elra
patreon
An Otherworldly Scholar - 148
🕑 Added 2024-08-07 02:11:43 +0000 UTCCaptain Kiln put a mountain of old dresses on Ginz’s workbench and started sorting them. In one pile went those Izabeka owned before turning thirteen, and in the other went those who looked like circus tents. I grabbed a cute salmon evening dress from the left pile. In a single garment, there was enough fabric to make three dresses for Ilya. Even before getting her Class, Izabeka was a big kid.
Every dress was as good as new. The pieces that weren’t in mint condition showed the same wear patterns: loose fabric around the shoulders and frayed edges on the hem, almost like she had made some violent arm movements in them.
Izabeka must’ve misunderstood my expression because she got defensive.
“What? My dad hoped to marry me into nobility, so he geared me accordingly,” she said. “Unfortunately, I was built like a hog, and his hopes finally died when I killed the Forest Warden.”
“I wasn’t implying you were a pampered rich girl,” I replied.
Izabeka rolled her eyes.
In the meantime, Ginz selected the clothing to sew Elincia's new dress. The old blue one, although perfect, had already been seen too many times. Izabeka had pressed the matter, and with Ginz’s approval, they decided Elincia needed to renew her wardrobe. Of course, none of them asked for our blessing.
“Elincia has a nice figure, but we should avoid showing skin. Otherwise, we will have a small army of quarter-elves shitting on the floor soon enough,” Captain Kiln said with a mischievous smile.
“Luckily, Rob learned Silence Dome the other day, so at least any Rob-lings will come as a surprise. I hope they inherit Orcbud’s brains, though,” Ginz replied as he examined the fabric of a green and golden dress.
“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you to the curb, Ginz,” I sighed.
Since Kellaren had abandoned the city, Izabeka was in a great mood. She usually crashed at the orphanage once a day to hang around and play cards. At first, Astrid wasn’t happy, but she was getting accustomed to it.
“So, Thane Clarke, are you ready to swear fealty to the Farcrest Family?” Izabeka said.
“We have to win the finals first,” I replied, maintaining my best poker face.
“I wonder what your triumphant card will be this time. I can see in your face you have something up your sleeve,” Izabeka tapped on her scarred lips. “It’s not good for a Thane to hide things from their lord.”
“You hide many things from the Marquis,” I pointed out, throwing a small cape at her face.
“My job is to take some work off his shoulders,” Izabeka shrugged.
“And my job is to stitch up a dress, so please stop arguing and lend me a hand. It was your idea to play dress-up with Elincia, so you better help,” Ginz said.
Begrudgingly, I started digging through the pile of dresses but didn’t stick around long enough to see Ginz’s progress. The finals were in the afternoon, and I had more important things to do than play assistant seamstress. I left Izabeka and Ginz alone and walked into the sleeping quarters. The kids had been working hard the past few days, so I gave them a few more hours of sleep despite it being a weekday.
I knocked on their doors, and they came out. Everyone was already awake and dressed except for Firana. Her messy hair seemed to have been caught in a hurricane.
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” she greeted me, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall. I thought she had fallen asleep again, but she opened her eyes a moment later and walked down the corridor like a zombie.
Zaon and Wolf followed her, ensuring she didn’t stumble into anything breakable.
I stopped Ilya before she could follow the rest.
“We have to talk,” I said.
“I already apologized to Firana,” she replied, trying to slip away.
Gnomes were built to scurry through small spaces, but I summoned a solid mana fence between her and the corridor’s exit. Ilya tried to separate the bars, but the spell resisted her gnomish strength. With a long sigh, she gave up.
“This is borderline abuse.”
“For any complaints, go to Elincia.”
“Elincia is blinded by love,” Ilya said, stepping back from the mana fence and leaning against the wall, hands behind her back, eyes down the corridor. It was quite the defensive posture. It screamed, ‘I don’t want to talk.’
“Elincia is too smart for that,” I replied warmly. “Not that it matters. I’m more worried about you. Something happened during the match against the Osgirians?”
Ilya looked around, but there was nowhere to hide.
“You already know what happened. I lost.”
Ilya’s opponent was a Lv.8 Sword Dancer, yet she only ended the match down three points.
“A single defeat won't determine your value, Ilya. You also have the best score of the team,” I said.
Ilya sat down with her back against the wall and hid her face between her arms. I sat by her side, and she leaned against my shoulder. For an instant, Ilya was the tiny gnome hiding in the space between the manor and the old shed. When she raised her head, however, she seemed more pissed than sad.
“It’s not about the match. It’s about Firana,” she admitted.
I knew what Ilya had to say, but I let her get it off her chest. I let her do the talk.
“Firana is different. Even at level one, she’s way better than me, and the gap will only increase. No matter how much I work, I will never reach her,” Ilya said.
