“I heard that the Renhart witch scored just one point lower than you Ional. Just the fact that a descendant of that family dares to access the treasury with a hero—what a humiliation to the founders of the academy.” Inoal sat in one of the empty classroom within the academy as disgusting words entered his ears from the young girls who sat next to him.
He had just about barely gotten used to the luxuries and pure changes in status, but still, the clear differences never ceased to amaze him. The classroom was built off of a newer architecture on the schools newest floor. Built within the last two years to introduce a new form of material traded with the eastern country of Rek’sai. Azimanthium. It was highly magically conductive and mouldable, meaning it could not only hold powerful spells and mana without cracking, but also was capable of being made into anything, from the plaster on walls to powerful weapons. It was also clear and highly miscible when liquidiified, so it could be mixed with other substances to create items of varying colours and materials. Up to eighty percent of the hundredth floor of the academy was made of just this material alone.
It was pretty transparent where Ional sat just why the material was so expensive and highly coveted.
Cylindrical white chairs floated gently in the air as flat translucent tables separated rows of seats from one another. The further back you went, the higher the chairs floated. Blue glyphs glowed softly on each desk and chair with the familiar patterns of wind magic. The walls were light blue and also had similar patterns engraved on them to cancel out all sound. The teacher's podium glowed a bright red and had the same pattern as the walls at its forefront but without a cross present to magnify sound.
Blue lights lit up the entirety of the room as crystalline lights hung gently from the deepening ceiling that resembled stairs escalating to its centre like a dome. It felt as if Ional had stepped into some alien world every time he attended a lecture on the floor.
He looked at the gossiping girl next to him who sat plainly on the lowest of the floating chairs at the front row. Her blue hair that resembled the ocean's depths seemed to lack any of its tranquillity as an arrogant smirk lifted itself across her face as she spoke.
Her name was Metri, and Ional found her company mostly displeasing. Neither her twin sister nor that mumbling playboy Tilok attended this class, so she would use the time to strike conversation with Ional, knowing he would be thirty minutes early for every class. At least Apenti and Tilok were not so thick skinned as to completely ignore how they had treated him before. This girl however was different. It was as if she could never be wrong when she spoke. It seemed to almost enter the realm of fooling herself into believing she was right.
“Heeeey, are you listening dummy. Why do I even bother? You know you can at least pretend that I exist?” Metri pouted as she folded her arms and slouched back against the cylindrical chair. Like a translucent curtain, a gush of light air kept her back from leaning off the chair, stopping her from falling off about three feet.
“I only listen to words with some semblance of meaning. You know as well as I do her capabilities. She earned it.” Ional didn't even glance at her as he spoke, his eyes glued to the textbook at his desk. The Art of War. He no longer spoke with his old dialect, his manner of speaking closely resembling that of nobles now. A testament to his hard work over the last two years.
“Hmph, a Renhart can never be fair. God knows maybe her dad rigged the exam or she doped up her stats with an item or something.”
Ional raised an eyebrow at her words.
“Haaa, I've mentioned this a hundred times now but weren't you guys talking to her at the entrance ceremony?”
“We obviously didn't know she was a Renhart!! Stop bring that up!.” Metri shouted, her temper rising.
Obviously she was in the right about that too Ional thought. She always thought she was right. Ional knew she had probably talked in a similar fashion about him before his status was unlocked as well. He knew they all did. But he hadn't cared. like a siren's wail, that's all it used to be to him–noise. So over the last two years, the sudden change in attitude's was possibly the most difficult thing he had found to cope with.
All of a sudden the noise had grown faces and approached him.
He wouldn't look away. It wasn't because he didn't think to look away, no, he would meet those gazes headfirst because that's what he was. What he was trying to become. A hero.
Before he knew it, people that used to spite him started approaching him. Some out of greedy intentions and some from purer motivations. He didn't push any of them away.
“Were the Renharts not loyalty not too long ago?” Ional asked as he closed his textbook. He already knew the answer. What the old king did to garner such hate, but still, to hate on his descendants to such a degree was unfathomable to Ional. Hate in general was unfathomable to him. People were far too brittle for Ional to hate. There was no need to feel animosity at a cracked vase when it suddenly broke.
