elra
patreon
An Otherworldly Scholar - 56
🕑 Added 2023-09-22 22:37:31 +0000 UTCGinz locked the door of the workshop and hung a ‘closed’ sign. Despite being barely past noon, Farcrest was practically deserted. Other than guards patrolling the main streets, we barely saw a soul. An eerie silence hung over the city, as if thousands of people were holding their breaths at the same time.
There was also a second silence. The one between Ginz and me. Even after emptying a whole bottle of wine, the atmosphere between us was still awkward and the road towards the orphanage was a long one.
As usual, my mind wandered towards Elincia.
“Are you married, Ginz?” I asked.
The craftsmen glanced at me as if I was making fun of him.
“I’m a low-level Craftsman, Robert. The only women I could impress with that are Farmers or Menders.” Ginz sighed, realizing I wasn’t messing with him. “Most Farmers left Farcrest due to the Marquis’ policies. Oh, and the ones who stayed are mostly married older dudes.”
I smiled. His rant was something I could hear on Earth too.
Elincia had told me about the land grants the Marquis had been giving during the past years. Most of the orphans who had left the orphanage had turned into Farmers and migrated to nearby villages. But that was half of the story. It was all a ploy of the Marquis to buy the crops and raw materials with royal money. Then he sold manufactured products back to the villages, creating the perfect tax evasion scheme.
“You have a workshop, though. That has to count as something.” I pointed out, trying to cheer him up.
“I rent a small, dusty workshop with three other low-level craftsmen. I don’t even have my own house. I share the bedroom on the second floor with one of them. He snores.” Ginz corrected me. “But it’s not all bad. You have to grind if you want to progress.”
I nodded in silence.
“To be honest, I don’t have time for romance. There are lots of things I want to build, but I have to grind my skills first.” Ginz shrugged his shoulders. “When Mr. Lowell was alive, there was a man, a Scholar who usually visited us. He had this notebook full of crazy concepts for machines and contraptions, like automated machines to toast bread without burning it, and one hand fire starters. Oh, and there was this steam propelled carts that went on metal rails.”
Ginz’s words caught me by surprise. Those contraptions sounded strangely familiar. In fact, I had been inside these so-called ‘steam propelled carts that went on metal rails’.
“What was the name? Loco-something?”
“A locomotive?”
“Yes! That was the name!” Ginz’s eyes shot wide open. “Did you meet Mr. Byrne?”
There it was again. Mr. Byrne. First Dassyra and now Ginz. I wondered what other mark the man had left in this world.
“Did you meet him? Why do you know his designs?” Ginz asked.
“I met him once, a few years ago, but never got to talk to him. I’m familiar with some of his designs, though.” I cautiously said.
“His designs were crazy! Of course, he only taught us basic stuff, but sometimes he went off on tangents and spoke about all kinds of strange contraptions. This one time he talked during an entire class about flying machines that didn’t need a magic core to fly.” Ginz said with an excited tone. “Oh! And this other time, Elincia and I snuck into Mr. Byrne’s bedroom to take a peek into his personal notebook. I can't remember the schematics because I was dead scared, but there were a lot of crazy looking machines.”
To say that Ginz was passionate about his class was an understatement.
I was tempted to blow his mind with my own share of modern inventions but a stinging pain in the back of my mind made me drift away from our conversation. I recognized the sensation. [Awareness] trying to tell me something. The pain intensified to the point I had to turn around towards the direction [Awareness] tugged me.
At the corner of the street, a group of three men cast furtive glances towards the orphanage. Even if they dressed as regular laborers, they stood like soldiers. It was even easier than recognizing an undercover cop at a political rally.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins.
Before the group realized I was spying on them, I turned around and focused on the street ahead. The next Tax Season was still months away. Was the Marquis going to make an early move against the orphanage? I clicked my tongue and took a quick peek at my character sheet. Most of my skills were unusable and my capacity to move mana was greatly diminished.
“The orphanage isn’t looking that great. Where did the fence go and why is the gate busted?” Ginz pointed out as we reached the iron gate.
When I turned around, the suspicious men were already gone.
“Things are getting better.” I replied.
Instead of walking around the manor, I knocked on the door. Without [Awareness] available, I wanted Elincia to put her tracking skills to work just in case they were still there, hiding. I knocked again, harder this time.
“Eli? I need you out here!” I yelled, hoping Elincia’s elven ears picked my call wherever she was.
Elincia slammed the door open. Her worried eyes fell on me just to jump towards Ginz. Then, her worried expression changed.
“Orcbud! So long no–”
Ginz opened his mouth but didn't get to finish his sentence.
Elincia’s punch came before I could intervene. It was as fast as lighting, arm perfectly aligned, putting the whole weight of her body behind her fist. One of the most beautifully executed punches I have seen. Sports magazine cover worthy.
I cringed.
Elincia sunk her fist into Ginz’s face, making him stumble down the steps and fall on his ass over the hard cobbled path. Ginz clutched his face with both hands as he whined like a beaten dog. Considering the sound his nose had made, something was probably broken.
“How dare you show your face at the orphanage!” Elincia bellowed.
