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An Otherworldly Scholar - 134
🕑 Added 2024-06-12 23:58:51 +0000 UTCThe kitchen remained silent as Corin recited the message.
“Lowell’s Orphanage will not face Team Farcrest. Instead, your next rival will be House Herran.”
I froze in place. The happiness from Zaon’s Class disappeared in a single swipe, and the feeling of helplessness invaded me. I couldn’t remember the last time good news wasn’t immediately followed by bad news. The reaction of the others was the same, and it seemed as if someone had drained all the happiness from the kitchen.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Lord Herran’s team is a top performer, just like us. Why did they decide to pair us together? Shouldn’t the best performers be paired with the worst ones?”
By the end of the four combats, we had a comfortable eleven-point advantage, putting us near the top of the ranking, just behind the Imperial Cadets, House Osgiria, and House Herran.
Corin apologetically shook her head. “I’m just the messenger. Prince Adrien and the tournament organizers made the decision behind closed doors, but I heard the reason was to avoid friendly teams knocking out each other.”
I cursed. Once again, we were forced to play with the hand dealt, which wasn’t a particularly good one. The matching against the Marquis Team was more beneficial. Their best combatant was Istvan Kiln, and Ilya had already shown she could stand toe to toe against him. On the other hand, the Herran Team scored a difference of fifteen points, and many of their members had Advanced Classes.
The Herran Team would be hard to crack. Lord Herran was one of the strongest warriors in the kingdom, and his team was made up of his illegitimate sons and daughters. All of them must have, at least, the [Strong] trait.
I rubbed my temples. Nothing made sense, even with Corin’s explanation.
No ‘official’ factions competed in the tournament besides the individual teams. The royalist and the ducal factions weren’t official blocks of teams but an untold political rivalry, so our fight against the Marquis shouldn’t have posed any problem.
Moreover, the wording of Corin’s message was also strange. She referred to us as ‘Lowell’s orphanage’ instead of ‘Rosebud Fencing Academy’. I wondered if the change of name came from above. The Osgirians? The Marquis? The Prince? Holst? I didn’t know who I could trust anymore.
Maybe I was getting paranoid.
“What are we going to do, Mister Clarke?” Zaon’s voice brought me back to the present. There was no hint of fear in the boy’s face, just resolution.
I smiled.
“We would fight to win, of course,” I said. “The imperial cadets defeated House Gairon’s team despite having Class and Level disadvantages. I don’t see why we couldn’t replicate their feat.”
There was no reason to run away. Sooner or later, we would face a stronger opponent.
“I’m sorry, Zaon, but we must work on your birthday,” I added.
“No problem, sir. I will gather the team,” he said, putting Corin’s hair fork in his pocket and darting out the kitchen.
Corin stood in the middle of the kitchen, unsure what to do.
“You are also part of the team, Corin. Go with Zaon,” I said.
The girl nodded and crossed the kitchen like a bullet.
As soon as Corin left, Astrid kicked Risha’s shins and broke free from his grip.
“I wasn’t going to do anything to her,” Astrid complained. The kick didn’t seem to make a dent in the half-orc physique. Astrid, on the other hand, limped to a chair.
“I just wanted to make sure. Corin is legit, and she seems to like Zaon,” Risha replied.
Astrid grumbled a string of insults as she examined her foot. Pitch-black fur covered her leg up to the knee, and her feet were more akin to a wolf’s than a person's. I had a dozen questions about beast folk biology but saved them for later.
“I feel like I kicked an anvil,” Astrid grunted.
“That’s because I used [Iron Skin], dear little sis,” Risha grinned.
As a single child, sibling quarrels were unfamiliar territory for me, but I knew Risha and Astrid could continue for hours at a time. We had more pressing matters to attend to.
“Any news about the System Avatar?” I interrupted.
Astrid raised her eyes and gave me a conflicted look.
“No sign of him but…” She stopped and looked around for prying orphans before limping to the door to close it.
Astrid unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a black patch of Corruption the size of a coin under her collarbone. I was too familiar with that shape. The black tendrils dug into her flesh, forming a corona like a black sun. Elincia grabbed Astrid’s shoulder and examined the Corruption.
“What happened inside? Was Zaon affected?” I asked.
“Zaon is okay,” Astrid quickly said as she touched the Corruption patch.
From my own experience, I knew it felt like normal skin.
“Zaon took his sweet time, which is not strange when someone gets offered many good Classes or none at all. I have maintained the trance for much longer periods. People usually argue with the System when they don’t get what they want, so it isn’t Zaon’s fault,” Astrid explained. “This time, however, it became harder and harder to maintain the trance as if someone was putting pressure over my shoulders.”
My mind raced. Was this type of malfunction the reason the System Avatar wanted me to fix the System?
“This isn’t good,” Risha said, and Ginz nodded. They were pale, and even if they tried to hide it, a hint of panic appeared on their faces.
“I feel fine,” Astrid replied.
