The Laziest God Mortal Reincarnation

"Each SSS student will be responsible for their class."

Professor Halden frowned.

"Responsible in what sense?"

"Every sense that matters."

I began counting.

"Training coordination."

One finger.

"Battle formations."

Another.

"Team selection."

Another.

"Resource decisions."

Another.

"Strategy during competitive exercises."

Another.

"Understanding the strengths and weaknesses of their classmates."

I lowered my hand.

"And most importantly, consequences."

Darius’s expression changed slightly.

I continued.

"There will no longer be an individual Academy ranking for their year."

The admissions director stared.

"No individual ranking at all?"

"No."

"Then how will we determine access to higher-tier resources?"

"Class ranking."

That landed.

Selene smiled slowly.

Now she could see the entire structure.

Darius could too.

His skepticism was disappearing.

I continued.

"Five classes."

I pointed toward the papers.

"Five rankings."

"First through fifth," Selene said.

"Exactly."

"The entire class shares the position."

"Yes."

"And the entire class rises or falls together."

"Yes."

The admissions director leaned forward.

"How will points be awarded?"

"Everything."

He frowned.

I elaborated.

"Academic examinations."

"Average class score?"

"Partially."

"Combat competitions?"

"Naturally."

"Field missions?"

"Yes."

"Monster hunts?"

"Once they’re ready."

"Team battles?"

"Frequently."

Professor Halden’s eyes sharpened.

"Crafting?"

"If an alchemist contributes to their class, that contribution matters."

"Healing?"

"Of course."

"Research?"

"Yes."

"Strategy?"

"Yes."

I looked around the table.

"I don’t want five classes built entirely around their strongest fighter."

That would defeat the entire purpose.

"If their SSS leader walks into every competition and defeats everyone personally, they have learned nothing."

Darius smiled faintly.

"So certain competitions will restrict the leader."

"Some."

"Others will exclude them entirely."

"Yes."

His smile grew.

He was beginning to enjoy this.

Combat instructors usually did when rules became cruel.

"The leader might have to choose who fights."

"Correct."

"Choose who trains for which role."

"Correct."

"Decide where class resources go."

"Correct."

"And if they choose badly..."

"The entire class suffers."

Selene tapped one finger against the table.

"Now I understand."

Several people looked toward her.

She looked at the five reports.

"If they simply rank individually, the five SSS students only need to become strong."

She paused.

"With this system, they need to make everyone around them stronger."

Exactly.

I nodded.

"A powerful person can win a duel."

I looked toward the windows.

"A leader wins wars."

Silence.

That one remained in the room.

Good.

The admissions director was already writing.

"Class points can be awarded weekly."

"Monthly official standings," I said.

"Public?"

"Completely."

Darius chuckled.

"That will create rivalries."

"Good."

Selene raised an eyebrow at me.

"Healthy rivalries?"

"I would prefer healthy."

"And if they aren’t?"

"That’s why we employ disciplinary instructors."

Darius looked offended.

"We?"

I ignored him.

Selene’s lips twitched.

The admissions director continued writing.

"Would students be individually rewarded at all?"

"Yes."

He paused.

I clarified.

"Individual achievement should still matter. Exceptional students deserve recognition. But recognition and ranking are different things."

Potential scholarships.

Rare spell access.

Instructor recommendations.

Specialized training.

Those could remain.

But the great board in Zenith’s central hall would no longer display one hundred names from strongest to weakest.

For this generation, it would display five.

Five class names.

Five scores.

Five leaders.

And everyone beneath those leaders would have a reason to care whether the person beside them improved.

"If the weakest student fails an examination," I said, "their class average suffers."

Halden nodded slowly.

"So stronger students will be encouraged to tutor them."

"If a healer performs poorly during a field operation, everyone notices."

Darius added, "If the frontline refuses to protect the healer, they lose points."

"If the leader doesn’t understand their classmates," Selene said, "they’ll make bad assignments."

I nodded.

"And if a genius believes everyone beneath them is irrelevant..."

I looked at the five reports.

"The ranking will teach them otherwise."