The System was unfair by design, and so was life. More often than not, life forced people to play with an awful hand, and no mulligan was allowed. Some were born in wealth, others in the most abject misery. Some had a knack for numbers, business, or sports. Others were just lucky. For each success, there were dozens of failures.
“You don’t need to be Firana,” I said. “In fact, I would rather you stay as Ilya.”
A smile tugged the edges of her mouth.
“You know what I mean.”
I collected my thoughts in an instant.
“Yes. I understand. You want to have it easier. Every living human has thought about that at some point in their lives: If I were taller, richer, more handsome, or smarter, everything would be fine with my life,” I said. “Honestly, they might be right. A thousand pieces of gold would be very handy right now, but it’s just wishful thinking. You are Ilya from Farcrest, and no amount of wishing will change your situation. You might wish to be Firana, Captain Kiln, or that annoying elf from the Sentinels, but that thinking will not take you anywhere.”
“It’s unfair,” Ilya said.
“Yes. It is, but it can’t be changed. This is your dealt hand,” I replied.
Ilya gave me a suspicious glance.
“You said that can’t be changed, yet you are trying to change things around the orphanage. Hence, you believe it can be changed. Gotcha, Scholar.”
I gave Ilya a soft bump on the shoulder.
“I’m not trying to turn everyone into Firana—God help me if I were—but helping you to become the Ilya you want to be, a happy and accomplished Ilya,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulders and giving her a good shake. “And, if Ilya becomes happy and accomplished, she will help the little ones also to become happy and accomplished.”
Ilya rested against my side in silence.
“This is a secret, but Firana also wants to be more like you,” I whispered.
“I guess Firana isn’t that dumb, then,” Ilya said, pushing my arm aside and jumping onto her feet.
The moment passed.
Ilya helped me get up, and we left the sleeping quarters. With only a few hours until the final match, I had no plans for lessons or training, just meditation and light exercise to prepare the kids’ bodies and minds for the last test. The Imperial Cadets were stronger than anyone else, but with the kids’ new titles, I knew we had a real chance of winning.
“Have you thought about your future after the tournament?” I asked.
Ilya crossed her arms. “I might apply for the Sentinels. That way, I will be safe from conscription. I will also meet other Hunters like me so I can get a real mentor.”
“Ah, very funny! You don’t want to become an Imperial Knight?”
The Knight title was the highest honor a commoner could achieve, and it even put them over several nobles in the kingdom’s power ladder.
“I’m more like Elincia. The big city is not for me, and it’s not because gnomes and crowds don’t get along,” Ilya shrugged. “This is my home, and I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“I hoped you would go with Firana and Zaon to the Imperial Academy if they get accepted. It would be a relief if you could look over them,” I said.
Ilya stopped and frowned. “You just told me I should follow my path, and now you guilt-trip me into following Firana and Zaon’s steps? You can’t be serious.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s your call,” I said.
“It is, though?” Ilya snapped back.
“I wouldn’t trust in any other.”
“And I really, really need another mentor,” Ilya said, storming through the kitchen’s door.
__________
The story about a group of local orphans getting into the finals of the Stephaniss Cup spread like wildfire. Everyone in the city and several small neighboring towns wanted to be part of history. During the last three days, the royal geomancers had expanded the arena, making it taller and wider to the point that it competed with the Great Hall. It was hard to see from inside the pavilion, but the arena seemed to overflow over the inner wall.
“There’s a lot of people out there,” Zaon mentioned.
It wasn’t a complaint but an observation. After three tournament rounds, he was getting accustomed to being in the spotlight. It was an advantage that we were the locals. The VIP box didn’t seem as packed as in the previous rounds. The most influential nobles from the royalist faction remained there, but the ones from the ducal faction had decided to skip the match. Captain Kiln had told me they weren’t happy about a bunch of commoners making it to the finals; it reflected poorly on their noble lineages.
At least Lord Vedras seemed to be enjoying the situation. He chatted animatedly with the leaders of the Alchemists Guild despite his team being eliminated early in the tournament. I wondered if he planned to take advantage of Farcrest's position in the new trade routes to trade the potions brewed by Mariposa’s Alchemist Circle.
The crowd cheered at the pre-match performance of the four elemental fencers, but I was barely looking at them. The group exited the arena and was replaced by a band of musicians dressed in the most flamboyant suits I’ve ever seen. Nobles and commoners dressed in colorful ways, but the band took it to the next level. There wasn’t a square inch that wasn’t covered in sequins or small mirror pieces.
Elincia grabbed my hand and pointed into the arena.
“I can’t believe I’m finally seeing Bards play! Mister Lowell always used to talk about them,” she muttered, her voice overflowing with excitement.
“Are they good?”
