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An Otherworldly Scholar - 118
🕑 Added 2024-04-17 02:46:32 +0000 UTCThe master of ceremonies glanced at the paper in his hand, and a glimpse of confusion showed on his face.
Something was wrong.
“And the third and last team representing Farcrest. Lowell’s Orphanage!”
Elincia clung to my arm, fear and impotence reflected in her expression. We were supposed to be called Rosebud Fencing Academy during the tournament. I clenched my jaw and glanced across the pavilion, giving [Awareness] free rein. Lord Osgiria gave me a mocking look.
I cursed. Among the nobility, everything was appearances. The fact that Farcrest had to resort to a poor orphanage for representation spoke badly about the state of affairs in the territory. The nobles around us exchanged funny looks.
“Keep your heads up. That’s our call,” I said, loud enough for the whole pavilion to hear us. If nobles thought this would weigh upon our shoulders, they were wrong.
Ilya took position by my right as the team captain, and we entered the crescent-shaped arena. The cheering died. Our magnificent uniforms didn’t fool the crowd anymore. I reached the Marquis's side and saluted the VIP box. Only after Prince Adrien started applauding did the rest of the nobles acknowledge our presence.
The commoners in the stands hesitated to cheer for us. This wasn’t a gentle world. They didn’t care about the kid’s feelings. I glanced over my shoulder. Wolf was unfazed, and Zaon moved his lips, repeating, ‘Nervous is good’ repeatedly. Firana, on the other hand, was furious.
“Tough crowd, uh?” I muttered.
“It’s only expected. Orphans don’t get good classes. There is no reason to cheer for us,” Ilya replied with a grin. “Yet.”
Did she look so mature back at the carriage?
The crowd’s attention lingered on us for an instant before the next team entered the arena. To my surprise, a single team represented the royal family: a group of cadets from the Imperial Academy. Five young cadets dressed in plain black, guided by Holst, entered the arena. The crowd came back to life. Considering the opulence of the other teams, the uniforms of the Imperial Academy cadets were disappointing. Even my group was better suited to the occasion.
Holst stood by my left, saluting the stands with a dull gesture.
“Robert Clarke, good to see you still among the living,” he greeted me with a bored tone.
His words, however, sent a shiver down my spine. Did he know assassins had tried to kill me a few days before? Captain Kiln had sworn to keep it a secret. The coincidences piled up. Holst knew about the attack and asked Lyra Jorn’s help with the library when Luzian Abei had a small army of Scholars and Scribes at his disposal. I couldn’t help but think Holst was still in contact with the culprit.
“Preceptor Holst,” I coldly greeted, my brain too busy to formulate a more wordy sentence.
“I didn’t expect to meet my former students,” he added, looking past me at Ilya and the kids. “Certainly not in these circumstances.”
I swallowed my anger. This was a golden opportunity for the orphanage. Watching the skill of the imperial cadets could help me understand why Sir Janus had been the only commoner in Farcrest to assist the Imperial Academy. Even if we lost the tournament, we could improve our chances of getting them accepted into the Imperial Academy, putting them in the same echelon as nobles.
“Do you trust the ability of your current students to win the tournament?” I asked, examining the cadet’s faces. Three humans, a half-elf, and a harpy. They didn’t seem thrilled to be part of the tournament.
Holst laughed.
“These idiots aren’t my students. These five failed their first year. If they don’t win the tournament, they will be kicked out of the Academy,” he replied, shrugging. “For failures like them, I’d say they are the favorites to win the tournament.”
A glance at the Imperial Academy team revealed their strong shoulders and steady feet. Despite the lack of fashion, they looked like trained warriors instead of pampered noble kids. Their faces had lost the roundness of childhood, and their calm demeanor and sharp eyes revealed an intense training regime. I hoped not to bump into them until the later rounds of the tournament.