The elven woman towered over the poor craftsman as she cooked a second punch.
I rushed to grab Elincia by the armpits before she could start beating Ginz to a pulp. The woman struggled and I had to drag her back before she could start kicking.
I might have misinterpreted Elincia’s policy regarding old acquaintances. The way she had recommended Ginz as a reliable craftsman had misled me into believing they were on not-so-hostile terms.
It was my fault; I had underestimated how deep Elincia’s grudge went.
“What the hell, Orcbud?!” Ginz muttered from the floor as he grabbed his nose. Bright red blood had started to flow in between his fingers.
Elincia hated her surname because of that nickname. Hearing ‘Orcbud’ again, Elincia fought my grab with the energy of a wild cat. For a moment, I was tempted to let her maul the flimsy craftsman. But we needed him. The orphanage needed all the allies it could get.
I remembered my abuelita’s advice for the first day of elementary school. If they hit you, you hit them back. Then you throw them to the floor and kick them until your shoes shine. You’ll see they’ll never harass you again. May the gods welcome the old hag in all her glory.
However, now was not the time to kick.
I adopted my best angry teacher’s voice.
“Elincia Rosebud! In this orphanage we do not approve the use of violence. You are grounded from this moment on.” I said, channeling all my teaching-related titles.
My words seemed to hit Elincia like a whip because her body stiffened in my arms. When I let her go, she didn’t pounce over Ginz. Instead, she looked at me and opened her mouth but before she could say anything, I interrupted her.
“You are grounded. Go to your room, miss.” I said.
Elincia gave me a defiant look but, against all odds, she turned around and stomped her way across the reception room. I wasn’t really sure what had happened. But it had worked.
I crouched by Ginz’s side.
“You know you deserved that, don’t you? She doesn’t like being called Orcbud.” I said.
“But everyone called her that back in the day!” Ginz replied with a nasal voice.
“And how many of them got the ‘Elincia Special’ in the face?” I raised both my eyebrows.
How could someone be so dense?
“Oh.” Ginz muttered.
“Let’s get you something for your nose, bud.”
I helped Ginz to stand up and we entered the orphanage.
“Wow, this place hasn’t aged well at all.” Ginz commented as he glanced at the water-stained paint of the reception room.
It was a relief that Elincia wasn’t there. Otherwise she would polish her fists with Ginz’s face yet again. Even I was starting to feel a bit frustrated with the craftsmen’s commentary. After everything we had been through, the fact that an outsider came to speak badly about our hard work was unnerving.
“Few people care enough to help the orphanage. And the Alchemist Guild has made it difficult for non-associated Alchemists to sell their product.” I explained. “Not that Elincia has a lot of free time to gather ingredients with a dozen orphans at her care.”
Ginz raised his hands in defeat.
“Okay, I get it now. I’m sorry.”
I spied through the windows, but the suspicious men were nowhere to be found. I would have to bring that up with Elincia later. For now, I wanted to prevent Ginz from bleeding all over the floor. I brought the craftsman to my room and rummaged through my first aid kit for clean bandages.
A moment later, Ginz’s nose was clogged with cloth and the nosebleed had stopped. A quick examination revealed his nose wasn’t broken. The adrenaline of the fight had removed any remaining trace of alcohol clouding my mind.
I was more worried about the suspicious men over the roof leaks. No. What I was really worried about was about my inability to protect the orphanage. With my mana blade and mana shield I was confident I could defeat a low-level guardsmen, even a mid-level one with a little luck. Now, I wasn’t convinced I could even defeat a low-level Slime.
I bit my thumbnail. What other options did we have? Trapping the place wasn’t an option with the orphans running around. Even if we trapped it, there should be guardsmen with detection skills capable of easily disarming them.
I glanced at the flimsy craftsmen.
Desperate times require desperate solutions.
“Ginz?” I asked, pulling the last shotgun shell from my pocket. “Do you know what this is?”
The craftsmen grabbed the shell and examined it. His eyes were flooded with mana. He was using an appraisal skill. After a minute of rotating the shell to look at it from every angle, he returned it to me.
“I roughly know the structure, but I don’t know what its purpose is. I have never seen anything like this.” Ginz said.
If my memory served me correctly, shotguns dated back to the 19th century while plastic wasn’t mass produced until the second half of the 20th century. That meant I didn’t need plastic to make new shells. I squeezed my brain for any hints. Brass? I missed the way [Awareness] played back my memories like videos.
“What is it? Is it an invention of Mr. Byrne?” Ginz eyes shone. “Robert?”
“Paper!” I yelled, suddenly remembering a conversation I had with my father.
Hulls were made of paper.
I looked at Ginz.
Elincia might object to working with Ginz, but he was the only person in Farcrest who could remotely produce a shotgun shell and keep the secret to himself. I just had to use the correct leverage.
“I propose to you a deal. You help me replicate this thing, and I’ll help you replicate some of Mr. Byrne’s schematics.” I said. “I can’t offer you a precise blueprint, but I have notions of most of the machines he wanted to build.”
“Where’s the catch?” Ginz asked with a suspicious voice.
