“Come on, Ilya, you can do it. Maintain the pace just a bit more.” I said as I jogged behind the group of orphans.

The day was gray and cold gusts of wind descended from the northern mountains. The higher peaks were already covered with snow despite the winter being months away and the backyard trees were dyed red and yellow. Small clouds of vapor came out from the orphan’s mouths as they jogged around the backyard. Their noses were red and their bodies warm under the training padded jackets and gloves.

“Legs. Too. Short.” The girl panted.

“Wolf has to move all those muscles and he isn’t complaining.” I replied.

In mere weeks, Wolf had put up more muscle than a regular fourteen-year-old could. On the other hand, Zaon still looked somewhat like a pre-teen due to his elven heritage. The difference was disconcerting.

“Yeah, Wolf has gained some weight recently.” Firana pointed out without an ounce of strain in her voice. She ran just behind Zaon who was the one in charge of setting the pace.

“Was that comment necessary?” Wolf grunted as he examined his contour.

I switched my attention from the friendly banter to the gnome girl.

Saying that Ilya was in bad physical shape was an understatement. She was the only one who hadn’t even participated in physical training during the last year. Holst didn’t want to train Ilya because she was a gnome, so she spent her days helping Elincia with the kids. That had to change.

When we completed the lap, Ilya fell to the ground just a step ahead of the tree stump.

“We are not done just yet, lady.” I said, gasping for air.

Ilya wasn’t the only one behind in the cardio department. The [Swordsmanship] passive effect had refreshed my knowledge on sword fighting but unfortunately, it hadn’t improved my office worker physique. The double training sessions, the work at the farm, and the general chores of the orphanage had me wasted.

“Firana, lead the stretches.” I panted.

“Yes, sir!” The girl replied with a cheerful voice. “Let’s start with a set of lunges from here to the new farm.”

“Why can’t we just stretch while sitting like before?” Ilya rolled over her stomach and used both arms and legs to stand up. Her forehead was already glistening with sweat and her face was red from the effort.

“Dynamic stretching is better for your muscles. Come on, only a bit more before a pause for refreshment.” I replied as I walked to the starting line.

Ilya also followed us but not before cursing dynamic stretching.

We followed Firana across the esplanade as we performed the lunges.

“Remember your goal, Ilya, a Hunter has to be resilient and versatile. Shooting arrows isn’t enough in this day and age!” I cheered for her,

The gnome girl just clenched her teeth and endured forward.

By the end of the stretching, Ilya was once again on the ground, gasping for air.

“Let’s rest for a moment.” I said, sitting by her side while the rest of the group went to the well to refresh themselves at the well.

Ilya didn’t notice my presence, instead she stood still covering her eyes with her hands. The gnome girl’s body was slender, almost delicate, not used to strenuous labor. I hoped she would notice her progress within a week or two of exercise. She needed a motivation boost soon.

“You have to be nimble if you want to be a Hunter.”

“I know I said I wanted to be a Hunter but I feel I’m not made for this. Have you ever seen a gnome Hunter?” Ilya said with a defeated tone.

“There are no gnomes in my homeland so we will have to figure this out together.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Am I the first gnome you ever met?” Ilya’s ears fluttered.

“Yes. And you are leaving a great impression of gnomekind so far. I can see you are working hard both in the field and in the orphanage.”

Suddenly, Ilya jumped up and jogged towards the well with the other orphans. I couldn't help but notice there was some kind of racial pride in the orphans. Zaon liked Elincia’s elven surname and Ilya seemed to be receptive to the compliments towards her race. I wondered if something similar happened to Wolf.

To become the greatest teacher possible, I needed to learn everything about them.

When they returned from the well, I already had my longsword ready.

“Today we will focus on sparring. As the old masters said; you should benefit from fighting all kinds of opponents while you have the chance to fail.” I announced as the group gathered around the stump.

“What does that even mean?” Ilya asked.

“It means that you should practice a lot before someone actually tries to stab you in the eye.” Wolf replied with his deep voice.

I couldn’t pinpoint if he was joking or speaking seriously.

“That’s the gist of it. Make mistakes now to improve in the future.” I clapped my hands to gather the orphan’s attention. “Let’s start with the boys. Zaon, Wolf, put on your gloves and masks.”

I sat on the stump between Firana and Ilya. A moment later the boys were on their guards in the middle of the esplanade, studying each other. Wolf passed his sword to his left side and Zaon responded by adopting the ochs guard. As expected, Wolf pressed the attack first with a zornhau. His fencing style was more aggressive while Zaon relied more on parries and counters.

Wolf’s sword zipped through thin air as Zaon stepped back. Before the elven boy could go into the attack, Wolf retreated and raised his sword back into ochs and threatened Zaon with a high lunge.

“Remember, Wolf, the sword isn’t a club! Align the edge while striking!” I corrected them as the fight came to a standstill.