Metry leaned in against the table and glanced sideways at Ional, looking him dead in his eyes. Her blue crystalline eyes searching him, searching him for answers he knew she would never find, they viewed the world too differently
“They were the cause of millions of lives enslaved, millions more lost in the uprising. They were never loyalty, they were parasites, and now they brought in their useless daughter to leech off the school too.” her eyes never wavered in the slightest as words of hatred and venom spewed out from her small mouth. She should barely be twelve this year. Ional sighed deeply as more students began to make their way into the class, noise drowning out the sound of his exasperation. Class would be starting soon.
“The old king has nothing to do with Tene, or her father for that matter. In the first place, you should be directing your energy towards improving yourself instead of lashing out at other people.” Ional berated, his tone wasn’t harsh, but guiding and reprimanding. He was never angry at people, he was at worst disappointed.
“ughhh, quit parroting my sister. She talks sweet words of nothing just to go around and ignore that witch as well. Hypocrite.” Metri spat, she then looked softly into Ionals eyes. “Ional, I know deep down you feel the same way. Don't you have someone in you family that suffered because of the Renharts?” Metri responded, she seemed to think Ionals passive tone meant he hadn’t completely sided with Tene either .
She seemed to have somehow fooled herself into thinking Ional wasn't a beggar before his sudden rise in status. It was how her mind work. She made things as convenient for herself as possible. She wanted to get close to Ional, yet she couldn't fathom the idea of befriending a prior beggar.
Soon noise filled the classroom as familiar faces began sitting on their assigned seats. From nobles to the few commoners with aspirations of leading an army or joining the kings guard, the Strategic warfare class was packed with only those who were prepared for military battle in the future. Few scholars or mages attended the class and only those who wanted a shortcut up the ranks by achieving a high grade attended. Ional was a hero, he obviously would have had to attend the class regardless of his decisions. Thankfully, war was already a necessary step in his goals regardless.
“Quieten up! Time for class.”
Stepping onto the sliding pedestal resigned for the teachers entrance at the back of the room, an extremely rugged, brawny man made his way towards the front podium. His back as straight as a rod, he had an intimidating aura as his voice boomed loudly within the class with no need for any sound amplification. A large scar adorned his chiselled face, scarring it from the top of his brown eye, down to his pointed chin.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As soon as he spoke, the class quietened. Even Metri went completely silent and brought her complete focus to the front.
“Good…Where's Renhart?” the man asked as he glanced at the empty chair beside Ional. His tone sounded displeased, like he had just gotten his lunch snatched directly from his grasp.
“Selecting an Item with the principal.” A girl merrily said. She had light blonde hair and blue eyes. Tene’s only friend within the class, Iris.
“Tsk. She couldn't wait till after my class!" The man's tone became dangerously low towards the end. He then began setting up the paperwork and flame board for his lecture, a scowl now present on his face.
Ional laughed internally, ever since Tene had made a fool of him during the first day, the professor–Qualm had had it out for her. What was funny to Ional was how he failed miserably each time he tried something. He was somewhat interested to see what she would do to counter what he had lined up for her next. There were students in the class who enjoyed the class just for the acts they would carry out against each other.
At first Ional had been shocked at how such a narrow minded man had been handed a position within the school in the first place. The first memory Ional having of him being when he glanced displeasingly at him for his prior status as a beggar. The man was a believer that nobles were of a different race altogether after all.
Still. He truly is a step above many other lecturers…
Today's lesson was based on the stratagem of the elven troops in warfare. The fire board ignited into different shapes as detailed diagrams of elves firing spells and enchanted arrows from the safety of trees transformed to diagrams of elves terraforming terrain to confuse and sometimes even kill enemy soldiers. Qualm perfectly explained points regarding countering such methods of warfare as well as methods to use those forms of Warfare directly against the elves. Even Metri beside him, who had low grades in every other class, had a look of understanding on her face.
If only he would stop calling them woodrats…
“So based on what you’ve all seen so far. What do you do if a wood rat has gained control of an encampment of wood territory and your mission is to capture it. You have limited scouting capabilities but you have access to fire magic? You can assume your enemies do not know you are coming, so you have the possibility of a sneak attack.” Qualm asked, his tone was very obvious that the inability of anyone to answer the question would result in a long night for the entirety of the class.
Instantly multiple hands, including Ionals, shot up into the air. Ignoring Ional as usual, Qualm selected a noble boy at the back of the class. He rarely selected anyone in the front half of the class, the commoners.
“A night stealth attack when they are sleeping. With limited rangers or scouts, we should use the few available to eliminate as many earth mages in their sleep as possible so terraform magic cannot be used. Then, ignite the central tree to put their network in chaos with fire magic. Surround them and take the encampment.” The boy responded with that accent nobles who came from the capital had. An accent that reeked of entitlement. He had an arrogant look on his face as he answered, as if what he had just said was the perfect answer.
“Brilliant, it seems you were listening. You saved the class again Rilo. Only thing I would add is to ignite their weaponry house as well if possible. A wood rat without their bows or magic is completely useless. Try to keep as many as war slaves as you can—An enslaved woodrat is far more useful than a dead one” Qualm added loudly.
“Wasn’t slavery and the devices linked to it abolished?” Rilo asked curiously. His eyes opened as if an entire new stratagem had just opened up to him.
“Yes and no. Slavery is disallowed for the countries aligned with our kingdom. Especially during war, loopholes exist in order to further the kingdom's goals.” Qualm quickly responded, his eyes looking at the boy with clear hidden intent. Ional was sure he truly wanted to say that as long as you were not human, it was completely acceptable.
It was one of the things Ional wanted to change. Although Ional knew it was wrong, he couldn’t fault the logic. Many of the other races would do the same with humans captured in war. The old demon race from long ago, did absolutely despicable things to their slaves. Still, it didn’t mean they had to fall to their level.
“Wood rats are at be—“
“You mean elves.” A familiar voice came from the entrance of the class as the girl that Qualm had been waiting for arrived at the front entrance, he seemed to have failed to notice the automatic opening of the large blue doors. Removing her purple hood, Raven black hair fell to her shoulders messily as iridescent golden eyes like golden dust pierced through Qualms smug expression at the podium with a gaze that felt far older than her still developing body would entail.
She took measured, carefree steps towards her seat as Qualms' expression quickly darkened. Getting in the seat next to me, it slowly rose three feet up towards our level when she sat on it. She gave me a slight nod as she completely ignored Qualm as he demanded her to come to the podium for disrupting him. Ional couldn’t help but find her unflinching form as she took out her notepad—somewhat mesmerising. Her gaze so different to the shallow, weak gazes of others. It held a strong purpose. Perhaps stronger than his.
“Disruptive parasyte.” Metri whispered something under her breath as an ugly expression flashed across her face. She had never liked Tene to begin with. Their were other varying expressions on the students' faces as she appeared. Some looked at her with amusement, some with jealousy. There were a small minority like Ional who looked at her with respect.
“You think the principal or your vile father can protect you from completely disrespecting a teacher!!”Qualm shouted, veins bulging on his forehead as he clenched the flame board remote tightly in his grasp. Nearly crushing it.
“Is this not a class on war? Debates on stratagem are commonplace in such classes—really, a teacher who uses derogatory terms like an illiterate in the first place, should naturally be corrected. Calling a book a table is hardly a good example to teach students.” Tene snapped back, her gaze piercing Qualms like a swords. It held—contempt.
Qualms face seemed to turn the brightest shade of red Ional had ever seen it turn as some students began trying to hold their laughter. Qualm was a man who lived off the respect of others, gained or forced. This was the first time anyone had humiliated him to such a degree in the class. The first time he had been humiliated within his space of power.
Soft whispers filled the class as his grip on the class began to slip.
Huh? Ional found his lips curving up into something that resembled a smirk. He quickly relaxed his expression. Although Ional felt that Qualm deserved Tenes harsh rebuttal, a student speaking to a teacher as she did was still not the answer. Her usual rebuttals were not as direct and confrontational, but witty and in response to attacks on her own character.
“Listen here, spawn of the devil! I see now that whatever little kindness you could have gained from your mother never existed to begin with! To not know your place is the highest mistake one can make in an autocracy! If not for the principal and her naïve ways, you would have already been put in your place brat!” Qualm seemed to vent out his anger as he shouted, nearly losing himself as he hurled insults of all kinds at the young girl.
What a disgrace of a teacher… Ional felt that although he was a brilliant teacher in certain aspects, he failed far too miserably in others. Honestly, with the amount of talent in the kingdom, Ional wondered why Qualm of all people had been picked for the position. The only answer he could think of was– nobles abusing their power again. His though process and political leanings did align well with a lot of the nobles after all.
As Qualm continued berating Tene, nearly everything he said seemed to bounce weakly of the girls thick skin–exempt one.
“Take that back.” A chilling yet heavily dark aura crept up Ionals spine, no, every single person within the room held their breath as what felt like a dagger seemed to gently press itself against their hearts. Qualm stepped back hesitantly in fear as he almost fell on his butt at the podium. Students that had once been laughing quietened up and even Metri who had looked at Tene in plain sight with contempt, paled as she averted her gaze.
In the six months Ional had attended this class, this was the first time he or anyone else in the room had seen such a terrible killing intent emanate from Tene. For Ional, it was the first time he had ever felt anything like it in his life. Sweat pooled at his hands and his brow began to quiver slightly.
Of course, Ional could only imagine how concentrated the aura must have felt on Qualm. Ional watched as the teachers legs began to visibly shake and his once boisterous attitude and enraged face paled and shifted to be as meek as a mouse.
“Take back what you just said of my mother. Now.” Tene spoke quietly yet harshly, her tone rising in soft anger. It was the first time Ional had seen her truly lose her temper. It was well known that she was strong, after all, she had gotten top of the class in the monster subjugation exam, as well as the swords mastery examination. Still, her raw status or stats had never been leaked.
Tight. Uncomfortable. Overwhelming. That was the only way to describe how it felt to be in her presence, as if she could easily crush every single person within the room. Like they were nothing but ants in her presence. For the first time in Ionals life– he felt fear as he clenched his hands into fists. He braved a look in her direction and saw–an insurmountable wall.
Just how strong…
“Enough child.” Soon a new presence filled the room as a warm light enveloped everyone in their seats, killing whatever dread had once been building in their hearts. A wave of butterflies fluttered across the room in a haze of spectral colours, dissipating into lights of vibrant shades or red, purple and yellow. a woman of unimaginable beauty stood at the podium beside the still shaking Qualm in place of the butterflies. The principal of the academy and one of the four sages, Al Deniv Atros.
With vibrant orange hair similar to that of the setting sun, her aquamarine eyes and youthful appearance made her seem like a fairy that stepped out from a children's tale. her topaz dress seemed to accentuate the Light freckles that were sprayed lightly across her cheeks and nose, making her appear even more youthful.
“I said enough.” Her bell like voice was admonishing yet light like a feather, making it difficult to accentuate its meaning. Yet it looked like it had accomplished its task.
“Tsk.” Averting her gaze from the principal, Tenes aura seemed to completely disperse, and Qualm, still somewhat shaken, seemed to slowly gather himself as he realised just how dumb he had probably looked to the surrounding students. Nobody in particular could blame him though, that was how frightening Tenes aura had been.
Still, for her aura to still effect one of the stronger teachers in the academy as it did? Just how strong is she really? It looked like the principal was already aware of her strength as well. Ional had always thought that he was doing good for his year group in terms of strength.
He was still far too weak, he just realised that. His goals that he thought he had been closer to than anyone else in his year…Not good enough.
“Haaa, both of you meet with me now in my office. Everyone else, class is dismissed.” Alventi chimed, putting the class in complete chaos as students began to discuss what had just occurred.