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An Otherworldly Scholar - 203
🕑 Added 2025-02-15 08:56:42 +0000 UTC“This is the man that killed the Weasel,” Holst said.
The chatter had quietened with Holst’s first chimed in, but now it completely died. The woman in the flashy tabard, who was a few centimeters away from my face, jumped back like I had the plague.
“Everyone knows the Weasel was a fraud,” the woman stuttered. “He was just Ragna’s pet, you know, to show people he treated nobles and commoners alike. Right? That’s why the Weasel left Cadria after Ragna kicked the bucket. Right?”
The room remained silent.
Janus was more famous—or infamous—than I expected.
“You see, Ghila, Robert Clarke takes things personally when it comes to mistreating his students,” Holst continued. “Did I tell you that four of Clarke’s students are currently studying at the Imperial Academy? You better have treated them well, or I can’t vouch for your well-being.”
Did Holst have an actual sense of humor?
Half of the mana signatures of the room disappeared, while the other half increased—play dead or fight back. I rubbed my temples. Holst had to be a genius joker to trigger the flight-to-fight response in a bunch of Imperial Knights.
“Aren’t you supposed to be lightening the mood at the Imperial Library, Holst?” I asked.
In the corner, a group of black robes laughed.
“I’ve been a martial instructor for a while now,” Holst replied. “Lord Astur asked me to take a new cadet squad this year on top of my regular class. I assume he asked you the same, considering you are here.”
Before I could answer, a man in the sleek Imperial Knight black dress uniform stepped forward. The silver chains keeping his cape in place jiggled against the embroidered pauldrons. His hair was gray like a cloudy day, and deep creases ran across his forehead. His eyes, however, were sharp and energetic, as if he had just graduated from the Academy.
“Did he really kill the Weasel?” the veteran knight asked.
“He did, Rhovan,” Holst replied.
Other than Holst—and Ghila mistaking me for an aide—nobody had spoken directly to me even though the initial fear had passed. Every teacher had seen this dynamic in classrooms before: the passive observers aligning with the existing power structure. Everyone was mimicking Ghila and Rhovan’s reaction, which meant those two had to be the group's leaders.
“Was Janus a fraud, Holst?” I asked.
Holst grinned.
“That’s the thing, Robert Clarke. Nobody knows.”
I scratched my chin. Janus could bypass the Fortifier’s barrier and strip away his victim’s connection to the System, rendering them completely defenseless. He was the perfect assassin. It was no surprise nobody knew how effective he was.
“A Knight Killer teaching at the Academy. Astur really has lost his mind,” Rhovan turned to face me. His hostility felt like a thousand needles against my skin.
The room was quiet, and his words felt like a storm about to break. For me, Janus was a criminal, a murderer, and a plotter. I had overlooked the fact that I had killed one of them, criminal or not. Behind Rhovan, there were four other Knights in uniform.
I expected a hostile classroom but not a hostile teacher’s lounge.
“You think you can just walk in here and pretend nothing happened?” Rhovan said.
I met his gaze.
“I don’t have to pretend.”
One of the other Knights scoffed. Another crossed his arms, shifting his weight slightly as if waiting for the right moment to pounce. Rhovan, however, grinned, realizing he didn’t need to fight to win the encounter.
“The Weasel might have been a fraud after all,” he said as he passed by my side. “I warn you, Robert Clarke, you can fool some people some of the time, but not all people all the time. I will rejoice when the Academy sees you are nothing but a pretender.”
The other Knights in uniform followed.
As expected, the remaining instructors ignored me.
“Well, wasn’t that lovely,” Holst broke the silence.
I watched the door swing shut behind them. The tension lingered like the smell of blood, but after a moment, groups formed, and everyone continued talking like nothing happened. One thing was for sure: I wasn’t invited to any of them.
Holst leaned back on his chair, arms crossed, studying me with mild amusement.
The encounter considerably soured my mood.
“Unless you plan on running, you might as well get comfortable. Not with them, though,” Holst said just loud enough for anyone to hear.