My question fell on deaf ears because the band scratched the song's first notes. Despite the lack of amplification equipment, the sounds rang clear in my ears. But it wasn’t just a song. There was magic in it. In the blink of an eye, the spell transported me to a different place. Dragons crossed the sky, beautiful and deadly dryads jumped from tree to tree with their evanescent bodies merging into the bark as if they were the same thing, and packs of hundreds of Black Wolves rushed among the trees.
Elincia was still by my side, but everything else had disappeared. The arena, the spectators, the pavilion, and the kids were nowhere to be found. An illusion? It was too real. I could hear the sounds of the forest and feel the smell of wet earth, the warmth of the sun, and the smell of rotting fallen leaves. My heart skipped a beat when the wolves turned and ran in our direction, but before I could react, they passed through me like I was a ghost.
“Ah! You flinched,” Elincia mocked me.
I poked her ribs. “What are we looking at?”
“Just watch. It’s my first time too.”
The illusion transported us to a valley trapped between serrated mountain ranges I didn’t recognize. A small group of humans lived in a wide, lush cave lit by green, blue, and yellow moss. The entrance was blocked with a tall palisade. It was my first time seeing such a scene, but I knew what was happening. The System kneaded my brain, and the information appeared in my conscience. I was seeing ancient, systemless humans. I understood their struggles, their nocturnal fears, and their lack of hope in a dangerous world.
Not everything was wilderness, though. The illusion showed us orc tribes, elven outposts high in the trees, and vast harpy nests atop inaccessible mountains. Compared to the other races, humans were small rodents scurrying in the underbrush, careful not to make any noise and alert the bigger predators. We returned to the cave. In the deepest part, a circle of humans performed a magic ritual to hide the entrance. With their joint forces, they could barely move enough magic to maintain the spell. It was pitiful despite their effort. Even my Minor Illusions required more mana.
Elincia tugged my hand and guided me through the cave. The most advanced piece of technology was a small loom. Gatherers collected the fruits of a hanging vine, while healers mixed herbs into primitive poultices. Older men and women looked over the kids while the warriors guarded the entrance. The warriors wore hardened wolf pelts and wielded stone and bone weapons, while the rest had simple tunics. The craftsmanship of the weapons was exquisite, considering the living standards. Maybe they were part of a more prominent tribe that broke up?
The System kneaded my brain, and I knew rival tribes and monsters had wiped up the tribe. Despite the distance separating me from the events, I felt sad.
We continued exploring, but there wasn’t much else to see. There had to be twenty or thirty humans in total. In a corner of the cave, a wooden cage served as a prison for a single occupant: a chubby little man dressed in yellow rags. My heart skipped a beat. This time, I was the one dragging Elincia through the cave. In the palm of the chubby man’s hand, smudged by blood and dirt, a mysterious rune shone with a faint blue gleam.
“Motherf—”
The Bard Song finished, and I returned to the contestant’s pavilion. I looked around. Everyone seemed a bit disoriented. The crowd took a moment to recover from the experience; then they burst into applause.
“It was just like in the stories! The smells, the sensations… I thought I was there,” Elincia laughed, squeezing my hand.
“What did we just see?” I asked, wondering if that was real or just an illusion created by the band.
The Man in Yellow was there, though.
“A Bard’s Song, duh,” Elincia mockingly said. Only a moment later did she realize her mistake. “Oh, right. Sometimes I forget you are not from here. That was a Bard Song, the unique skill of Bards. What you saw was a scene from the past, just the way it happened. Bard Songs only show what happened, real events. Usually, nobles employ Bards to show the kingdom their feats and achievements, but in this case, they showed us Systemless humans.”
The Bards bowed three times and left the arena.
“I don’t think those were just Systemless humans. I think the System didn’t even exist by then. The System Avatar was there.”
“Oh…” Elincia said.
The Man in Yellow had the mysterious rune engraved on his skin. Did he expect me to do the same? How did he expect me to realize I should do that? Although my experience with runes was short, I knew mishaps usually ended in explosions, and putting an unknown rune on my body wasn’t high on my list of wishes. The mysterious rune had something to do with the beginning of the System; I was sure about it.
The Master of Ceremonies' voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Today, in this arena, the most talented youth of the kingdom will be decided! Please, give an applause to our finalist teams.”
The crowd roared, and the ground trembled.
“Let’s go,” I said, putting my worries aside.
The rune will have to wait. This was a moment for the kids.
Elincia stood behind, inside the pavilion, while I opened the march into the arena. By my side, Holst guided his team of Imperial Cadets. Their gray uniforms were unremarkable, but everyone in the arena knew their actual skill. We formed, and my eyes met Holst’s.
“You proved me wrong again, Robert Clarke, but can you win the finals? My team is very motivated not to be expelled from the Imperial Academy,” he said.
