I Became the Academy’s Weakest Strategist

“How to fit an elephant into a cooking pot, you ask?”
Hearing my query, the portly professor scrunched his face, staring at me as if I were some sort of oddity.
Of course, he would be unfamiliar with this one.
A riddle that has tormented countless grad students and undergrads across the internet.
There was no way this professor could possibly know the answer to such a perplexing conundrum.

To fit an elephant, an animal nearly 8 meters long and weighing 6,000kg, into a mere cooking pot – it seemed utterly nonsensical at first.
Yet the solution was surprisingly simple.

“Are you trying to make a fool of me, boy?”
“Not at all, I assure you.”
“Every problem must have an answer. But your elephant-in-a-pot riddle is utter nonsense with no solution!”
The professor’s voice grew increasingly heated.
Seemingly flustered at being made to look foolish before Louis, whom he had hoped to impress, he began railing at me indignantly.

“How does one fit an elephant into a cooking pot?!”
“Maybe use a shrinking spell…?”
“Shrinking spells don’t work on living beings, you dolt!”
“Oh, so there’s no actual answer then?”
Murmurs arose.
The students, accustomed to my typical silent behavior, grew restless as I posed this perplexing riddle without preamble.

“It is a valid question with an answer, Professor. One that becomes quite simple if you shift your perspective a little.”
“What was that?!”
“Everyone, why don’t you all try solving it? Ponder it deeply – what could the answer to this riddle be?”
Whispers filled the room as students turned to discuss potential solutions with each other.
Irked at having lost control of his class, the portly professor began jabbing my chest with his wand.

“This is my lesson, taught by Professor Rubert! You are but a student, I am the instructor – know your place!”
While not painful, being poked by that odious lump left an unpleasant sensation.

“Was it not you who summoned me to the front, Professor?”
“…Kuh.”
My words rendered him momentarily speechless, stroking his scraggly beard in consternation.

“Well, what’s the blasted answer then?!”
“I truly don’t know? Care to enlighten us?”
“I’ve never seen such a nonsensical riddle in any book…”

The collective yearning for the solution soon consumed the entire class.
Brushing past the discomfited professor, I ascended the podium and slowly addressed the students.

“The answer is simple – you simply place the elephant into the cooking pot.”
“What??”
“Utter nonsense…”
“How does that make any sense?”

Initially stunned by the unexpected response, the students and professor soon broke into raucous laughter.

“Puhahaha! Why, that’s the sort of asinine logic a child would use! You call that an actual riddle, you good-for-nothing?”
“What an utter lunatic, hahaha!”

As the situation worsened, Louis made to rise, gripping his wand, but I shook my head firmly.
Concerned, he subsided back into his seat as I continued elucidating the true meaning behind this riddle.

“Indeed, it seems utter nonsense at first glance.
This riddle was created specifically to provoke humor and amusement.
Yet it also imparts an important lesson to us.”

“Why do you assume it makes no sense?”
Boldly shattering assumptions – that was the key lesson.
“Simply place the elephant into the pot.”
Discard preconceived notions and view the world from a fresh perspective.

In that moment, every eye in the classroom turned towards me.
A brief silence lingered, then one student tentatively raised their hand to offer:
“So…does that mean we just need to make the pot bigger than the elephant?”
“Correct.”
Another hand shot up.
“Or butcher the elephant first before putting it in?”
“Also correct.”

Indeed, all their suggestions qualified as valid answers.
By simply discarding any initial biases regarding elephants and cooking pots, the solution became readily apparent.

“But…if everything is an answer, doesn’t that make the riddle inconsistent?”
“Oh, quite astutely observed – that too is a valid answer.”
“Are you just messing with us now?”

A few indignant students rose from their seats, but I pressed on undeterred.

“Upon first hearing it, you likely thought: ‘The pot is too small to fit an elephant.’ Am I right?”
Some nodded in affirmation.

“That a pot must be small and an elephant large – do you truly believe this to be an immutable law of our world?”
“Well, isn’t that obvious?”
“Have you perceived the entirety of existence?”

