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An Otherworldly Scholar - 241
🕑 Added 2025-07-11 20:37:27 +0000 UTCTalindra threw daggers at me as the royal delegation entered the classroom.
I added ‘bad friend’ to my List of Misdeeds just below murder, arson, and indecisiveness. The list continued, but those three plagued his mind the most lately. Maybe I should even push ‘indecisiveness’ a few positions higher. The Byrne Problem hung over my head like a sharp sword, but I couldn’t make it disappear without proof. I had nothing on Byrne other than a flawed plan to evacuate a continent of a few million over the following decades. However, Firana was right. I had to assume Byrne knew I was a Runeweaver, given my origins and the System's need for a person of flesh and blood to fix its code. Still, even if Byrne knew, he hadn’t done anything to earn my enmity. On the contrary, he had been teaching me more and more runes.
I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Talindra. After dealing with many people of all ages and backgrounds over the years, a teacher like me should be able to dial their social compass correctly. But alas, I was still poorly equipped to understand Ebrosians. The silver lining from our fight was that I knew Talindra was a capable fighter. I didn’t expect anger to trigger her powers. It made everything even more confusing. Being called names was anger-inducing, yet she hadn’t shown her fangs—spider legs?—to anyone, even when she had plenty of reason.
I had no time to continue pondering my shortcomings as a friend because Archivist Evelisse entered the classroom. Instead of her green robe, she wore a yellow dress with jade sequins and green accents. A wimple covered her head, adorned with a golden tiara that resembled a stag's antlers.
A picturesque retinue of nobles trailed behind her. Most wore fine clothing in a combination of green, yellow, gold, and neutral tones. The ladies wore long capes and veils that had to be transported by one or more handmaidens. That may be the hottest trend in the court, but I couldn’t tell. One way or another, the length of their garments was just ridiculous, and the fact that they had such a large retinue was strange. As far as my observations went, Ebrosian nobles didn’t seem to enjoy having armies of servants pampering every little whim that crossed their minds. On the contrary, they appeared to be wary of anyone outside their inner circle. Without going any further, during the feast in Farcrest, no servant was allowed inside the ballroom.
At the group's tail, a man dressed in pure black entered the room. A shiver ran down my spine as alarms went off in the back of my brain. His features were ordinary, but his eyes were sharp, as if he could see through solid objects. He glanced at the room as he moved his head in a circular motion, like he had a tic. His expression made me think he wasn’t a completely stable person. It had been a while since I’d seen one of them. Sniffers. The other two I met during the feast didn’t seem completely sane either. I wondered if the System picked peculiar people for the job, or if it caused some sort of disturbance in their senses that made them that way.
The nobles weren’t concerned about the Sniffer trailing them.
“Instructor Clarke, thank you for having us,” Evelisse said, as if we were complete strangers. Strands of gray hair spilled from the sides of the wimple, and her yellow dress gave her way more presence than her pajamas.
Evelisse introduced me to her family members. Everyone had close blood ties with the main branch of the royal family. There were no outsiders and no in-laws, just pure royal blood. I received a few courteous words of praise from each of them, mentioning how outstanding our performance in the selection exam was. Talindra got nothing, even though she was standing a meter behind me and made a curtsy after every royal was introduced.
Their recognition sounded empty in my ears.
Finally, Evelisse introduced me to her daughters. The eldest, Lissara, was a young woman with the same angular face and slightly hostile eyes as her mother and long chestnut hair braided with strands of gold. The youngest, Althea, looked more like Prince Adrien, with curly, almost white hair, a small and slender frame, and big, expressive eyes. Althea looked at me with a curious expression while Lissara ignored me.
The Sniffer passed by our side and stood atop the spot Talindra had thrown on, sniffing the air. He said nothing and made a complete lap around the classroom before standing near the corner with a boring expression. I must’ve smelled like a regular Ebrosian because he didn’t notice me.
“Has Prince Adrien returned to Cadria already, Lady Evelisse?” I asked as the last of the royals was introduced.
I couldn't ignore that my question raised some eyebrows from the oldest in the pack.
“Adrien might take a bit more before returning. You know how Karids are, they foresee storms after watching a few specs of dust dancing in a strange pattern,” Evelisse said without skipping a beat. “That little boy loves exotic places more than his motherland, I swear!”
[Foresight] sounded every conceivable bell in my mind. Not that I hadn’t noticed the lie. With the Farlands Campaign getting to its last legs, and the corridor between Cadria and the elven kingdom of Tagabiria open, it was strange for Prince Adrien to be outside the kingdom. Sure, the Karid country was relatively close to the southern frontier, past Osgirian territory, but something important was happening on Cadrian soil. Ultimately, the royal army was also a huge delegation about to hit Tagabirian territory. I held no doubt that every single dukedom had its best diplomats as close to the tip of the spear as possible.