Our conversation was cut short because the Osgirian teams entered the arena. First, Lord Osgiria, then Lord Nara, and finally, a man dressed as a knight, followed by a group of kids in mismatched uniforms—each one with the colors of their respective houses. Lord Osgiria stood by Holst's side and greeted the VIP box.
If Captain Kiln were right, our team would fight Lord Nara in the first round. I expected the man to be a merchant with a comically large belly. Instead, he looked like a cunning gray fox. I had to remind myself that buying a way into nobility required a skillful negotiator.
“Three teams, Lord Osgiria? You don’t seem too confident in your chances,” Holst casually said.
The Imperial Academy had to be a powerhouse within the kingdom because Lord Osgiria swallowed any snarky remark.
Lord Herran, a tall and muscular redhead dressed in full warrior attire, entered next. I remembered him from the feast—boisterous, talkative, determined. The black mana-repelling axe hung from his belt, causing my stomach to feel sick if I looked for too long. House Herran only had two teams, one led by Lord Herran himself and the other by a man who could be his twin. Only half of the team members were human; the other half were different flavors of beast folk.
More than half of the kids had bright red hair like their lord. I wondered if red hair was a dominant gene in the Herran Dukedom because the kids looked healthy. There was not a trace of the infamous Habsburg chin. They were tall and robust like their lord.
I tried to glance at the axe’s runes, but Lord Herran was too far away.
“That’s lord Herran and his army of copperhead bastards,” Holst pointed out, laughing at his joke.
I doubted that having a dozen children the same age was normal, even more so for a noble, considering how difficult succession could be. Lord Herran must’ve loved to spread his genes.
“It’s okay for him to present his… illegitimate kids in an official event like this?” I asked.
“Do you like gossip, Robert Clarke?” Holst raised an eyebrow.
“I like to be informed,” I replied.
Holst seemed satisfied with my answer.
“Lord Herran is one of the few Combat Prestige Classes in the kingdom. He has the [Conqueror] Class,” Holst replied. “It’s only natural that he can do whatever he wants. Not even the king has enough power over Lord Herran to stop his… reproductive impulses.”
I nodded. The relationship between the royal house and the great three dukedoms was more complex than I initially thought. According to the stories, Combat Prestige Classes were, in essence, one-man armies that could create whole countries around their power. I wondered what kind of monsters the royal army found in the Deep Farlands to be obliged to retreat.
After Lord Herra, Lord Gairon entered the arena. The Gairon House was arguably the second most powerful family after the royal house, and their uniforms reflected their status. The blue was rich and deep, and the gold shone under the winter sun, seemingly casting the few clouds away. The crowd yelled and cheered. It wasn’t surprising. Lord Gairon was a tall, tanned man with hair the color of ripe wheat—the perfect poster boy and leader of the anti-war faction.
“He has to go down if we want the royal faction to have a chance,” Holst said.
It suddenly hit me. Holst and I technically supported the same faction.
“Lord Gairon is also a Prestige Class?” I asked.
“A [Sacred Knight], yes. Rumor says he reached the mythic level sixty,” Holst replied. “Let’s hope their teams are more… farming inclined.”
The crowd became more tame after the three big houses made their entrance. Lord Vedras received less than half of House Gairon’s support, probably because of the tax disputes between Farcrest and the Vedras dukedom. He had brought three teams.
Duke Jorn’s presence almost caused the arena to become completely silent—Holst told me he was also a high-level Prestige Class, a Shadow Stalker.
“That sounds dangerous,” I pointed out.
“Sellen Jorn is one of the most dangerous men in the kingdom. His mere existence was enough for the king to create a whole new duchy,” Holst said. “Take an Assassin and a Shadow Fencer, mix them, double their powers, and then double them again. That’s a Shadow Stalker in a nutshell.”
I tried to imagine it. The Assassin who attacked the orphanage would have had a hard time with any class without a skill like my mana blades. I had been lucky to have a favorable matchup against him; otherwise, I might have been dead. His capacity to disable my movement was scarily effective. A man with the skills of an Assassin and a Shadow Fencer had dangerous implications.