Everyone ignored us.
“Is this how it’s going to be?”
“Probably, but you are still standing, aren’t you?”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering if I just misheard. Was Holst, of all people in the world, pep-talking me? Had the world gone mad?
Holst raised his hands.
“Okay, I admit it, I stole that phrase. The thing is, they are traditionalists. Rhovan and his lot think the Academy should only be taught by Imperial Knights. They would hate you whether you killed Janus or not. That was their way of saying you don’t belong.”
It was good to know that killing an Imperial Knight was a minor offense.
Holst grabbed his book and walked to the door. “Not all Imperial Knights are like them. Some don’t care, and some are pretty interested in you. Look at Ghila. She has been glancing at you this whole time.”
I suddenly noticed Ghila’s eyes fixed on me. [Foresight] hadn’t seen it. She jumped like a startled cat and looked away. I sighed yet again. I have been in many crazy teacher’s lounges before, but this was straight-out surreal.
“We all have something in common, though. We take the instruction of the next generation of Imperial Knights very seriously. It’s our pride, so prepare yourself for steep competition,” Holst said, walking to the exit. “You won’t have allies, only rivals.”
I nodded in silence.
Before Holst could open the door, I stopped him.
“Thanks for the heads-up back then.”
“Don’t mention it,” Holst replied, crossing the doorway. “I did it for Farcrest.”
It wasn’t the welcoming party I expected, but at least it had become clear that I wasn’t a pushover from the sticks.
Classes started tomorrow, and I still had to make preparations. A teacher had three primary weapons: their voice, brain, and appearance, and my wardrobe was severely lacking.
I left the room and asked a lonely cadet how to get to the stables. He examined me, trying to measure the level of respect he should show. To save us the embarrassment, I told him I was a new instructor. His demeanor drastically changed. Not only did he give me instructions, but he also guided me outside the main building to a corner of the courtyard, where several carriages awaited their passengers. Only when a coachman asked me where I wanted to go did I realize they were reserved for instructors.
The cadet bowed and returned to the main building.
“How did you know I was a teacher?”
“It’s our job to know,” the coachman replied. “Where are we going?”
I thought for a moment.
“I need a new set of clothes before the classes start,” I said, remembering the aide’s recommendation. “Outside the inner wall.”
“As you command, sir,” the coachman said, flicking the reins. “I know just the right place.”
*
I kicked the wardrobe, and the door opened. Considering how worn out the runes were, I guessed someone had tried to enchant it many years ago. As a result of the enchantment, the door was weakly bound to the frame, but the effect disappeared as soon as a small gap was created between them. The enchantment looked more like spaghetti than actual readable lines.
Behind the wardrobe’s door was a mirror. I looked at my reflection: soft leather boots, breeches, and a loose white shirt, just like the ones that belonged to Mister Lowell. The main piece of my attire was a short blue mantlet tied around my shoulders by a silver string brooch. On the back of the mantlet, the tailor had embroidered the Rosebud Fencing Academy insignia—the rose and the quill. I ran my hand over the embroidery; the threads were smooth, and the dye was rich.
A knock on my door startled me.
“Lord Clarke?” a voice called.
I instinctively straightened and adjusted my mantlet before opening the door. A young aide with tired eyes stood there. His expression was rigid, almost like he had encountered a rabid dog on his way to my room. Being around many high-level warriors and their dangerous auras all day must be tiring.
The aide extended a small memorandum with a single line—Cabbage.
Classrooms at the Imperial Academy had names. Some names dated back hundreds of years, from when the Imperial Academy was new. Back then, Cadria was the capital of a greater empire composed of Ebros and two other neighboring kingdoms, hence the Imperial. Other names changed every year. Classroom Cabbage was one of the latter—a classroom without a history for a squad of average cadets.
The most promising cadets were personally recruited by the best instructors; the rest were assigned randomly to the remaining squads.
Rhovan had been the martial instructor of Squad Hawkdrake for the last twenty years and had a reputation for producing some of the best Imperial Knights in the kingdom. He had been Lord Astur and Prince Ragna’s instructor, among many other highly regarded figures in the kingdom. And he disliked me.
Things were going to be difficult.
I took the memo and left the teacher’s quarters.
The Academy was a chaos of students running from side to side, opening doors, and sticking heads into the classrooms just to apologize and continue the search for the right one.
The instructors seemed equally confused.
Only a tiny fraction of the instructors lived in the teacher's quarters. Most instructors and Preceptors resided within the inner wall and traveled to the premises by carriage. The ones who lived at the Academy usually came from humble backgrounds or faraway towns. I ignored why Rhovan stayed at the teacher’s quarters, considering his importance at the Academy. However, there was only so much the aides knew, and I didn’t want to raise suspicion by digging further.
Classroom Cabbage was one of the amphitheater-shaped classrooms I had seen the day before. I peeked through the door. Twenty-four cadets dressed in black fencing uniforms already waited inside. Their overlapping conversation reached my ears without rhyme or reason. Laughter burst in a corner. A few cadets gestured wildly, locked in a heated debate. Chairs scrapped against the floor. Old acquaintances meeting again.
I smiled. That was the kind of classroom I remembered from Earth. I looked around the corridor. Except for a few stragglers, most cadets already reached their classrooms. There was no instructor in sight. Was Talindra late?
Suddenly, [Foresight] caught a tiny voice from the front of the classroom.
“Please, be quiet.”
The cadets ignored the warning.
I opened the door a bit more. A woman dressed in an elegant black robe with a green hem stood behind the podium—the uniform of the Nature Circle. Her curly ginger hair fell on her shoulders like ivy tendrils, each lock curling and twisting like it had a life of its own. I couldn’t see her face.
“Students, please. The lesson has already started.”
The chatter only grew louder.
Talindra wasn’t late. I was. Still, I remained outside, watching the scene unfold.
[Foresight] picked out what the cadets were saying.
If we ignore her, she might leave.
Or cry.
Ugh, I don’t want the Cabbage Lady to be my instructor.
We are going to get fucking expelled if we don’t get a real instructor.
Don’t worry. I can make my father transfer us to Hawkdrake Squad.
Man, I bet she looks great without the robe.
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. My hopes of a class of super-motivated students crashed down in flames. It wasn’t my first time witnessing students bullying a teacher. The last time I saw it happen was a long time ago when I was two or three years into my teaching career. [Foresight] played the memory behind my eyelids. I found a substitute teacher crying in the bathroom during recess, but I wasn’t brave enough to help her. I thought it would be embarrassing for her, so I stepped back in silence, and she left before I could bring it up. I was so stupid back then. However, that mistake helped me be more attentive to my students. I still felt a hint of guilt.
Talindra didn’t seem to have experience managing a classroom.
I channeled a bit of mana into my hand and slammed the door open, almost ripping it off the hinges.
“Good morning, cadets,” I said, projecting my voice to reach even the furthest corner of the classroom.
The chatter suddenly died, like someone had sucked the atmosphere out of the room.
I gave Talindra a friendly smile, but she was too stunned to notice.
“Before starting, let’s set a few base rules,” I continued without skipping a beat. “First of all, the moment you cross the doorway, you will lower your voice, take a seat, and prepare your material. If you are not mentally prepared to attend a lesson, you are free to stay outside and take your conversation to the gardens. Second. Showing respect towards your classmates and your instructors is paramount. I won’t tolerate disrespectful behavior whether I’m present or not. You will behave like a proper cadet as soon as you enter our classroom. Understood?”
There were a few shy answers, but the vast majority looked at me like I was crazy.
“May I know who you are?” A tall kid with curly blond hair and an upturned nose said. He had the poise of a high noble. I could tell by his body development he was older than the rest. He must’ve delayed his examination and wasn’t happy with my performance.
“Great question. For those who haven’t realized, I’m your martial instructor. My name is Robert Clarke, but you can call me Mister Clarke or Instructor if you prefer,” I said.
I couldn’t help but notice an unhealthy amount of disdain from the group surrounding the tall blond cadet.
“You aren’t an Imperial Knight. Why should we obey you?” he said. “If we want to survive the first selection exam, we need to have the best instructor the Academy can offer, not whatever this commoner fest is.”
That was an excellent point. Selection exams were no joke. Half of the cadets didn’t survive the first semester.
“If this class is not to your liking, you are free to leave,” I said.
The kid was taken aback.
“Leave? No. I’m not leaving anywhere. Do you know who I am?”
I looked at him for a moment.
“I actually do,” I said, scratching my chin. “I saw you two years ago during the tournament at Farcrest. You are the son of Lord Gairon, Esteffen. You were sixteen back then.”
Esteffen Gairon paled.
I remember Team Gairon’s bracket against the Imperial Cadets. I was sitting by Prince Adrien’s side in the VIP box. Prince Adrien had told me Esteffen didn’t have what it took to become an Imperial Knight. Then, the harpy cadet had swept the floor with him, ten barriers broken against zero, and considering his reaction, Esteffen seemed to remember that event rather vividly.
“You have come a long way, Esteffen, and I understand your demand for the best instructor available,” I said. Despite his behavior, I wouldn’t out his shameful memories in front of the whole classroom. No teacher should. “Raise your hands if you have heard of Basilisk Squad?”
Out of the twenty-four students, twenty raised their hands.
I had devised a little plan to make things easier for Talindra and me—mostly Talindra.
“Those of you who believe they can survive the Basilisk Squad’s teacher, keep your hands up.”
Half of the hands went down, some begrudgingly, others rather quickly. At least they were honest. Basilisk Squad was infamous for dropping students even before the selection exams. Most of the top squads did, which served to pad the approval-to-failure ratio when the selection exams came.
Aides knew a lot. Coachmen knew even more.
“I have a proposal. I’m a close friend of Preceptor Holst, so if you don’t want to be part of Cabbage, I will ask him to accept you into Basilisk,” I said.
Holst would accept. The more cadets in his squad, the more chances he would have to find top performers. He had a lot to win from the exchange, and in the worst case, I would owe him a favor.
“Keep your hands up if you want to be transferred to the Basilisk Squad,” I continued. “Think about it. I won't drop anyone before the first selection exam, but there is a good chance Preceptor Holst will.”
Some hands went down, but in the end, seven remained up. Among them Esteffen Gairon and his little group. A lot less than I expected.
“Alright. I will talk to Preceptor Holst after classes. If he doesn’t accept, you will be welcomed back to Cabbage, and we will go along as if nothing happened. For now, you aren’t part of the squad. You are dismissed.”
The group of cadets left the room with satisfied expressions on their faces. Holst, after all, was regarded as one of the best martial instructors despite his short time at the Academy. He would turn them into diamonds if they had the endurance to survive his class.
In the corner of the room, a group of cadets whispered in a state of panic.
We should take the offer and leave.
Father didn’t order me to transfer to another squad.
Come on, Malkah. He will demolish us when he realizes it’s us.
I recognized them instantly. It was the group of cadets who had tried to get me in trouble with the city guard—the ones who had destroyed Ralgar’s freezing pumpkins. Malkah remained unfazed by his friend's pleas. His expression was hard as stone.
“Another familiar face! Mister Malkah of Krigia, it’s good to see you and your friends again,” I said. “How is Ralgar doing?”
Malkah’s followers exchanged a glance of sheer terror.
“I haven’t spoken to Ralgar since yesterday,” Malkah replied matter-of-factly.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take my offer? Considering what transpired yesterday, you might feel more comfortable with a different instructor,” I said.
Malka’s followers pleaded with him to reconsider. The rest of the class wondered why I inspired so much terror in so many students. I could see it in their faces.
Malkah seemed slightly confused with the whole situation.
“Is there a problem with Cabbage Squad? Will I be unable to become an Imperial Knight if I remain here?”
“There is no problem with Cabbage Squad,” I replied.
