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An Otherworldly Scholar - 196
🕑 Added 2025-01-22 02:33:35 +0000 UTCAN: In Chapter 194, I wrongly implied only one year had passed since the Lich's Monster Surge. Actually, they are approaching the second anniversary of that event. My apologies.
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The orc miners celebrated our return like we had just slain a dragon. Astrid and Ash enjoyed the attention while I snuck around the group to talk to the pit boss. I told him about the Stonemason Ant nest near the mine and recommended abandoning the northern tunnels until Elincia’s ant repellant was complete. Even after telling him about the deposits of precious gems and metals on the old ants' exoskeleton, the pit boss wasn’t happy with the new directive.
After two years living among orcs, I learned a few things about their culture. For starters, bluntness wasn’t considered disrespectful as long as it was the most efficient way of communication.
I sighed.
“You will stay away from the northern section. That’s an order,” I said.
The pit boss grunted.
“Understood. We will move to the southern section, but I will keep a few eyes on the northern drift,” he said, gathering his workers.
The orcs returned to the mine, and I signaled Astrid and Ash to get the horses.
Little One and his firing squad waved goodbye as the horses walked along the railroad path.
Only when I was out of earshot, I spoke again.
“When I identified the Woodcarver Leader, the text on the prompt was corrupted,” I said.
“You are reading way too much into it. There has to be a million corrupted monsters with corrupted text out there in the Farlands, far from Scholar’s identification powers,” Astrid shrugged, using me as a backrest. “Monsters have spells, sometimes.”
I may be seeing signs where there were none.
“What do you think, Bucko?”
The horse snorted.
“See?” Astrid said. “You have to relax, Rob. Maybe make three or four roblings with Elincia in the meantime. Didn’t the System guy tell you you have a decade to learn runeweaving?”
The System Avatar had said that.
“He hasn’t contacted me since we defeated the Lich,” I pointed out.
“Then everything continues as planned,” Astrid said. “Think about it. He would have found a way to contact you if there had been bad news. He already did once.”
The last time the System Avatar contacted me with bad news, Astrid had become corrupted. He hadn’t worried about the consequences for her as long as I acquired the Access Rune. Now, Corruption covered Astrid’s body from feet to shoulders. It wasn’t a perfect black coat like the skin of the Greyfangs, but tentacles of Corruption constricted her body. At least she wouldn’t turn into a corrupted monster any time soon.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to—”
“I will kill you,” Astrid cut me off. “I don’t want to be a Zealot anymore. If Corruption is what it takes to keep the Questlog silent, so be it.”
Bucko snorted.
There were sections of my mana pool I couldn’t yet understand, but I hypothesized a delete function was hidden inside. Corruption wasn’t the best solution to Astrid’s problem, but I didn’t want to weigh her with a promise I couldn’t fulfill.
I looked over my shoulder.
“What?” Astrid asked.
“Give me your wand,” I replied.
She dug into her hidden pockets and gave it to me. The Gustblade Wand was a copy of the wind wand Nasiah had in her store for self-defense. Ginz made it. The wand was thirty centimeters long, made of white oak wood and a slime core. The slime core was enchanted with an underpowered Gale Rune. Unlike the Wind-Shot Boots, which required user mana, the Gustblade Wand had a Storage Rune that powered the effect. Astrid only had to use tiny amounts of mana to activate the User Rune, and the enchantment did the rest. The mechanism was perfect for non-combatants and classless people. The only downside was that someone else had to recharge it.
Bucko slowly walked by the river path while I recharged Astrid’s wand.
The sun hovered above the western mountains. The orc farmers had called up the day and bathed in the river while the older orcs looked over the kids. On the sawmill, the workers continued peeling logs.
“Y’all work too much!” Astrid yelled as we passed by.
The workers laughed but continued working.
“Maybe you work too little,” Ash, who had been silent all the journey, said.
“This is my first recess in a decade, and I plan to laze and leech as much as possible,” Astrid replied, using me as a backrest.
Despite her words, Astrid worked as much as Elincia and Risha. Ginz didn’t count because he was an addict to crafting. He could spend days without sleeping in order to bring his ideas to reality. Lyra’s presence had only worsened his condition.
We crossed the bridge and climbed the hill. The old white oaks appeared in our view first, their lush branches like a white blanket against the sky. Izabeka and the kids had finished the training because no one was around to greet us except for Teal Moon warriors armed with enchanted rifles guarding the perimeter.