Zaon feinted an attack from the right but swung from the left. Wolf answered with a swing himself, trying to bind swords in the middle. The half orc had enough strength to control Zaon’s blade with ease. However, Zaon jumped to the right and quickly crossed his arms to perform a krumphau over Wolf’s sword.

I held my breath. It was the first time Zaon threaded a sequence of strikes during sparring.

“Good job!” I jumped from my seat as the strike reached Wolf’s arms with enough strength to be considered a wounding hit.

Zaon took off his mask and glanced at us with a surprised expression.

“I got it! Lv.1 [Longsword Mastery]!” He bellowed in victory, throwing his arms to the sky.

The first one to join the celebration was Firana. The girl jumped onto her feet and tightly wrapped an arm around Zaon’s neck. Instead of joining, Ilya sat down on the stump.

“What’s the deal with her?” Ilya crossed her arms in a defiant gesture.

“Isn’t it normal to be happy when a member of your family is successful?” I sat next to her.

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“Firana doesn’t see us as a family, though. She’s always doing what she wants without thinking about us. I can’t even remember the last time she helped Miss Elincia with the younger ones.” Ilya replied with a stark voice.

“I’m not doubting your words but people change, Ilya. Give her a chance and you will see.” I tried to sound conciliatory.

Ilya wasn’t happy.

I understood her reasoning. The gnome girl was the orphan who cared the most about the orphanage and fulfilling the role of supporting caretaker made her see things from a guarded perspective. It wasn’t strange for her to feel wary about Firana.

“Good job, Zaon and Wolf. Rest for a moment.” I clapped my hands to attract the attention of the class. “Firana, Ilya, you two go now. Put on the masks.”

Ilya put her mask on and grumbled as she took her position.

Firana moved with ease beneath the padded jacket. Ilya not so much. If anything, the gnome looked a bit ridiculous dressed in full sparring gear. Even after Elincia had worked hard sewing the jacket and gloves to fit Ilya better, every single piece of equipment was a little bit too big for her size.

“Ilya, you start in ochs. Firana, you hit with a zornhau for the right or for the left, your choice.” I instructed.

There was no use in letting the two girls spar freely, the gap in skill was too large for Ilya to learn anything. Ilya needed a more controlled approach.

Firana struck and Ilya successfully brought the point of her sword downwards to block her left side. Then, Firana stepped back and quickly linked a zornhau for the left, aiming at Ilya’s shoulder. The gnome girl tried to defend herself but her arms got tangled before she could adopt the right position.

Firana pulled back at the last moment and the sword merely bounced over Ilya’s padded jacket.

“Not bad, Ilya, just remember your footwork next time, if you don’t move your feet, your body will not follow. Let’s try one more time.” I yelled from the side.

There was no shortcut to learning any skill, even with my guidance Ilya had to do it for herself.

Firana repeated the strike at a slower pace but Ilya’s arms became tangled again and she failed to protect herself. By the third try Firana was moving slow enough for Ilya to dodge it with a backstep, but her guard was yet to be effective.

I could almost feel her frustration boiling inside Ilya. Years ago I had been in her place, fighting against my own body to make the right movements.

“Fuck this.”

Ilya took off her mask and threw it aside revealing a face on the verge of tears. She dropped her sword and with tears pooling in her eyes, she walked away towards the mansion.

Firana searched in my eyes for any sign of anger, like a kid who was caught doing something wrong, but I reassured her with a movement of my hand. I should’ve known this was going to happen. Ilya was the orphan who was having the least progress with swordwork and her frustration was showing for a while now.

“Should I go get her?” Zaon asked with a doubtful voice.

“I’ll go get her. Don’t worry, Zaon, she isn’t in trouble.” I replied seeing the elven boy's troubled face.

If anything, this was my fault.

I wanted to help Ilya to deal with her frustrations myself. The stakes were too high to let a kid deal with the situation.

“You three keep on sparring. I’ll sort this out in a second.” I ordered as I walked towards the manor.

Ilya was sobbing in the cramped space between the shed and the old stable. Her shoulders were slumped and her chest heaved as she tried to hold her tears. Her sweaty short hair stuck to her flushed cheeks and her gaze was fixed on a spot on the ground.

“Ilya, it’s me.”

The girl sniffled.

“I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t punish me for failing so I made a scene.” She said with a small voice. “But, I just can’t do it. Even Zaon is starting to get passives while I can barely hold a sword. I’m a gnome, Mister Clarke, I’m not supposed to become a good fighter.”

I had to give Ilya credit for her self awareness, she was the most mature of the group after all. And it seemed she was the most insecure too. Seeing her in such a vulnerable state broke my heart.

“It’s completely normal to learn at a different pace from others, Ilya. If anything, it’s my fault for not teaching you well enough.”

“You are a good teacher, Mister Clarke, it’s just I’m a useless gnome.” She sobbed.

‘I’m dumb’ was something kids usually said when they failed repeatedly. The problem emerged when they started believing those words. If they believed they were dumb, they stopped trying. Feelings of inadequacy were an insidious killer.