That was the true purpose.

The five SSS students would enter Zenith knowing they were exceptional.

The world had undoubtedly been telling them that since their Awakening.

Nobles would praise them.

Families would protect them.

Kingdoms would watch them.

People would compare themselves to them.

Some would worship them.

Others would resent them.

Very few would tell them something more important.

Being the strongest person in a room did not make everyone else unnecessary.

Perhaps this system could.

Professor Halden crossed his arms.

"There is one danger."

"Several," I corrected.

He ignored that.

"The classes may become too dependent on their SSS leader."

"Then create exercises where the leader cannot participate."

Darius immediately nodded.

"Capture scenarios."

"Good."

"Leadership incapacitation."

"Good."

"Separated squads."

"Good."

"Limited communication."

"Good."

"Resource shortages."

"Very good."

Selene looked at me.

"You’ve been thinking about this longer than five minutes."

I didn’t answer.

She sighed.

Of course I had.

The idea had been forming since the fifth report arrived.

Five prodigies.

Five centers.

Five groups growing around them.

Let them compete.

Let them fail.

Let them learn.

Let them discover that strength could not solve every problem.

And perhaps...

Let them become accustomed to leading before the world ever required them to.

My gaze returned to the sheets.

Five children.

Then the war.

Coincidence.

Probably.

I disliked that word.

"There’s another issue," Selene said.

I looked at her.

"Five SSS students competing as class leaders will become extremely competitive."

"That is the intention."

"Potentially hostile."

"Also possible."

"They could hate each other by graduation."

"Then our instructors will have failed."

That surprised several people.

I continued.

"The purpose isn’t to create five enemies."

I looked between them.

"It’s to teach five exceptional individuals how to compete without becoming incapable of cooperation."

Selene’s gaze sharpened.

There.

That was the other half.

Competition alone was dangerous.

Cooperation alone created complacency.

They needed both.

"Some exercises," I said, "will combine classes."

The admissions director stopped writing.

"Combine them?"

"Two classes against three."

Darius’s eyes lit up.

"Temporary alliances."

"Yes."

"Objectives requiring multiple classes."

"Yes."

Selene understood immediately.

"So a class they defeated one week may be the class they need beside them the next."

"Exactly."

An excellent leader needed to know how to defeat a rival.

A better one needed to know when not to.

"Negotiation exercises," Selene said.

"Add them."

"Resource trading."

"Add it."

"Joint survival tests."

"Definitely."

Darius leaned forward.

"Betrayal allowed?"

I stared at him.

He smiled.

"Educational betrayal."

Selene covered her face.

I sighed.

"Within reasonable limits."

His smile widened.

I already regretted that answer.

Still...

The structure was taking shape.

Five permanent classes.

Five SSS leaders.

One shared ranking.

No student could climb alone.

No leader could afford to ignore the weakest person under them.

Leadership.

Responsibility.

Strategy.

Trust.

Competition.

Cooperation.

Adaptability.

And consequence.

Much better.

Yet something still remained.

Something no academy system could teach properly.

I looked at the five reports.

These children needed to understand what their potential could become.

More importantly...

They needed to understand what it could cost.

"And," I said, "I will ask him to come teach them."

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Darius frowned.

"Him?"

The admissions director looked confused.

"Who?"

Two professors exchanged glances.

Selene didn’t.

Her face became completely still.

Ah.

She knew.

"Theoran."

I met her eyes.

"Yes."

"You cannot be serious."

Several heads turned toward her.

Darius looked between us.

"Who exactly are we talking about?"

Selene ignored him.

"Theoran, that man has refused every formal position offered to him for decades."

"I remember."

"He rejected a royal appointment."

"I remember that too."

"He walked out of an international summit because there were, and I quote, ’too many people breathing nearby.’"

A few people blinked.

I suppressed a smile.

"That sounds accurate."

"He hates crowds."

"Yes."

"He hates noble politics."

"Yes."

"He hates organizations."

"Usually."

"He definitely hates academies."

"Unfortunately."

"And he hates teaching."

"That is the larger problem."

Selene stared at me.