With so many new kids running around and the occasional visitor looking for potions or merchants arriving at the manor’s entrance, it was better to keep my runeweaving endeavors away from the main house.
Astrid and I returned the horses to the stables while Ash entered the manor to join dinner with the other orphans.
“Go eat something. I will take care of the horses,” I said.
Astrid remained in the stable doorway so as not to alarm the animals.
“Thank you for your work, Bucko,” I said, scratching the horse’s mane.
Bucko snorted and drank water. Then, without waiting for me to guide him, he turned around, entered his preferred stall, and closed the door behind him.
“He clocked out,” Astrid pointed out.
After stalling Ash’s horse, we walked the path by Whiteleaf Manor’s side, up the hill and past the grove, into Lowell’s Manor. In practice, Whiteleaf Manor was the main building of the orphanage, where the kids had their bedrooms and classrooms. Lowell’s Manor was the teacher’s residence.
It took half a dozen Earth Magicians and Geomancers and a crate full of mana potions to move the manor outside Farcrest and across the marquisate. For a whole day, the city stopped to see the manor being raised above the walls and down the other side. The second part of the trip was more straightforward. We just put the manor over a huge stone platform and rolled it over cylindrical stone pillars. By the end of the voyage, structural damage had been minimal, and it took a few gold coins to hire a squad of builders to repair everything.
That was the first time I got [Mana Exhaustion] since my promotion to Sage, so I promised myself not to attempt it again.
Lowell’s manor was empty.
“Everyone must be in the dining room,” I said.
I left the pouch with the gems and minerals in Elincia’s bedroom, and we returned to Whiteleaf Manor. The construction crews had become rich at our expense, but Whitelead Manor had become operative in record time. The original construction was in good condition despite the passage of time, and most of the work was done on the roof.
Magical constructors weren’t just efficient but extremely entertaining to watch.
We entered Whiteleaf Manor through the main entrance. The vestibule was unrecognizable compared to how we encountered it two years ago. New stone tiles covered the floor, the walls were plastered and painted white, and most of the beams had been replaced by new ones. The double staircase was also renewed. Ginz crafted the new handrail with the silver roots of the old Forest Warden. The style was organic, and the natural silver color of the roots gave it an elegant appearance. In the center of the staircase, Elincia hung the crest of the Rosebud Fencing Academy: the rose and the sword in blue and silver. Next to it, smaller in size, she hung the crest of the Kiln family: the black shield with a red flame.
The left staircase led to the classrooms. Whiteleaf Manor had twice the surface area of Lowell’s Manor and was two stories tall, so we had rooms to spare. Each teacher had a classroom, except for Ginz, who had two, one for teaching and one for storing materials. Ginz’s classroom was open for kids who wanted to spend time after class.
The right staircase led to the sleeping quarters. We kept the same housing strategy as before. The youngest kids slept in the communal room, and the older ones had individual rooms. However, we had so many kids that we had to set up shared rooms for everyone between ten and fourteen years old. Only those who were a year away from getting a Class had a private bedroom.
The kitchen, scullery, pantry, servants' quarters, and dining room were on the first floor, clumped together in the western wing. The eastern wing had a library, study room, drawing room, ballroom, gallery, music hall, and conservatory. Most of it was open for the kids to use. To Lyra’s dismay, no one showed much interest in the library. At least the little ones enjoyed her storytelling events, although most fell asleep after the first thirty minutes. Lyra had a nice reading voice.
In practice, we spent most of the time at Whiteleaf Manor and only returned to Lowell’s Manor to work on our personal projects or sleep at night. Izabeka and Astrid were the only ones who had their rooms in the main building. Izabeka was the warden, and Astrid was there to oversee the little ones.
Now that I thought about that, Astrid had been pushing the ‘robling spawning’ matter with words but also with acts.
I sighed. At least Astrid and Elincia were getting along great.
As we passed outside the study, a group of new kids approached us.
“Headmaster! Miss Elincia told us there was an emergency and we should stay inside. Is everything alright?”
Elincia had started introducing me as the headmaster, so the name had stuck with the new ones. The original members of the orphanage still called me Mister Clarke.
“A few dozen Woodcarver Ants invaded the mine, but Miss Lowell and I dealt with it. Everything is under control,” I explained.
The kids sighed in relief.
Despite all the luxuries and commodities, we were still technically in the Farlands. Farcrest kids had grown up under the constant menace of monsters from the north and the west, so they were conditioned to fear the wilderness. Many were still a bit scared of being outdoors, but the strong presence of orcs in the hamlet across the bridge helped soften the transition. The fact that Izabeka was the hero of the people also helped a lot.