I posed them a proposition:
Had they ever witnessed an elephant smaller than a pot?
Or a pot larger than an elephant?
Do not judge the whole by merely observing a part – for this world contains marvels beyond your wildest imaginings.
Cast off your preconceptions, view it through fresh eyes.

Those were the insights I imparted.
These people, who had never even glimpsed the full extent of the western continent, adamantly clung to the blinders of their insular imperial perspective.

“Discard your biases that pots must be small and elephants large. Once freed from such constraints, the solution branches into multiple valid answers, laid bare before your eyes.”

Turning, I graced the livid, demonically-contorted professor with a smile.
A withered relic mired in mockery and dogma, indoctrinating students to remain imprisoned within the empire’s stunted worldview.
The passionate flames of a new era erupted violently, leaving only the husk of a petulant dotard glaring impotently at me.

“Your earlier words apply equally, Professor.”
Slowly approaching until our eyes met, I commandeered the spotlight.
“There is no inherent requirement for imperial citizens to excel at magic. The ideal is to fully utilize one’s talents in service to the empire, is it not?”

“Y-You insolent…! How dare…?!”
As the professor’s jowls quivered with rage, his body quaking intensely, I calmly descended from the podium.
Acutely aware of the classroom’s uncomfortable scrutiny, I nevertheless strode nonchalantly back to my seat.

“To openly criticize a professor’s teaching methods during the very lesson?! You shall be reported to the disciplinary committee, make no mistake!”
The professor seemed on the verge of unleashing an attack spell, brandishing his wand menacingly.
Yet imperial law strictly prohibited harming others with offensive magic without prior consent, under penalty of legal judgment.
If the professor assaulted me now, even his position could be jeopardized.

Go ahead and try it – but then you’ll have to relinquish that lectern as well.

“H-How dare…! How dare…!”
Unable to actually follow through, the professor could only sputter indignantly as the situation slipped from his grasp.
At this juncture, he had two options remaining:
Proceed stoically with the lesson amid this chilled atmosphere.
Or simply walk out of the classroom altogether.

“Today’s lesson is over!”
Slam!
Bang!
Please, don’t let us detain you further, Professor.
No need to see you off.

Ultimately, he stormed out, slamming the door furiously behind him.
Clearly, being so humiliated by a mere remedial student stung his pride immensely.

“Lord Rommel…!”
The instant I returned to my seat, Louis scampered over, thumping me enthusiastically on the back.
Of course, his kitten-paw strikes posed no actual threat.

“Why take such reckless actions?! You could have faced disciplinary warnings!”
“If it comes to that, so be it.”
Disciplinary warnings?
As long as I avoided them from Professor Anderje’s class, I’d be fine.
That professor seemed the type to assign punishments like running 100 laps around the field.
In such cases, dropping out would almost feel more appealing.

“You call that reasoning?! There are even rumors that wretched grubworm has a vicious streak crueler than a spiteful fairy! If any harm befalls you…”
“Then I’ll simply have to deal with it when the time comes.”
If that professor tried anything, I had contingencies in place.
An ace in the hole, of sorts – though hopefully not one I’d need to play.

“Ah…why must you be so nonchalant towards impending dangers? It’s as if some part of you is emotionally detached…”
“Don’t try to paint me as some deranged psychopath.”
Sighing deeply, Louis began expounding his conspiracy theories regarding my mental state.
Swiftly, I muffled any further slander by firmly pressing down on his overlarge witch’s hat.
This prompted Louis to flail about comically, but at least silenced his defamatory ramblings.

“Gah…! Don’t manhandle my hat like that, you’ll wrinkle it!”
“Well, whose brilliant idea was it to wear such an oversized monstrosity?”
“It’s mine…so don’t crumple it…!”
As Louis bared his fangs and pounced, I deftly fended him off with one hand.
We continued our playful tussling when—

“Hey, that was really cool what you did back there.”
Someone approached, extending their hand in greeting.