“Prince Adrien wanted Sellen Jorn as his Master of Assassins, but he didn’t want to leave his people in the north,” Holst said. “Walls, doors, bars, locks, nothing can stop a Shadow Stalker. Only the woven barrier of several high-level Fortifiers can stop him. Or so it’s said.”
Gears turned inside my skull. I wondered if Duke Jorn was involved in the disappearance of the evidence of Raudhan’s poisoning. He certainly had the skill to move unnoticed through the Great Hall. Stealing a box with shards of glass would be a walk in the park for him.
The rest of the teams passed in a blur as my mind reviewed the party's events. Sellen Jorn was undoubtedly suspicious. His lack of presence was as unnerving as it was useful for an infiltration mission. Could he be involved in Raudhan’s poisoning? Lord Vedras had denied the existence of any co-conspirators, and we were almost entirely sure that Raudhan hadn’t been poisoned by Ashroot.
Duke Jorn's political positioning was hard to determine. The northern dukedoms were poor, and just like Farcrest, they served as a bulwark against the Monster Surges. Four families controlled most of the kingdom’s economy and politics. House Gairon, House Herran, House Osgiria, and the Royal Family. The northern dukedoms didn’t benefit from the current trade routes and wouldn’t directly benefit from a new trade route into the Kingdom of Tagabiria.
However, they would benefit from a closer relationship with the royal family.
Duke Jorn had no reason to poison Captain Kiln.
Ilya tugged the sleeve of my jacket, bringing me back to the present. The master of ceremonies was finishing a long speech about the legacy of Stephaniss of Farcrest, the previous lord of the city and the Marquis's grandfather. Even the Marquis seemed bored.
“Prince Adrien will draw the matches for the first round!” The master of ceremonies announced.
Prince Adrien came forward, and an assistant brought a glass bowl filled with small wooden rods. He put his hand in the bowl, picked one randomly, and passed it to his companion. The woman dressed in purple read it out loud, her voice magically amplified. Her pleasant contralto voice made me think she was a singer.
“House Nara versus…” she received the second wooden rod. “Lowell’s Orphanage!”
Just like Captain Kiln had warned me.
I didn’t expect us to be the opening fight. The other teams returned to the pavilion, and a group of Scribes carried the System Shrine Shard embedded in its copper nest to the center of the arena. I assumed it was there to ensure all participants met the requirements for the tournament.
“Let’s go, team,” I said.
We formed next to the Shrine Shard and in front of Lord Nara’s team. The master of ceremonies activated the blue orb, and the kids' names, classes, and levels appeared before us. Luckily, Lord Nara and I were exempt from the crystal ability. Being outed as a Runeweaver wasn’t part of my plans.
Belya Nara, Geomancer Lv.3
Arel Nara, Warrior Lv.5
Lino, Soldier Lv.9
Jan, Archer Lv.3
Aiwin, Courier Lv.7
Firana Aias, Wind Fencer Lv.1
Ilya, Hunter Lv.2
Zaon, Classless Lv.1
Wolf, Classless Lv.1
The System prompts might have been big enough for the crowd to read because a murmur rose from the stands. I didn’t need [Awareness] to understand the commotion. Half of my team was classless in a world where Classes were everything. Lord Nara also seemed to notice the discrepancy between our teams.
“I’m feeling generous today, Mister Caretaker. I will gladly accept your surrender and spare you the embarrassment if you apologize for wasting our time,” Lord Nara said with a mellow, totally fake voice. “You can save the kids the shame of losing in front of their countrymen.”
The master of ceremonies looked at me.
“What do you think, Ilya?” I asked.
“The team is ready, Mister Clarke. We fight,” she replied without any hint of doubt.