In the city, people called us crazy for moving the orphanage to the jaws of the Farlands.
“Don’t stay up late, kids. Tomorrow, you will be training with me,” I said as a goodbye.
The kids exchanged excited glances, but I didn’t get my hopes high. I was significantly less demanding than Izabeka, and the kids knew it. They wanted an easy lesson, not the teachings of the legendary Prestige Class. Everyone was making significant advances, but we still had to encounter a generation as bright as our first graduates.
Astrid and I continued walking toward the dining room.
“Say it again,” Astrid said after we left the kids behind.
I gave her a confused look.
“Miss Lowell?”
Astrid’s goofy smile went from ear to ear.
“Don’t make it weird, or I’m telling the kids to call you Astrid,” I said.
“Come on! Don’t be like that!” Astrid elbowed my ribs. “Miss Lowell. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but feel happy for Astrid. Despite all the time we spent together, we didn’t discuss her dreams and aspirations much. I knew she adored Mister Lowell, so it wasn’t hard to guess she was in the place she wanted to be.
“About the roblings…” Astrid pointed out, but I interrupted her.
“We have enough kids running around.”
“Come on. Mister Lowell always said the more the merrier!”
Astrid continued poking fun at me until we reached the dining room.
The dining room was a rectangular hall with white walls and a high ceiling crossed by oak beams. Three sturdy tables made by orc carpenters ran parallel in the center, each flanked by an assortment of different stools, chairs, and benches. Only one of the three original chandeliers had endured the passage of time well enough for Ginz to repair it. The chandelier nested clumps of light stones that cast warm light over the room.
Luckily, nobody questioned the amount of light stones in the orphanage. As Farcrest grew, one could find them on sale in the main market.
Elincia was perched on a ladder, recharging the light stones while the kids took their positions around the tables. Ash was sitting near the head of the table, surrounded by orphans who listened to his adventure in the mine.
Elincia climbed down the ladder and came to greet us.
“How many times have we talked about making Astrid fight monsters?”
The answer was more than a few, but Astrid rarely obeyed my commands, and I wasn’t usually in the mood to boss the teaching staff members around. Astrid did whatever she wanted most of the time. Despite the lecture being aimed at me, Astrid jumped in her defense.
“I’m not useless! I can fight perfectly fine with these,” she said, showing the wands hidden up her wide sleeve.
Elincia grinned and gave her an affectionate nudge.
“When are you going to listen?” She jokingly said.
“Says the one who notoriously ignored Mister Lowell’s orders,” Astrid retorted.
“What do you mean? I’m a very tame and obedient governess. I always obey what the Headmaster has to say.”
She didn’t.
Elincia and Astrid laughed. Although I never mentioned it out loud, they were more alike than anyone wanted to admit. Maybe that was one of the reasons they never got along when they were younger. Now, they get along great, and it wasn’t just because Astrid looked after the little ones, allowing Elincia to sleep continuously all night long.
“The ant outbreak is under control, but we might still need the repellant,” I said before explaining to Elincia about the Stonemason Ant grave and the metal and gemstone deposits on their backs.
Elincia sighed.
“Is it safe? Having a nest so close to the hamlet, I mean.”
“The ants let Ash pet them, so I guess they are pretty tame,” Astrid said.
I clenched my teeth, bracing for the impact.
Elincia’s eyes shot wide open.
“You let Ash do what?!”
Across the diner room, Ash slid down his chair and hid among the orphans.
Luckily, Risha appeared through the service doors in the back of the room, carrying a cauldron full of barley, peas, and carrot soup. Two old orc ladies followed with bread baskets, butter bells, and jugs of water. The smell of herbs and spices washed away the phantom smell of the ant nest.
We employed a total of three orc housemaids to help with the chores around the orphanage. Orcs weren’t keen on receiving money as payment, so they named a few items each month, and we acquired them at Farcrest. Lately, jewelry had become trendy among orc ladies, but in previous months, they asked for spices, iron nails, liquor, cheese, woolen cloth, and weaving tools.
Izabeka’s call echoed across the manor, and the orphans who had been left behind appeared in the dining room.
Elincia and I helped Risha and the orc ladies serve dinner. The older kids eyed their bowls with ravenous hunger. Izabeka’s training regime had that effect on people. After everyone had their food, we sat in the corner of the first table—the teacher’s corner—and poured our bowls. Fighting off the ants had worked up my appetite.
