ll find; it could be something trivial.

In the worst-case scenario, it could be a truth you’re better off not knowing.”

Not that it applies to me.

I didn’t exactly tread an unknown path—it’s more like I pulled the imagination in my head into reality.

It just so happened that everything aligned perfectly and became the present.

I didn’t dig into history separately. I simply relied on my vivid imagination.

“Even so, if you’re determined to walk that path, I won’t stop you.

Research is a scholar’s fundamental duty. However, I must emphasize this point: once you start, it’s difficult to get out.”

It’s true.

Scholars are often accused of being obsessed or eccentric for a reason.

Most scholars dive into their field because they love it, sometimes going to extremes to gain knowledge.

I’m no different. Although The Xenon Chronicles is a fictional tale, it was based on the history of this world.

Mixing in various clichés I encountered in my past life led to the current situation.

“There’s no such thing as truly hidden history. If any of you become scholars in the future and study a specific field, countless discoveries will emerge. That’s what it means to be a scholar.”

“Then how did you uncover the truth, Lord Xenon?”

One student interjected. However, I had no intention of answering.

To be precise, I couldn’t. I made it clear when I revealed my identity.

I stated that every story in The Xenon Chronicles came from my imagination and that all of this was a coincidence.

The student who asked the question didn’t seem to believe me.

It’s up to them whether they believe or not, but I couldn’t help but give a wry smile.

“That’s a difficult question to answer. Would you believe me if I said I simply wrote down the stories in my head?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll pass on answering. This is all I’ll say. Thank you.”

The sudden declaration of the session’s end startled the students, but they quickly responded with enthusiastic applause that almost hurt my ears.

I bowed politely in response to the applause.

I’m gradually getting used to these awkward situations.

“Well then, let’s end the class here for today. Great job, everyone.”

After Elena announced the end of the lecture, the students began to rise from their seats.

I stayed put, planning to leave with Elena.

As I casually met the eyes of each student, my gaze eventually landed on Cherry.

She made no move to leave her seat and was just staring at me.

For some reason, her gaze felt burdensome, making me give an awkward smile as I waved my hand lightly.

Finally, she responded.

Grin—

It was that same creepy smile I’d seen earlier.

Even though she was smiling, it didn’t feel like a smile at all.

‘What… why does this feel even worse than before?’

Later, in a different class…

“…Cherry?”

“Yes…”

“Didn’t you attend the history lecture earlier?”

I couldn’t ignore Cherry sitting in the front row again.

“I wanted to see you, senior…”

“…”

“You said you wouldn’t abandon me…”

This is my fault.