"Then why would he come here?"

I looked at the five reports.

"Because nobody else can teach them what I need him to teach."

Darius frowned.

"What could possibly require one specific man?"

I remained silent for a moment.

Then tapped the first report.

"SSS potential."

The room quieted.

"Since Zenith was founded, rare individuals possessing this potential have entered these halls."

I moved my finger across the five reports.

"Some reached S rank."

"Some reached SS."

"But only one..."

I looked around the table.

"...reached SSS core."

Recognition appeared gradually.

Darius stopped moving.

The admissions director’s eyes widened.

Professor Halden inhaled slowly.

Everyone knew the story.

Every high-ranking mage did.

"Twelve years," I said.

Nobody interrupted.

"Twelve years after his Awakening."

Selene folded her arms.

"And now you want him to teach five children who possess the same potential."

"No."

She frowned.

I looked at the papers.

"I want him to teach five children who might make the same mistakes everyone with overwhelming talent tends to make."

That was different.

"Everyone here will treat them as extraordinary."

Nobody denied it.

"Their classmates will know they’re extraordinary."

Still silence.

"The kingdom knows."

I paused.

"He won’t care."

Selene’s expression softened with understanding.

Exactly.

That man would not care about their houses.

Their titles.

Their reputations.

Their political importance.

Perhaps he would barely care about their names.

What he would care about was whether they could survive.

Whether they could fight.

Whether they understood power.

And whether they were wasting what they had been given.

Selene sighed.

"We don’t even know where he is."

"I’ll find him."

"Many people have tried."

"They were not me."

"And if you find him, he’ll refuse."

"Likely."

"Very likely."

"Yes."

"He prefers solitude more than almost anything."

"I know."

She leaned forward.

"And what exactly will you say to convince the strongest human alive to abandon his solitude and teach five teenagers?"

I considered the question.

The answer was simple.

"I haven’t decided yet."

For once, Selene looked genuinely surprised.

Then irritated.

"Theoran."

"Let me worry about that."

She stared at me.

I stared back.

Eventually she sighed.

"You’re going to bother him until he agrees."

"A crude description."

"An accurate one."

I didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

I turned toward the tall windows.

Zenith Academy stretched beneath us.

Ancient towers.

Training fields.

Libraries.

Arena grounds.

Hundreds of students walking between buildings.

Six months from now, everything would change.

Five permanent classes would begin.

Five SSS-potential students would each receive people who depended on them.

They would compete.

Win.

Lose.

Argue.

Lead.

Fail.

Learn.

Perhaps become friends.

Perhaps rivals.

Hopefully both.

And perhaps this generation was simply strange.

Perhaps five SSS potentials appearing together meant nothing.

Perhaps the beastkin war beginning only a few years after their births meant nothing.

Perhaps I was an old man searching for danger where none existed.

I genuinely hoped so.

Because eighty-one years had taught me one lesson above all others.

When the world suddenly did something it had never done before...

A wise man did not wait for an explanation.

He prepared.

I looked back at the five papers.

Five students.

Five leaders.

Five classes.

And eventually...

Perhaps five monsters capable of standing at the summit of humanity.

"Prepare the new ranking system," I said.

The admissions director nodded.

"And the classes?"

"Balance them."

Darius smiled.

"I’ll begin designing the competitions."

That was concerning.

"Nothing fatal."

His smile weakened.

"Obviously."

I did not believe him.

Selene looked toward me.

"And you?"

I picked up my cane.

"I have someone to find."

Her expression immediately became tired.

"Give him my condolences."

I began walking toward the door.

"I haven’t found him yet."

"Exactly."

I almost smiled.

Behind me, discussion immediately resumed.

Class compositions.

Point systems.

Competitions.

Leadership authority.

Rules.

Rewards.

Punishments.

All important.

But my thoughts had already moved elsewhere.

Somewhere in this world was the only human who had ever successfully reached an SSS-ranked core.

A man who wanted nothing to do with the kingdom.

Nothing to do with fame.

Nothing to do with Zenith Academy.

And, unfortunately for him...

I needed a teacher.