Other than the name.
“Then I see no point in transferring,” Malkah said, his voice lacking any inflection.
I glanced at Malkah’s friends. They were terrified yet remained by Malkah’s side like two loyal dogs. After Esteffan Gairon’s departure, no one else asked for a transfer to Basilisk Squad.
With all the basics covered, I turned towards Talindra.
She flinched.
“Would you like to take it from here?”
“Yes, please. No problem,” she stuttered.
I sat down at the teacher’s desk. The truth was, I had no clue how to proceed and no one to ask for help. The instructors had avoided me since my encounter with Rhovan, and Ghila and Holst weren’t in the teacher’s quarters after I visited the tailor.
Talindra cleared her throat. His voice came out just as weak as before, but at least the cadets were silent now.
“Good morning, everyone. Congratulations on getting accepted at the Academy. My name is Talindra of Mistwood. I’m a new Preceptor at the Imperial Library and will be your magical instructor for the duration of the year,” Talindra said, slowly gaining confidence. “If you are curious, I am a Lv.47 Silvan Witch. My basic class was Herbalist.”
Herbalists usually turned into Alchemists.
The Book of Classes didn’t mention the Herbalist to Silvan Witch line.
Talindra explained the meal schedule and the curfew. I already knew that part, so I let my mind wander. Talindra didn’t look like a high-level spellcaster. She was a bit on the thicker side; her expression was soft, and her eyes were compassionate. Although her facial features were on the unconventional side, with wide-set eyes and bushy brows, she was undoubtedly attractive.
Her lack of presence wasn’t about her appearance, but her presence was simply too weak. It was hard to describe, but high-level people could fill the room alone with their presence alone. When a high-level warrior entered a room, there was no doubt they were a high-level warrior. Talindra, on the other hand, seemed like a low-level Herbalist. She didn’t even look the cadets in the eye despite having thirty or more levels on them.
Suddenly, Talindra pulled a scroll from her sleeve.
“Now, with the important part,” she said, lifting the scroll for everyone to see. “This is the reason why you were given the Silence Hex.”
It took me a moment to realize what the scroll was.
“Another hex?” A cadet with a mousey face asked.
[Foresight] instantly pinged my brain. I recognized her. She was the urchin who had tried to rob me the day I arrived at Cadria. Only after a moment she realized that her question had given her away.
Talindra seemed to be happy that the cadet had correctly identified the scroll..
“Yes! This is another hex, but not any hex. This is the secret of the Academy’s success.”
Comments
I Dare Korval
I think you are right, Shu was the harpy. She'd probably get a good laugh out of it anyways.
(ALo) Adam L
I thought it was the two snake kids, not Shu that was obsessed with the potatoes... I might be misremembering though 🤷
Trevayne
I wonder how long it will take them to realize why their new instructor knew about Basilisk squad.
Ben Bass
TYFTC! It will be interesting to see what Holst does to those cadets who wanted to transfer. I am wondering what is up with Talindra, and how much will Robert help pull her out of her shell as well. Now, will Rob ask the ‘former’ thief how her sister is?
I Dare Korval
Robert should try to change the Classroom name from Cabbage to Potato. Shu would love to hear Mister Clark is training Potato Knights.
Jouni Osmala
I would expect Horst to test his Squad after those cadets are added, fail 7 weakest cadets and give them choice to transfer to a teacher who is the only one he knows that can salvage that kind of weaklings or leave the academy. Or just push the cadets to a point where many feel they are going to fail and then give a one time offer to change to a squad with a capable teacher he knows that won't fail anyone before exams for performance but only for disciplinary reasons telling that Basilisk squad is going to have 7 less students at the end of the day. Or send fewer back, but basically, giving Rob few students that would have failed for performance but not attitude. Or maybe just fail the weakest performers and tell them if they don't get accepted by cabbage squad's Martial teacher in to their squad they would fail the academy at the end of next day, so they should go ask permission to join their squad in the morning from the teacher. So basically only those who would be willing to humble to ask permission to join the squad would get there.