The orc housemaids rarely ate with us. Orcs weren’t used to the decibels made by twenty-something orphans gathered in the same room. Today was the exception. Maybe the older kids were too tired and hungry to make the usual fuzz, but dinner was calmer than normal.
“The calm before the storm,” Izabeka joked. “Tomorrow, they will be unruly.”
“I hope not,” I said, turning to Risha. “How is everything going on the northern pass?”
Risha grabbed a piece of bread from the basket.
“No big monsters in sight. A herd of Stone Golems left the western mountain and headed north, but they caused no trouble,” he said. “A flock of Roc Harpies has been eyeing the peaks near the quarry, but I doubt they will settle down. Too much noise.”
I was going to ask about the harpies when my bracelet buzzed. I thought it was Elincia trying to catch my attention, but it buzzed again. Risha fell silent. We exchanged a worried glance. Then, the bracelet buzzed for the third time.
Three buzzes meant trouble.
The detection pins I had scattered along the valley caught a strong magic signal.
“Risha, with me,” I said, leaving my bowl on the table. “The rest, stay here.”
Nothing weaker than a Lv.30 martial Class spell could disturb my detection pins. I couldn’t tell what pins had been disturbed without the main panel at Lowell’s Manor. My bracelet didn’t stop buzzing.
We exited the manor just as a group of cloaked figures landed on the high road.
A gust of wind made my shirt flutter.
A wind mage?
The Teal Moon warriors clutched their rifles but kept them hidden.
“Did you invite anyone?” I asked.
“There shouldn’t be guests until Elincia’s ingredient delivery tomorrow morning,” Risha replied.
One of the cloaked figures greeted us as they walked down the road. They weren’t regular travelers. The group leader was wearing a black cape with a yellow hem. It wasn’t a traveler's cloak but a fine dress piece. The other two travelers wore armor under their cloaks. [Foresight] told me the three of them were high-level combatants. The skill didn’t catch a sign of aggression.
“That’s the uniform of the Imperial Library,” Risha whispered to my ear. “I remember them from my time in the army. Yellow hem means he’s a magical combatant.”
My stomach got queasy. Bad news traveled fast, and high-level combatants were the fastest in the kingdom.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the robed man said. He looked vaguely like a fox, but his voice was deeper than I expected—pure business. “I’m looking for Mister Robert Clarke. I was told he had a residence in Farcrest, but we found nothing but an empty plot when we reached the address. The neighbors told us we could find him here.”
I took a step forward.
“That would be me,” I said.
The man examined me. My dust-stained shirt and the simple riding pants weren’t something a Prestige Class should be wearing. Still, the man with the vulpine features seemed to accept my words at face value. He pulled a scroll from his pouch and handed it to me.
I examined it. The wax seal showed an owl carrying a rosemary twig. I didn’t recognize it. The seal was overloaded with mana and only broke when I matched the amount of magic—a simple yet useful tick. Anyone under level thirty would’ve failed, which protected the scroll from most of the population. The scroll extended on its own.
To Robert Clarke of Connecticut.
We kindly request your presence at the Imperial Knights Academy to discuss an important matter concerning your son and daughter’s Cadet activity. Please visit at your earliest convenience, not after the third month of spring.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
Sir Gwan Astur, Grandmaster of the Imperial Knights Academy.
I reread the letter thrice in case I missed something.
“What is this about?” I asked.
“I don’t know, sir,” the man said. “I’m just Wind Mage from the Library. I was told to deliver the letter as fast as I could.”
I turned and handed the letter to Risha. He read it in silence.
“If they sent a Wind Mage instead of a regular Courier, this has to be serious.”
I glanced at the letter, wondering who had gotten in trouble.
One thing was clear: my daughter had to be Firana.
Comments
I Dare Korval
Well it did say "concerning your son and daughter’s Cadet activity" so it may be something involved with their starting their third and final year there. Maybe they have optional paths and they are resisting doing what the Academy wants them to do.
Ben Bass
TYFTC! I do love the small village/hamlet that they have going, they really have set things up for the long term. Now as for the message, it probably is Firana and Zaon. I do wonder what trouble they have gotten in to, Firana goading someone and Zaon stepping up to protect/interfere. Oh boy…
ElAyVee
Knowing how Firana looks up to Rob and her family has brought her nothing but grief. It would not surprise me if she renounced her family.
David Ellis
Nah, Firana is the Aias heir, it's not her. :)