The Imperial Cadets remained unfazed.
“Let the kids speak for themselves,” I replied.
“Agreed,” Holst bowed.
The aides carried the System Shrine into the arena. The opaque blue orb rested in its bronze and copper nest. No matter how much I looked into it, its depths remained dull, without a hint of the runes on its surface. The Master of Ceremonies activated the orb, and small System prompts with the kids' names, classes, and levels appeared in front of them. The Cadets didn't have the flashiest classes: Sentinel, Fencer, Brawler, Monk, and Illusionist. However, they had dominated the tournament.
“The Imperial Cadets have the best score, so they will go first,” the Master of Ceremonies said.
That gave us a slight advantage.
“Mihli,” Holst said, and the harpy girl stepped forward. She had the same golden coloration as Shu, so her appearance threw me off. At least I knew adult harpies weren’t as fragile as birds.
“Firana, your turn,” I said.
Despite the Cadets' future being in the line, Holst seemingly picked randomly. In less than a minute, the matchups were ready. Firana was against the Harpy Sentinel, Zaon against the Fencer, Wolf against the Monk, and Ilya against the Brawler. I didn’t recall the Illusionist fighting a single match, but I wouldn’t complain about easier matchups.
We saluted and returned to the pavilion.
“Remember, Firana, the harpy probably has a level three Sword Mastery, if not higher. Try to stay away from her reach and only attack when you see an opening,” I grabbed Firana by the shoulders and forced her to look at me. “Be careful with her spear. She will try to throw—.”
Firana grinned. “I have mana to spare, Rob.”
That was the part that worried me the most.
Firana snuck a quick hug before skipping to the weapons rack. She picked a longsword and entered the arena. The harpy, as expected, chose a short spear and a sword. [Awareness] couldn’t read her face. Despite the possibility of being expelled from the Imperial Academy, she didn’t show a hint of nervousness.
Both girls stood in the middle of the arena: Firana greeting the spectators and the harpy just standing there, tall and silent, waiting for the Master of Ceremonies to kick off the match.
“Don’t hate me if you break a leg after you fall,” Firana said.
“Your Aerokinesis isn’t strong enough to bring me down. I’ve seen your fights.”
Firana grinned.
“Combatants, to your positions!” The Master of Ceremonies yelled, and the girls retreated a few paces each. “Raise your guards! Fight!”
The harpy moved her wings and rose a meter off the ground. She always opened her fights with a spear throw from on high. Firana channeled her mana but let her opponent rise into the sky. When the harpy was two or three meters above the arena, Firana pulled an invisible rope.
The harpy’s face lost all color as she fell. In a panic, she moved her wings. She only managed to slow down her fall and forcibly slammed into the ground. When the dust settled, a hint of fear appeared on her face.
“You see, there’s this invisible magic thing called density floating within the air. When you pull the density out of the air, you can’t stay afloat,” Firana said, walking forward with a know-it-all grin. Then, she whistled a falling noise and a splat sound.
The harpy jumped to her feet, but Firana was already upon her. They exchanged quick hits, but the harpy was still dizzy from the fall, and Firana pushed the spear away. With a diagonal swing, Firana shattered the first barrier.
The crowd roared, Elincia squeezed my arm, and the kids cheered. We could do it. My heartbeat was a buzz. Being a spectator was difficult, but I could do nothing other than let the kids do their thing.
“You can do it, Firana!” I yelled.
The Harpy Cadet dropped her spear and unsheathed her sword. “Bring it on.”
“You better be ready, Chicken Wings,” Firana replied, raising her guard.
Out of nowhere, a chill hit my face and a shiver ran down my spine. A pair of electric eyes appeared before me, cold with malice. I rubbed my eyes, and the image disappeared. The oppressive sensation, however, remained. I was sweating cold.
The spectators rubbed their hands but remained focused on the combat as if nothing happened. The high-level nobles in the VIP box, however, exchanged confused glances.
“Something’s wrong. I can feel it,” I muttered.
Before Elincia could reply, the sound of bells enveloped the arena. The same bells that announced the arrival of the royal army. The crowd fell silent. Firana and the Harpy Cadet lowered their weapons and looked around. Ice clawed over the inner wall and into the arena like the hands of the undead.
The Master of Ceremonies’ voice echoed through the arena in a panic. “Monster Surge!”
Comments
Cazitron
Well, I can't help but think that this "Lich" of ours is more human than we first thought—to the point of disguising as a human, or they are a human, and they can hide their identity in the Lich form.
Mohamed
Thanks for the chapter!
Logos
Perhaps we're seeing a return of the lich, unimpressed with having a mountain dropped on him? Then again, how could this news arrive so late, with the sentinels out there on the prowl? Curiouser and curiouser