Despite Lord Nara’s clever expression, he was underestimating us. I couldn’t blame him. He had lived all his life in a world where value was determined by class and level. Developing an eye for people wasn’t as helpful as on Earth, where it could mean the difference between life and death.
“We fight,” I said.
“Don’t say I didn’t extend the courtesy of an honorable withdrawal,” Lord Nara grinned, his fox-like eyes turned into thin lines.
The master of ceremonies nodded.
“The Rules are simple. The team that loses the coin toss has to choose its first fighter, and then the winning team chooses its opponent. Then, the roles change. Every team has two picks and two counter picks, for a total of four fighters,” the master of ceremonies explained, pulling a gold coin from the pocket.
I nodded. There was a level of strategy involved in the pairing phase. I could pair Firana against their weakest member to ensure a vast point difference. Or I could choose Zaon to keep things equalized. If I were Lord Nara, I would leave the Lv.7 Courier outside the selection. As fast as they were, they weren’t a combatant Class, but on the other hand, even non-combatants could develop useful masteries.
Zaon had a good matchup against the Soldier and the Warrior, as their combat skills were on the ‘basic’ side of the spectrum. However, the Archer, the Geomancer, and the Courier could present a problem to him. Wolf also had a bad matchup against the Archer and the Geomancer because he relied on solid and static positioning to use his muscles. Ilya and Firana had good matchups against the enemy team, but the enemy Geomancer worried me the most. She wasn’t just an Advanced Class, but a relative of Lord Nara.
“Here goes the coin,” the master of ceremonies said. He threw it high and caught it mid-flight.
Lord Nara kindly offered me the call.
“Heads,” I replied with a grin.
“Heads,” the master of ceremonies said, revealing the coin.
[Awareness] didn’t disappoint, but I made a mental note to keep it hidden from Ilya. She wouldn’t be on board with blatant cheating, even if we had the disadvantage. As cunning as Ilya was, strategy and cheats were completely different.
Lord Nara huffed. “Lino, you go first.”
The Soldier kid stepped forward. He was tall, probably a year older than my kids, but [Awareness] told me he was nervous. Soldier Class was painfully close to no class at all.
“Zaon, you go first. Is that okay with you?” I said, hoping the combination of Light-Footed and Lv.2 Longsword Mastery would match a Lv.9 Soldier with a couple of skills under his sleeve.
Zaon nodded.
It was my turn to choose and Lord Nara’s turn to counter-pick. “Ilya, you go second,” I said.
Ilya came forward, prompting a laugh from the rival Fighter.
“Do you want to fight the gnome, Arel?” Lord Nara asked.
“Yes, my lord. I’m confident I can get a ten-point lead over a Gnome Hunter,” Arel Nara replied.
A vein popped on Ilya’s forehead.
“Good. I chose my cousin Arel Nara for the second fight,” Lord Nara said.
Then, Lord Nara selected the Archer boy for the third fight, which put me in a tough spot. The Archer and the Geomancer were hard matchups for Wolf, and I lacked a fifth or sixth member to play around it. Nonetheless, the Archers weren’t known for their vast arsenal of skills.
“Wolf, you go against him,” I said.
Wolf nodded.
“Which leaves us with the last pair,” Lord Nara said with a mocking smile.
“Firana, you go last,” I said.
“Belya, my daughter, will be my last pick,” Lord Nara replied.
The dueling pairs were ready.
“So be it. The tournament's first match will be between Lino the Soldier and Zaon the Elf,” the master of ceremonies said, his voice suddenly amplified again as the Scribes took the System Shrine orb away. “Contestants, please go get your equipment. May the System bless you all.”
Comments
Elra
roger roger
oreganoe
So excited to see the tournament get underway! Can't wait!
David Ellis
This sentence reads weird: "The Assassin who attacked the orphanage would have had a hard time with any class without a skill like my mana blades." It's saying that the assassin would have problems with any class that doesn't have his mana blade? That sounds like the opposite of what was intended.