Three bad news for every good one: Zaon had gotten a good Class, but we had to fight the Herran Family earlier than expected, there was no news about the mysterious rune, and Astrid had gotten Corruption, and we didn’t know why.
I approached Astrid and checked her eyes while feeding [Awareness] with a wave of mana. The skill collected all my medical knowledge, which wasn’t much, and informed me Astrid’s eyes looked healthy. So did her skin and mouth. Nothing was green or yellow or putrid, which was a good start. The most surprising part of the examination was that Astrid let me perform it without complaining.
“I’m going to use [Identify] on you,” I said.
Astrid nodded and stood still.
Name: Astrid Lowell, Wolf Spirit Beastfolk (Night Vision, Keen Senses).
Class: Zealot Lv.31
Titles: Silver Zealot, Hundred Quests, The Mercy of the System, No Land Nomad, Sullen.
Passive: Tracking Lv.5, Acrobatics Lv.5, Dagger Mastery Lv.4, Stealth Lv.4, Riding Lv.1, Zealot’s Questlog, Unrelenting Stamina.
Skills: System’s Channeler, System’s Sight.
Status: Corruption, Relieved Lv.1.
I tried to focus on the Corruption status, but when I used Identify, half a dozen System Prompts charged with corrupted text exploded before my eyes. I pulled my mana and stopped the skill in case the broadcast could infect me.
“You seem healthy enough. As long as you don’t go around using your skills, you will survive,” I said.
“A Zealot’s Quest doesn’t pause,” Astrid replied with a mocking grin.
“If you use your skills, there might not be a turnback,” I said, almost sounding like an angry father. “I’m talking seriously, Astrid.”
“I’m also talking seriously,” she replied. “Such is the life of a Zealot. When the System calls, I have to answer.”
I massaged my temples. If Kellaren attacked us and the System compelled Astrid to protect me, then her Corruption would only grow. What worsened the situation was that we would be unable to avoid conflict if Kellaren decided to make a move. I scratched my chin.
“We have to ensure Astrid doesn’t use her skills, then,” I said.
“Should we chain her in the basement?” Ginz asked. “I know a blacksmith that—”
Astrid’s tail bristled.
“No,” I stopped Ginz before he could finish the sentence.
We had my shotgun, but I wanted Elincia to have a way of protecting herself. A rifle? Developing casings and rifling would take time and Astrid needed a way to fight right now. A musket? They took an eternity to reload, and they weren’t particularly precise. A flintlock gun wasn’t much more efficient.
“I need you to build a shotgun,” I finally said.
I wasn’t a fan of introducing firearms to this world, but the situation called for it.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’ve already performed some attempts behind your back?” Ginz grinned.
I massaged my temples. Ginz had constructed a barrel prototype to test his homemade shells before shooting them with the real shotgun, so it didn’t surprise me he had gone a step further.
“Good. Just don’t craft anything that could explode on Astrid’s face. Time is of the essence, but safety is more important,” I sighed, knowing that Ginz’s workshop was far from OSHA-certified.
“Safety! Wiser words ever said,” Ginz replied, but the glint of madness in his eyes and the thin white scars on his cheeks from the failed attempts didn’t leave me at ease.
If someone could fix Ginz, that wasn’t me.
I clapped my hands.
“Alright! Ginz, you go to the workshop. Risha and Astrid, you two are experienced combatants, and I need your help in the strategy meeting. Elincia, I need you to provide Ginz with Energy Potions. I want that bad boy working twenty-five hours a day,” I said. Everyone nodded and rushed to complete their tasks until I was alone in the kitchen. “I will clean the plates, I guess.”
As I collected the dirty bowls, a gloomy thought assaulted me. It was almost a revelation. What would happen if Astrid’s Corruption wasn’t an isolated incident? Hundreds of kids got their classes daily across the kingdom, and I wondered if the Zealots helping them were also getting corrupted. The world's inhabitants didn’t know how to live without a Class. The news of the faulty System would fly, and chaos would ensue.
If that were the case, we would soon know.
_______________
We were already waiting outside when the ornate carriage stopped before the manor. I helped Elincia and Ilya climb on it while the driver secured the straps around the skeeth’s heads. The skeeths hissed at each other, throwing bites and tail whips at anyone who dared come near. There was no doubt why the royal army preferred them over horses in war zones. The creatures were vicious, and only a high-level Beastmaster could keep them in check.
We sat in the roofless carriage, Elincia, me, and Ilya on one side, Wolf, Zaon, and Firana on the opposite, and the driver stirred the skeeth to get us going. Risha and Astrid waved goodbye from the door, surrounded by the little ones and Loki, back in his dog form. Ginz had remained in the workshop, working on his prototype.
After some discussion, we settled on the most straightforward mechanism possible. The design prototype was more like a musket without a flintlock mechanism than a break-action shotgun. It looked dangerous, to say the least, but it had very few moving parts. We had even decided to replace the mechanical trigger with an enchanted one. The enchantment served two purposes: if the firearm fell into the wrong hands, they would have a hard time replicating it, and second, Ginz would never know about the existence of slam-fire shotguns.