“I thought he’d be with the army,” I pointed out, wondering if I was pushing it too much.
“He should,” Evelisse said, dead serious. “That’s why he might not be the best candidate for the throne.”
Lowering the crown prince to a ‘throne candidate’ was too close to treachery for my taste.
“The cadets will be here in a moment,” I said, steering away from the conversation. Scholars were known for being curious, but I would rather be alive-curious than dead-curious. The inner machinations of the royal family were a tad too risky for my liking.
“Lissara here seems to be a perfect match for Baram’s Cursed Runeblade, if the boy ever succumbs to the curse, of course,” Evelisse continued, gesturing towards her daughter. “Did you know the heirs of the Cadria family are selected by their affinity to the Runeblade? We are not the first family with control over the blade, but something in our blood makes us especially resilient. The others that have tried to wield the sword had perished.”
“That sounds fascinating.”
“Oh, it is. A suitable vessel for the Runeblade, like Lissara, would bring a long and stable reign.”
I considered stuffing my fingers in my ears. At least that explained the number of royals in Evelisse’s retinue. I counted twenty of them, all adults ranging from barely teenagers to middle-aged veterans. None of them seemed outraged at Evelisse’s words, so I assumed all of them were part of her faction.
If they were fishing for someone to endure the Runeblade, then going wide seemed the most natural way of keeping the dynasty alive.
“Speaking of perfect matches, my youngest—”
“The cadets are here!” I announced, thanking my little angels for interrupting Evelisse. The lively sound of teenagers' conversation filled the corridor outside the classroom. Fenwick yelled words I couldn’t understand, and Leonie replied with something that could only be interpreted as a severe scolding.
Even if I wanted to mingle with the royal family, I wasn’t picking a faction whose to-go dressing color was piss yellow.
Evelisse and the royals advanced to the chalkboard as their aides deployed wooden folding chairs. The student desks were withdrawn into the wall, and the dueling platform covered most of the classroom. I looked sideways at the aides arranging the capes and veils so they wouldn’t get entangled with the rest of the nobles who tried to seize a good spot.
As soon as the cadets crossed the doorway, the chattering died.
“Good morning, cadets! As you might have noticed, we have guests for today’s training session. They are not here to test you, so I don’t expect you to act any differently from every day,” I said as the cadets froze in place. “You can perform the regular pleasantries, of course.”
Leonie, as usual, reacted first. She walked across the room and performed a bow in front of the nobles, slightly centered on Evelisse, who was in the front. Yvain and Malkah followed closely after. Then, the rest, with different levels of awkwardness. Someone must’ve instructed how to deal with nobles because even Fenwick performed a successful greeting that Evelisse invariably ignored. I noticed three levels of bowing. Malkah barely nodded. Yvain, Leonie, and Aeliana bowed their head. The rest performed deep bows and curtsies.
The young royals sitting in the back row whispered.
Are you sure he’s Adrien’s supporter? He’s teaching the Osgirian kid.
Isn’t that the cursed Almedia child?
I ignored them.
“Shall we start?” Evelisse asked.
“We are having a guest today. He shouldn’t take long.”
Evelisse gave me a quizzical look, but her question was answered right away. Holst burst into the classroom like he owned the place, followed by his not-so-confident students. He wore his usual gray fencing uniform, with his black hair tied in a ponytail. Not even the spring sun of Cadria seemed to give color to his pale-yellow skin.
Ilya and Firana closed the procession. I wanted the four orphans to be present during the training, but Zaon had finally been sent on an assignment with the rest of the Rosethorn Squad, and Wolf was overseeing the Wolfpack in our attempt to bait the anti-nobility faction out of their hideaway. So far, we hadn’t succeeded.
“Instructor Clarke, Instructor Mistwood, thank you for having us,” Holst said, walking to the center of the room and performing a gracious yet swift bow before the royals. “Grand Archivist Evelisse.”
The old woman gave me another curious glance. Exercises between squads were unheard of at the Imperial Academy. Passing rates were huge among instructors, whether Imperial Knights or librarians, so nobody wanted to taint their teachings by training with another section. There has to be a certain degree of secrecy to maintain a superior passing rate, but I wasn’t sure how zealous the other instructors were.
I met Talindra’s eyes. If she had been throwing daggers at me, now she was sending arrows and spears, probably with a poison coating.
“I promised Holst we would do inter-squad exercises. You were there, remember?” I whispered.
“That doesn’t make it any more enjoyable,” she grunted back.
Holst might not be a ray of sunshine, but he was the closest thing to an ally we had in the Academy. Besides, Ilya had already been inoculating my teachings at the Basilisk squad. One way or another, Holst already had pieces of my teaching methods. I saw nothing wrong with giving him the rest of the puzzle. He might not be the most charismatic teacher, but he thrived for excellence, which was more than I could say of many of my old colleagues and university classmates.
Counting both the Cabbage and Basilisk squads, we had twenty-five cadets. It was a good number, nearly filling the classroom to capacity, and almost the same number of original cadets before half of the squad dropped out on the first day. The funny part was that some of the dropouts of Cabbage had survived the selection exam and were now back. I smiled at them like saying ‘no hard feelings’. The Gairon kid hadn’t passed.
“Alright, cadets! Today, we will work together with Instructor Holst and the Basilisk squad. I want you to treat them with the same respect we treat each other at Cabbage. If they don’t know something, tell them, and if they are falling behind, help them. Understood?”
“Yes, Instructor Clarke!”
“You will answer truthfully if they ask you anything, right, Fenwick?”
The boy recoiled like he had touched a live wire.
“R-right,” he said, inhibited by the new crowd.
Even with half the royal family inside the classroom, I knew the calming effect wouldn't last.
“Let’s start with the warm-up. Only one lap around the lake this time! Basilisk squad, follow Leonie, and you will be fine. Go!” I said, clapping my hands.
The cadets exited the room and jogged down the corridor until their footsteps got lost in the distance.
“The running thing was true,” Evelisse pointed out as the royals echoed her findings in a hushed voice.
“It’s the backbone of our training routine. It helps cadets to improve their pain threshold while getting more accustomed to their body movements. Running will improve their cardiovascular endurance in a short period and show them that they are progressing. Oh, and it also clears their worries and puts them in the right headspace to train combat,” I replied. “I don’t understand why Instructor Holst hasn’t introduced it in his lessons yet.”
Evelisse didn’t overlook the comment.
Holst knows.
“The reason why I haven’t adopted it is a healthy dose of skepticism. Improving the cadets' stamina through breathing-intensive exercises seems to have diminishing returns as they level up. However, the other benefits Instructor Clarke enumerated might be worthwhile. Teens can be… antsy.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that Holst could have problems with classroom discipline.
The cadets returned a few minutes later. My inner clock told me that Leonie had been considerate of the Basilisk squad's undeveloped cardiovascular conditioning. Holst had made them sign the binding contract, turning them into Lv.5, so their physical prowess was still in the realms of regular people.
The System seemed to have a special fondness for exponential growth.
“Rup, please guide the flexibility routine, and don’t flaunt your flexibility too much. We don’t want our guests, or Fenwick, to pull a muscle so early,” I said to no one’s amusement. The Cabbage cadets were still too intimidated by the royals behind me. “Go on, you can laugh. We are not here to impress Lady Evelisse. We are here to show her a regular training session.”
Rup climbed to the dueling platform while the other twenty-four cadets spread across the three empty sides in a vague half circle.
“Is being a comedian part of the Clarke’s method now?” Holst asked with a half-smile on his face.
“Would you find throwing one or two jokes per session objectionable, Darius?” I replied, loud enough for the Basilisk Cadets to hear me.
The ice was cracking.
“I can crack one or two jokes, I guess. You should’ve seen the parties I used to throw at the Scholar Tower. Those were no joke, though,” Holst said in a dry voice.
This time, he caught me off guard. [Awareness] couldn’t tell if he was joking or telling the truth. I tried to read his expression, but he turned around and focused on the cadets. I would’ve tried to probe him more in any other situation, but the royals were making unhappy sounds.
“Young people learn better in an environment of high challenge and low stress, Lady Evelisse. Please don’t mistake the relaxed atmosphere for a lack of discipline. The following exercises will push the cadets to their limits,” I explained.
“It seems an odd combination,” Lissara said.
Other than Evelisse, she seemed to be the only one allowed to speak out loud.
“You can build discipline without cruelty, and respect without fear, Lady Lissara.”
“I’m unsure if your students respect you or merely put up with your methods because they seem to work. Most people will suck you dry if you give them free rein. That happens when you show a sliver of wealth or talent. It’s only natural for the weak to leech on the strong.”
Althea slapped her sister’s shoulder.
Maybe it was my imagination, but for an instant, Talindra looked particularly guilty.
“I don’t care if students leech from me,” I replied to everyone’s surprise. “I’m happy with my students taking from me as much as they can. No strings attached. No questions asked.”
With certain limitations, of course.
“That’s a very radical standpoint,” Evelisse said.
“I like to believe my students wouldn’t turn into bandits.”
“What about enemies? Infighting isn’t all that uncommon,” Lissara said.
“Then, I’d expect them to treat me with the same respect and dignity I gave them.”
I wasn’t deluded enough to believe all kids were perfectly kind and well-intentioned. Some came from fucked up families, backgrounds with diametrically different values, or simply had acquired a taste for humiliating others. I did believe, though, that those behaviors could be corrected. The earlier, the better.
Evelisse seemed satisfied with my answers, so I walked away from the chalkboard, pretending to oversee the stretching exercises. Rup was showing off, bringing her head to her knees while the others barely reached their toes. Now that I thought about it, every single cadet was a show-off in their own style.
I looked around. Any mysticism around my teaching methods started vanishing. Cabbage and Basilisk cadets were helping each other. I had made clear that Holst knew much more about my methods than anyone wanted to admit, and everything was done under the vigilance of a bunch of gossipy royals. Everyone at Cadria will know very soon that I wasn’t keeping some ancient Chinese training method hidden from the world. That would make the orphanage and everyone around me a way less alluring target.
Evelisse was in for a rough awakening.
“Footwork drills!” I announced, channeling my mana and drawing three parallel ladders on the planks of the dueling platform with [Mana Mastery]. I wish I had a whistle. It would’ve been a lot more stylish that way. “Cadet Ilya told me you are all already familiar with ladder drills. Let’s start with one foot in each step. At my sign.”
The cadets were already used to our training routine, so they didn’t waste a moment getting into the starting position. Leonie, Kili, and Fenwick led each of the groups. I clapped my hands. They sprinted at full speed to the other side of the dueling platform and returned, backpedaling to the end of the lines. I clapped again, and the next set of cadets ran the ladder.
“Push it a bit more, Kili. You were faster last week!” I shouted.
For the next half an hour, the cadets did footwork drills. One foot on each square, two feet in each square, in-in-out-out, ickey shuffle, and a few lateral variations. Advance, retreat, and lunges. I could tell at first sight that I had been hammering the footwork exercises a lot more than Holst had. The Basilisk cadets weren’t sluggish, but even Odo, the slowest of the Cabbages, was swifter than them. A couple of royals laughed at the uncharacteristic movements, but Evelisse gave them the death stare that made them pale.
“Do these eye-catching exercises have a reason to be?”
“Footwork drill helps the cadets improve their speed, coordination, balance, and reaction time. At every level, a tenth of a second is plenty of time in a fight scenario. This training aims to reduce the reaction times as much as possible.”
Evelisse didn’t seem entirely convinced.
“I understand the importance of those in a fight, but as they level up, the System will make their bodies faster and stronger. Almost all combat classes have a way to be faster, whether it is through their movement or their reaction times. Weapon masteries do that. Isn’t this just a low-level gimmick?”
To my surprise, Holst answered for me.
“Evidence indicates that measurable improvement occurs at least up to level twenty-five. Instructor Clarke’s old students have shown an edge over the rest of the cadets during the past two years. I can vouch for Cadet Ilya. She has no skills or passives that improve her reaction time beyond the expected enhancement of her Class, yet she can keep up with Duelists at her level.”
Evelisse gave us a pensive look.
“Interesting. Our Scholars haven’t written about such topics?”
“Not to my understanding. If Grand Archivist Eldrin had found out, he surely would have announced it to the world,” Holst replied.
Talindra had remained aside for the duration of the class, looking at the cadets and offering them small advice. The royals, in return, had ignored her. Her anger wasn’t all that unwarranted. I wasn’t the one who should make decisions on her behalf.
I approached her and tapped her shoulder.
She didn’t look at me.
“Look, Tali. I know I should’ve been more tactful, but this is it. I’m entrusting you with something important to me. Something a lot of people want. Something that you have, and if you don’t stand for yourself, they will trample you to get it,” I said. “I have to know. Are you in, or are you out?”
Talindra covertly nudged me. In faun culture, nudges seemed to be low-rank hostility demonstrations, almost like a frown. I couldn’t help but think it was kinda cute.
“Of course I’m in! I like teaching and I want to become even better!” Talindra whispered.
“Good. You are in charge of the lesson, then. This is also a test,” I smiled.
Talindra looked at me like a deer in front of the headlights.
“Y-you asshole! Traitor! Rotten-hoof!”
Faun's insults were too cute to actually be mad.
“You have done it dozens of times already, you are great at this. Show them your witchy side,” I grinned.
Comments
@Alphamoonman
Why would he have to assume Byrne knows he's a runeweaver? Didn't they already talk about runes—something only runeweavers would know about and have access to?
crazyray
Characters have actually character, enough area to have friction, some even less sympathetic and everything is still very believable and convincing. Interesting and fun read.
