This is a tale buried in history:
One day, a student elated in victory,
Dashed around the Grove's territory —

“I saw the spell the professor carved on his body!”^[1]
The youth with white hair was beside himself in joy,
“It must be a power most secret, a means for one man to stand against a thousand!”

That spell was rare indeed, for it was —
A secret way to overturn a cart of hay.

The scholar was still a mortal body,
As yet to snatch life from death,
Or to reforge a new flesh through a god's remedy.

Various minute tricks and parody,
He studied them all, crafting schemes, oh so busy.

For everyone knows —
He wishes not to use the divine power that is his, refusing rightful custody.

And in that unwitnessed moment of his death, final tragedy,
He still held the hay cart spell steady,
Standing alone, facing the evil enemy.

Now, that craft is regarded as a magnificent study,
Not because of what it was,
But because of its purpose, known to everybody.

In fact, he once crafted “miracles” —
Forging silent servants, using soil as a vehicle.

Though no sentience, they do their job without obstacles,
Rivaling Titankin in spectacle.

However, one day he suddenly changes his tune —

“Creation is the Titans' work,
And slavery is the Titans' manacle.”

“When imitating divine evil,
There's no need to invest reason most pinnacle.”

When the servants have all been recycled,
He deigns not to explain,
Fearing to waste his reason or muscle,
So he jokingly concludes the questioning with a chuckle —

“If it's just for odd jobs, students are a better gamble.”

The way he addresses himself comes from elsewhere,
An imitation of a divine machine, with some flair.

He happily answers “five questions” for those unaware,
Knowledge seemingly given with stingy care.

“For a wise one,
Five answers reveal creation's secrets, the truth hidden and bold.”

“But a fool,
Learns but naught and is left in the cold.”

“Now, inquire.”

That is in fact the scholar's crafty snare —

He hides the answer he seeks behind questions posed by those unaware,
Doling breadcrumbs as bait to lure and compare,
Whether the inquirer may be worthy of his wisdom to share.

The scholar never looks at laws and measurements,
Ignoring the flow and shift of time's passage,
And uncomprehending students gossip in eager regiments.

“Why? Obviously to drag out class time as a statement.”^[2]
The student's answer seems rather adamant.

“He is panicked by the flow of time,
For his work is yet done, yet to implement.”^[3]
The stubborn assistant interjects in a rare display of testament.

“This man is too arrogant,
And he intends to desecrate Oronyx's accomplishments.”
The passing sage from another school brings admonishment.

Outside the courtyard, the gossip flows into the scholar's ear.
He silently gives a grade to every question and argument,
But none know the true answer, according to his judgment.