“You are not useless, Ilya. Come out from there so we can speak, I can’t physically crawl into such a cramped space.” I said.

Ilya hugged me just as soon as she crawled out of the space between the buildings. Her shoulders quivered as she sobbed against me. With all the work she put into looking over the younger orphans, it was easy to forget she was still a kid.

I let the girl cry.

As a teacher, comforting kids was a duty I had to perform from time to time. It was probably the most awkward part of my job. And I wasn’t good at it either. Finding the right words was near impossible, but I have developed a strategy after years of practice. Staying still until they calmed down.

I put my hand on Ilya’s head as she wept against my shirt.

After a minute, she stepped back and cleaned her face.

“Better?” I asked.

“No.” She replied, distressed. “I have tried really hard. I really do. When I saw Zaon getting better, I started staying up late practicing with a broom. For a moment I thought I had it, but when I grab an actual sword my arms get all tangled up and I can’t think straight.”

I nodded. It seemed to be a severe case of performance anxiety. Lots of kids had it when it came to speaking in front of a crowd or presenting a dissertation in front of the class. No matter how well they knew the topics, they couldn’t present them.

That kind of fear had a well known treatment. Practice. Repetition. I just needed Ilya to give it another chance.

“Sit in front of me and close your eyes.” I said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Now, take deep breaths. Try to empty your mind. Focus on breathing. Every time an idea pops into your mind, throw it away and return to nothingness.”

Ilya copied my stance and closed her eyes, soon enough her face turned into a placid expression.

“I can’t keep my mind blank.” Ilya said.

“It’s not about keeping a perfectly blank mind. It’s about detecting the thoughts and actively discarding them. It’s not about the result, it’s about the journey.” I replied.

I tried to follow my own advice but my mind was filled to the brink with worries. The fact it had been a fair while since I practiced meditation wasn’t helping either.

“Focus on your breath. Keep your mind blank. Discard all your concerns.” I said. “You are not useless, Ilya. You are just thinking you are useless. Keep your mind blank. Discard all your concerns.”

We remained still and I forgot about the passage of time. Preparing for the winter, teaching the kids, keeping the guardsmen away from the orphanage. All my worries and concerns sieged my mind but one by one I let them go, and when nothing left, I found a bright orb of wild blue flames floating in the middle of white nothingness.

My mana pool.

My instinct told me something was wrong with it. Just like concerns disturbed my thoughts, my anxious state of mind disturbed my mana pool. I took a deep breath, calming myself down, leaving all the distractions behind, and focused on my mana pool.

The flame slowly decreased its intensity until it turned into a perfectly round bright orb. Then, I extracted a small portion of mana. It did not materialize as tongues of fire but as ethereal silvery filaments. I turned them into a bright rapier with an intricate guard. They were surprisingly easy to shape.

Unlike my crude first attempts to control mana, this was more efficient. More elegant.

Remembering that Ilya was meditating in front of me, I opened my eyes.

“How are you doing, Ilya?” I asked.

The sun had changed its position in the sky. It was nearly lunchtime.

“Not bad. I was having trouble focusing but then I envisioned a small blue ball inside my chest that grew and shrunk with my breath.” Ilya stretched her back and legs simultaneously. “I feel… great actually.”

I ignored my recent discoveries and focused on the girl in front of me.

“Listen to me, Ilya. I’ll find a way to make you a great fencer and a Hunter, I promise. I just need you to not give up.” I said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

Ilya looked me directly in the eye. She used to glare at me with her eyes full of distrust. Her expression had changed.

“You won’t give up on me?”

“Never.”

“Even if I fail and end up in the army as a Mender?” Ilya’s voice almost broke.

Our problem was time. Within a year or two I could turn Ilya into the best gnome fencer in the world. But we didn’t have a year or two. We would be forced to run even before learning how to walk. And for Ilya, of all orphans, the army was a certain death sentence.

Up to that point, the Imperial Academy had seemed the best option to avoid the orphan’s conscription. Now, a rogue idea crossed my mind. Mr. Byrne’s cabin was still there in the woods with a functional magic portal. If the worst happened we could use it as an escape mechanism.

“I won’t let them conscript you, Ilya.” My voice came firm and full of certainty.

“Thank you.” Ilya sniffled.

With a smile on my face, I sent Ilya to help Elincia with lunch but I remained behind.

A human and a half-elf with a dozen orphans in a systemless world. Wouldn’t that be quite a sight? It would be hard to explain Ilya’s light blue skin or Wolf’s green skin and tusks. It will be even harder to explain the existence of snakefolk twins and a harpy girl.

Knowing I had a backdoor ready for me to escape was reassuring, but a part of my mind resisted that idea. I was in a world filled with magic, spells, and fantasy races. Why would I want to return to the gray reality of Earth?

The orphanage was my home now, in this world or the other.

“We will cross that bridge when we get there.” I sighed to myself.

“What bridge?” Elincia’s voice startled me.