The world was safer that way.
As soon as the carriage entered the market, the crowd surrounded us. Luckily, the skeeth’s presence was enough to make the pedestrians allow the carriage to keep moving. After the first round, our fame had significantly increased, and everyone in the market saluted us as we went through.
Elincia happily greeted the crowd.
“We’ll be fine. Our strategy is flawless,” she said.
“I hope,” I replied.
The carriage crossed the inner wall and the Great Hall yard as the spectators slowly walked through the gardens towards the arena. The attendance was greater than on the competition's first day, and I wondered if they would fit in the stands. I sighed. The first round established the teams with real chances of winning the tournament, and now the brackets were more interesting.
“Do you think I can place a bet on ourselves?” Elincia asked, patting her dress and making the coins in her hidden pocket clink. [Awareness] told me she had at least eleven silver coins and the same amount of copper.
“That would be unsportsmanlike conduct,” I replied.
“[Awareness] says we pay three to one, though,” Zaon pointed out.
It seemed we were the underdog yet again.
“I guess betting on yourself is not that bad if you don’t try to alter the outcome,” I sighed. Extra money meant extra funds for potion and crafts development.
The carriage stopped before the stone stairs, and the driver opened the small door. A group of attendants were already waiting for us near the entrance and guided us inside the Great Hall. As expected, the vestibule was empty except for a few low-rank nobles chatting in the corner. There was no sign of Corruption spreading through the continent, which meant Astrid’s situation had to be unique. I hoped it was.
I stayed alert in case we stumbled upon members of the Church of the System, but the corridors were equally deserted. The attendants were guiding us down the same corridor adorned with murals toward the fighter's pavilion when Zaon stopped me. He seemed worried for some reason but didn’t voice his concerns. The attendants gave us a quizzical glance.
“We will catch you in a moment,” I said.
The attendants nodded and guided Elincia and the other kids through the door by the end of the corridor.
“What’s the matter?” I whispered as we were left alone.
Zaon squared before me. “I would like to formally pledge allegiance to the Rosebud Fencing Academy.”
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Zaon. I already believe you are reliable and trustworthy. You don’t need to pledge allegiance to anyone other than yourself,” I replied.
Zaon blushed.
“N-no, It’s for the skill. Sentinel’s Oath,” he stuttered. “If I pledge allegiance to the Fencing Academy, it will help me protect everyone instead of a single person… I think. It was Ilya’s idea. We stayed up late—” Zaon froze.
My last instruction yesterday was for the kids to get to bed early.
“How does that work?” I asked.
The skill had piqued my curiosity. It might be what the orphanage needed.
“Sentinel’s Oath is a detection skill. It allows me to find the recipient of the Oath and warns me if the person is in danger,” Zaon explained. “Ilya believes that if I pledge an oath to an organization, I will be able to protect all the members.”
Sentinel’s Oath looked like a great skill in times of danger.
“I have the Headmaster title, so the System somehow recognizes the Rosebud Fencing Academy as an organization. It might work, but you should pledge allegiance to Elincia to protect the whole orphanage,” I said.
Technically speaking, only my class and I belonged to the Rosebud Academy. And I wasn’t sure about that either. A couple of days ago, I told the kids that was the last lesson so the System might consider them graduates.
“We can try it now if you can undo the Oath,” I said.
It was worth the shot.
“There shouldn’t be a penalty if both parties agree to break it up,” Zaon replied.
“Let’s do it, then.”
Zaon nodded and closed his eyes. A silver aura appeared around his shoulders, forming a cloak, pauldrons, and helmet. The armor shimmered and vibrated, casting a silvery, almost phantasmagorical light on the corridor. Zaon opened and closed his hands, tasting the aura's feel.
“I pledge this oath of protection upon the Rosebud Fencing Academy. I vow to defend the blood and honor of their members from man and monster alike. Upon my watch, no malice will touch them. I shall remain true to my word. Vigilant upon my watch. Steadfast in my service. Until the end.”
The words flowed like a river, with no stutter or hesitation.
“I, the Headmaster of the Rosebud Fencing Academy, accept your oath, Zaon,” I replied, and the silver aura dissolved into a fine mist.
A System Prompt popped before my eyes.
Sentinel’s Oath activated.
I opened my Character Sheet, and in the Status section, there it was. [Sentinel’s Oath]. Now, Zaon had access to my GPS location 24/7. I wondered what the limitations of the skill were, considering the kid was barely a Lv.1 Sentinel. Was my consent enough for Zaon to know the location of every member of the Fencing Academy?
“The Oath is active on my Character Sheet. Are the others part of the Oath?” I said.
Zaon closed his eyes and focused, wrinkling his face. Then, after an instant, his eyes shot open.
“Miss Elincia is in danger.”
Comments
Kalmars
who hung the cliffhanger, find out in the next chapter
Mohamed
Thanks for the chapter
Emmanuel Dixon
Cliffhanger hanging from a cliff and that's why he's called cliffhanger