“You’ll have to keep it a secret until I say so. Nobody, and I say this very seriously, nobody must know about this.” I said with utmost gravity as I showed him the shell. “This is dangerous. It could easily kill a man and it could get us in trouble if the Marquis notices.”
The Marquis should already know about my ‘magical boomstick’ from my previous clash with the guardsmen. I wanted him to believe the shotgun was an enchanted item. The existence of a tool that allowed even a low-level Scholar to instantly kill a mid-level warrior was something that should be kept secret. I didn’t want to mess with the balance of this world more than I strictly should.
“W-would this help the orphanage?” Ginz timidly asked.
“You don’t know how much.” I replied.
“Let’s do it then.”
I didn’t need [Awareness] to know Ginz was being honest.
“Okay, buddy, let me introduce you to the amazing world of boomsticks.” I said.
* * *
A few hours and a few wax tablets later, Ginz and I had designed a prototype for a shotgun shell. It was simple, crude, and it probably wouldn’t work, but it was a start. The main problem was to find an explosive substance to propel the pellets. Ginz had a couple ideas, but nothing concrete. I probably had some vague knowledge on options, but without [Awareness] it was like fumbling around in the dark for car keys. More research was required but we were on the right path.
We also found a moment to check the leaks. The kids wanted to climb on the roof with us, but with a little help from Ilya and Wolf, we prevented any accidents. Luckily, the slippery twins were more worried about the potato farm than climbing ladders. By the time we finished, the kids were in the kitchen having dinner and the sun had almost set.
Admitting I was having fun with Ginz in front of Elincia wasn’t something I wanted to do.
“It’s crazy to see how fast they grow.” Ginz said as I walked him to the entrance.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Ilya and Zaon were five or six years old when I… uh, left the orphanage to dedicate to my class.” Ginz replied uncomfortably. “Anyway, I’ll send you one of my friends to do the repairs, he should charge you a fair price.”
Sometimes I forgot Elincia was still under Mr. Lowell’s care when Ilya and Zaon arrived at the orphanage. I did the math. Elincia was sixteen and Ilya was five when Mr. Lowell died. During a sizable period of time, they were more like sisters than governess and orphan.
I scratched my chin.
That might explain why Ilya behaved like a de facto governess.
“Goodbye Robert, see you around!” Ginz waved his hand from the iron gate.
“I’ll go visit you soon!” I replied.
When I entered the orphanage again, I found Ilya standing in the middle of the reception room with her hands on her hips, frowning. She was already in pajamas, which added to her comical appearance. A little girl with the demeanor of a seasoned governess.
“Did he leave?” Ilya asked in a grumpy tone.
“Don’t be harsh with Ginz, he’s not all that bad.” I replied.
Ilya frowned even further. Her eyebrows almost touched.
“We don’t need him. We have enough with Miss Elincia… and you.” Ilya muttered.
I hid my smile from Ilya. Being a teacher was hard, but there were a few moments that made all the sacrifices worth it. And this was one of them. I couldn’t stop smiling. If I wasn’t Corrupted, the System would probably give me 128 points of psychic damage. Only my rigorous professionalism prevented me from giving her a hug.
“Are you meditating daily?” I asked instead.
Ilya energetically nodded.
“Show me.” I said.
The gnome girl closed her eyes and conjured a small mana flame. It was barely enough to light her own face, but steady enough to show the great control she had over her mana pool. After a moment, the small flame disappeared, and Ilya opened her eyes again. I could tell how satisfied she felt performing the trick.
It was an unexpected development for Ilya to get [Mana Manipulation]. Maybe her gnome blood was a helping factor, just like Wolf’s orc blood gave him improved strength.
“What should I do now? You know, to improve?” Ilya suddenly asked.
“I don’t know.” I replied.
The gnome girl glanced at me with her mouth open in surprise.
“But you are a teacher, and a Scholar?” Ilya said in disbelief.
“Despite what some teachers want their students to believe, we don’t know everything.” I replied, hiding the fact I had gotten my own [Mana Manipulation] not so long ago myself. “Let's ask Miss Elincia, and if she doesn’t know, we can figure things out by ourselves. Does it sound good to you?”
Ilya nodded and I couldn’t help but wonder from where all that motivation had come.
“I’m super tired and I still have to make sure the younger kids get to bed.” Ilya yawned. “Goodnight, Mr. Clarke.”
“Goodnight, Ilya. Sleep tight.”
“Tight?”
“Sleep well.”
Ilya nodded once again and quickly scurried towards the sleeping quarters.
I stretched my back and marked a couple more tasks from my to-do list as completed. It had been a productive day, but there was even more work tomorrow.
My stomach grumbled and I noticed I had skipped lunch and dinner altogether. I went to the kitchen, expecting to find Elincia, but I only found Zaon and Firana washing the dishes together. Normally the adults were in charge of cleaning the kitchen after dinner so the kids could go to sleep early.
“Hey kids, have you seen Miss Elincia?” I asked.
“M-miss Elincia hasn’t appeared since lunch.” Zaon replied. “I think she might be brewing potions in her bedroom?”
Oh.
I just remembered I had grounded Elincia.
Comments
The Magician
Oh boy oh no time for a tough scene
Art
i forgor :skull:
