Elincia stuffed her mouth with roasted meat before the tournament aides escorted us out of the VIP box. The first day of the competition was over, and half of the teams were eliminated. Other than Lord Gairon’s team being defeated in the first round, there weren’t any other upsets. The six teams representing the Ducal Families managed to qualify for the next round. The Marquis’ team had also qualified with a narrow victory over the team of a Baron serving the Jorn Family. Istvan Kiln had drastically improved since his fight against Ilya, leading his team to victory.
Meanwhile, jugglers performed a routine with yoga-ball-size fireballs in the arena. I let Elincia guide me as I glanced at the spectacle. I wondered if Prince Adrien wanted to gain the people's approval on top of showing the nobles the strength of the royal faction.
The crowd let out a whimper of surprise as the fireballs joined mid-air and turned into a fire dragon that hovered over the arena, throwing yellow and orange sparks from the mouth.
Elincia squeezed my arm and hummed a happy tune as we left the VIP box.
“Why so happy? Our fights will become harder from now on. The Imperial Cadets will be a tough nut to crack,” I said as the dragon vanished.
Elincia gave me a quizzical look.
“Robert Clarke, I swear to the System,” Elincia massaged her temples with a single hand. Then, she pulled my arm and kissed my cheek. “The Royal Family patronizes us, you knucklehead Scholar! You are the one who should be happier!”
Elincia was right. The kid’s achievement was nothing short of extraordinary, and the Royal Family patronage opened many doors, but my brain was more focused on what was yet to come. I couldn’t rest on my laurels, knowing the Marquis’ intentions were shady at best.
“We might have a problem,” I said.
Elincia sighed. “Can it wait? I don’t want to spoil the kids' victory.”
I nodded. It wasn’t like the Marquis would attack us in the middle of the tournament; we were too valuable in our current state. Afterward, I wasn’t so sure. We were on the way between Kellaren Odrac-Aias and Firana.
“We’ll wait until we are back at the orphanage. It will be best to talk in private,” Elincia said as we entered the crowded pavilion.
The tournament aides had brought a huge chalkboard and stationed it at the back of the pavilion. The teams gathered around as a Scribe drew the tournament brackets using [Magical Ink], and I had to stand on the tip of my toes to look over the battalion of huge redheads that was Lord Herran’s Team. The Scribe channeled his mana, and white chalk-like words appeared on the blackboard. The effect was quite neat. I needed that skill.
The Scribe paired the teams for the next round according to their scores. The Imperial Cadets, who had the best score, were paired with the worst-performing team in the first bracket. Team Herran came in second, followed by Team Jorn.
“Where are we?” Ilya asked. Even at the tips of her toes, she barely reached my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to spy through the sea of noble heads. Most participants were taller than me, even though they were only fifteen and sixteen years old. I wondered if the System helped combatants to grow tall and strong.
Wolf snatched Ilya and raised her over the crowd.
“Don’t thank me,” Wolf grinned.
Ilya gave him a soft, retaliatory kick to the side of the head and stretched her neck to peek over the crowd.
“Need more height?” Wolf joked, seemingly not afraid of a heel-kick to the face.
“If you want to keep your tusks, you’d better hush your mush,” Ilya grunted. “Oh, look! We are up against… House Farcrest?”
That was an unfortunate matchup, considering we both belonged to the royalist faction. The more teams we had in the later stages, the better the Royal Family would look in the eyes of the noble families. On the other hand, I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty pleasure in facing the Marquis’ team. Ilya had already beaten Istvan before. From the surviving teams, they were one of the easiest matchups.
And there was the fact the Marquis had refused to help the orphanage the first time I arrived in the city. It wouldn’t be anything but poetic if we managed to eliminate them from the tournament. I shook my head, trying to erase the idea of personal vengeance, but my efforts were cut short when I saw Elincia’s wicked smile.
“I’m going to feel bad about kicking Baronet Tirno’s son out of the tournament; he always used to donate a couple of silver coins,” Elincia grinned.
“You weren’t joking when you said you were a bad winner,” I joked.
“I figured out you should know me as I am,” Elincia replied, giving me her best puppy eyes.
I knew Elincia well enough to realize that beneath her jokes, she had a grudge against the nobility. It was not surprising. The City of Farcrest experienced an excellent economic boom while the orphanage sunk little by little. I couldn’t blame her.
My only regret was that we didn’t have enough time to level up at the Farlands before the tournament. Seeing the Imperial Cadets fight made it painfully evident that we would need every possible advantage to win the tournament. The next round was three days from now—just enough to keep the city excited without interfering with productivity. As much as I hated to admit it, the Marquis was doing a great job of turning Farcrest into a growing trading hub.
Captain Kiln and her team of guardsmen cadets cut short our conversation. Dressed in gray uniforms, the kids dragged her feet through the ground with defeated expressions. Duke Jorn's team had defeated them in record time. I missed half of the match just because the prince presented me to a Count who was also a Scholar. The man didn’t seem happy with the attention Prince Adrien was giving me. When I turned around, the Guard Cadets were already eleven points behind.
“Tough matchup. These maggots didn’t have a chance,” Captain Kiln said with resignation.
“Yeah, I saw that. Unfortunate,” I replied, glancing at the defeated cadets. “I’m sure they will do a great job defending the city if you train them personally, Captain.”
The cadets whimpered as if I had condemned them to eternal fire.
Duke Jorn's team leaned toward Classes like Assassin and Thief. I expected the nobles to comment on the team's composition, but no one seemed to bat an eye. It was hard to believe there wasn’t a stigma around those classes. The fact they stood silently in the corner of the pavilion, barely moving, didn’t help them radiate a trustworthy aura. Lyra Jorn was a chatterbox in comparison to her relatives.
“You are up against Tauron’s team next,” Captain Kiln said, drawing the conversation away from the defeat. “Don’t go easy on them because he’s the boss here. If a Farcrest team can win the tournament, it’s yours.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
[Awareness] told me her compliment was wholehearted.
“Thank you, Lady Izabeka. Your words are very kind,” Elincia said with a curtsy.
The cadets laughed.
“Cut it, Governess, or I’ll put a bounty on your ears,” Captain Kiln said.
I watched the scene in silence, thinking about Sir Janus’ suspicions. If the Marquis had turned his back on the orphanage, then Captain Kiln’s hands were tied. As much as she wanted to help us, she was the Captain of the Guard and owed loyalty to the city. Her scar-covered skin was enough to know she had bled for Farcrest.
“Are you okay, Rob?” Captain Kiln asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine. We are going to throw a little celebration at the orphanage. If you find some spare time, you can crash at the manor,” I quickly said.
Captain Kiln crossed her arms with a smile on her face. “Excellent. I’ll discipline these lowlifes, then I’ll go. There better be good booze.”
The cadets whined in silence as the teams abandoned the pavilion. Firana waved goodbye at the kids from Team Nara, and we all walked to the front yard, where our carriage was waiting for us. No one had invited us for an after-party, so I assumed we were free to go.
Captain Kiln escorted us to the vestibule, but I wasn’t ready to return to the orphanage. If Kellaren had both the Marquis and Lord Osgiria’s support, the protection from Prince Adrien’s patronage wouldn’t shield us against a high-level covert attack. I needed to gather all the cards possible before it was too late.
“Go ahead with the kids; I need to meet someone,” I said as we reached the doors.
Elincia glanced at me curiously but ultimately nodded. We kissed, making the kids cringe, and I waved as they drove away in the Skeeth-drawn carriage. The commoners leaving the Great Hall grounds moved to the side to avoid the Skeeth’s pointy teeth. The festive atmosphere seemed spoiled by the black cloud hanging over my thoughts.
“Who are you meeting? Prince Adrien?” Captain Kiln asked as the two of us were left alone, and for a moment, I thought about asking her about Janus’s suspicions.
I refrained from doing so.
“I want to talk with Lord Vedras,” I said.
“He’s under house arrest, you know?” Captain Kiln turned around and walked into the Great Hall. She signaled me to follow her with a head movement.
“I promise not to jailbreak him. I just want to ask him some questions,” I said as we climbed the staircase to the balconies. “I want to know how to turn an Alchemist into a Transmuter,” I lied.
“Don’t even try it. I have high-level guards all around the perimeter,” Captain Kiln smiled as she put her fingers in her mouth and whistled.
At the top of the staircase, a group of young guardsmen squared up, and Raudhan Kiln rushed to meet us. The guardsmen gave us furtive glances before scattering. My teacher’s sense told me they weren’t up to anything good.
“Escort Rob to Lord Vedras’s chambers. Quick,” Captain Kiln ordered before turning around and getting lost around the corner. Her demeanor surprised me. Although Captain Kiln worked Raudhan like a mule, she wasn’t usually so blunt.
I decided to ignore Captain Kiln’s demeanor for the time being; she probably acted not to blow Raudhan’s cover.
“Your friends don’t seem any good,” I pointed out as we walked towards the guest rooms. I had worked long enough with kids to know when someone was hatching a plan, and the guardsmen evidently were hiding something.
Two royal soldiers guarded the door to the guest’s quarters, but as soon as we approached, Raudhan showed them a badge, and they let us through. I wondered if the charm Captain Kiln had given me was enough to move freely around the Great Hall. Sir Janus’ medal probably served only to visit him.
Raudhan Kiln stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked both ways to ensure we were alone.
“Corruption has always been a thing among the Guard, but now someone is bribing the guards to look away. Like, literally. A guardsman on duty at the wall was paid seven pieces of silver to look away from the guest's wing all night,” Raudhan whispered.
Paid to look the other way sounded strange.
“Has anyone reported a theft? Anything important missing?” I asked
“None of the guests have reported anything. Most families have teams of personal Fortifiers to create a perfect barrier around their chambers all day,” Raudhan said. “I thought it could be someone climbing the walls and listening inside, but why would someone do that with all the spying and surveillance skills available? You can be sure most nobles have a hefty set of countermeasures.”
I nodded in silence. The case didn’t make much sense unless a random joker with a heavy coin purse was fooling around at the expense of Captain Kiln and the Guard.
“What about an Advanced or Prestige Class with access to [Shadow Step]?” I asked. At least two individuals fell into that category: Sir Janus and Duke Jorn. I didn’t think any of them had strong reasons to spy on other members of the nobility—other than Sir Janus spying on Lord Osgiria, perhaps. But Sir Janus was smart enough not to leave traces.
Raudhan shook his head. “[Shadow Step] can’t go through the Fortifier barrier. In fact, no transposition skill can. There’s a saying: where there be Fortifiers and Sniffers, there will be civilization.”
Raudhan ignored the fact that Prince Adrien had found a way to bypass the Sniffers. I wondered if we were halfway into absolute tyranny. With the help of Lord Vedras, the royal faction had the power to kill anyone despite the Sniffer’s protection, and it only took someone who could bypass the Fortifier’s barrier for no one to be completely safe from the Prince’s ire.
Without much more to discuss, we continued down the corridor.
The guest’s wing was bigger than I expected. It vaguely reminded me of the vestibule, with a vast inner garden illuminated by clumps of light stones, a fountain in the middle, and a set of double staircases on the opposite wall. Each section was delimited with the banners of the ducal families. Raudhan guided me to the section reserved for the Vedras Dukedom.
The guards let us through the solid double doors without asking questions, and a Fortifier opened the barrier so we could enter the chambers of House Vedras.
“That was easy,” I pointed out. The guards couldn’t have known if we carried hidden weapons or poisons.
“Lord Vedras is under arrest; the guards are a mix of his men, royal soldiers, and members of the Guard,” Raudhan explained as we got deep into the corridors.
We bumped into some members of the low nobility who greeted us as if we were twice as important as we were. A few elves and half-elves dressed in yellow and green robes were among the Vedras' ranks, which was strange considering almost all nobility was made up of pureblood humans—other than the small army of illegitimate sons and daughters of Lord Herran. I wondered if there was an elf settlement near Vedras’s holdings.
Raudhan stopped at the corner and pointed towards the big oak door at the end of the hallway.
“That’s Lord Vedras’ room,” he said, signaling the guards at the door that I was okay to enter.
I thanked him and turned the corner, but Raudhan grabbed my arm and put something in my hands.
“Tell the Caretaker I’m eternally grateful,” he said. Before I could react, he turned around and returned from the corridor we had arrived from.
I looked into my hand and found a small pouch. I hid it just as two half-elves could pass as Elincia’s distant cousins walked down the corridor. We exchanged a quick greeting before I turned around and walked to Lord Vedras’ room. The soldiers wore ceremonial green cloaks with a silver tiara and wooden staves instead of swords.
“Well, if it isn’t the Battle Scholar.” The oldest guard said.
I stopped short, searching in the corners of my memory for the face of the man. [Awareness] came to my rescue. It was Chieftain Alton from the Sentinels. We last met in the Farlands when Elincia and I searched for herbs.
“Chieftain Alton, it’s been a while,” I replied with a polite greeting.
I didn’t expect to find him outside the Farlands, cosplaying as a bodyguard of Lord Vedras.
“I’ve heard you’ve been gaining renown for these parts of the marquisate. I heard that your kids embarrassed some noble from House Osgiria,” Chieftain Alton said in his deep, raspy voice.
“Word travels fast,” I said, caught off guard. Although our fight was the first of the tournament, the first day of competition had just finished.
“Despite my age, I’m the second strongest combatant of the marquisate, Scholar. A Marksman has a good ear, and people these days talk very loud,” Chieftain Alton laughed at his own joke. Then, suddenly, his expression turned severe. “I’ve heard many things since the feast, so I must ask you this. Do you really want to be trapped in the same room with the man you locked up?”