I curled up deep under the blankets, counting the seconds the glowing paper’s light took to fade away. The correlation between mana used and the duration of the enchantment didn’t come as a surprise. However, I was yet to achieve a permanent enchantment. Using my whole mana pool and without resorting to Fountain mana, I made the paper shine for a few minutes before the enchantment ultimately faced away.
The amount of mana required for a permanent enchant must’ve been tremendous, which led me to believe all enchanted items drew mana from somewhere. The light stone was the most obvious example; someone had to recharge them regularly. In the same fashion, the Aias Sword absorbed mana from felled monsters. Firana’s billowing cape, on the other hand, seemed to work on its own. Maybe it drew mana from the environment. If so, it must use minuscule amounts because I couldn't detect any changes no matter how much I triggered the enchantment.
I focused back on the paper, counting the seconds. My attempts to make long-lasting shining paper had yet to succeed, but I didn’t want to experiment with Fountain mana until I was confident in my methods.
A knock on the door made me lose count. “Rob? Are you there?”
“Come in! Don’t touch the sword!” I yelled.
The door opened, and Elincia entered my room.
“Ginz’s first lesson was a success; he showed a lumberjack doll that moved by itself, and the kids were blown away—” Elincia suddenly stopped.
Although I couldn’t see her, I pictured her astonishment. Since I had started experimenting with the light stones, my room had become a makeshift workshop full of loose papers and spilled ink. Other than overseeing the sparring sessions of my class, I had been locked in my room investigating. I clicked my tongue. Reviewing Ginz’s lessons was one of my top priorities, but enchantmenting had become almost addictive.
Expanding my repertoire of runes wasn’t my only focus. I also wanted to craft items. A flare, a flash grenade, and a flashlight would be helpful to survive the Farlands. There were only two days until Ilya’s birthday and a week until Firana’s. Within the next two months, all my class would turn fifteen, and they would get their classes. After that, it was only time until they wanted to hunt monsters to level up.
Elincia had told me low levels were the most dangerous ones. Due to the cumulative nature of the stats, the initial growth was slow. Only after level fifteen or twenty, depending on the class, could one see superhuman strength and speed.
“The ankle biters are still obsessed with combatant classes, but at least they showed interest in Ginz’s creations. I understand now why Mr. Lowell filled the orphanage with Scholars, Craftsmen, and Enchanters. He wanted none of us to risk our lives fighting monsters,” Elincia sighed.
“Someone will have to risk their life, one way or another,” I replied.
For that reason, I wanted to develop a magical flash grenade as soon as possible. Using the tiniest amount of Fountain mana, I enchanted the next piece of paper and started counting the seconds.
“Okay, I’ll ask. What are you doing in there?” Elincia said.
I needed a dark room to measure the enchantment duration precisely.
“Quickly, come inside,” I pulled my head out of the thick woolen blanket just to dive inside a moment later. The piece of paper in my hand was starting to dim, but within the darkness of the blankets, it shone clear as day.
“Really? After you turned me down the other day—?” Elincia crossed her arms over her chest just to be interrupted by me.
“Just do it!”
Grumbling, Elincia raised the woolen blanket and sat beside me. The enchanted foil of paper shone with the strength of a small candle for a minute before fading away. When I pushed the blanket back, I expected to encounter an excited Elincia sitting in front of me. Instead, I got an annoyed one.
“Robert Clarke?” she asked with fake gentleness.
“Yes, my love?” I tried to soften whatever reprimand was coming in my direction.
“When did you get the ability to enchant things?”
If my memory didn’t fail me, I had shown my character sheet to Elincia during our heart-to-heart conversation a couple of nights before. I summoned my character sheet and showed it to Elincia.
Name: Robert Clarke, Human. (Light-Footed, Night Vision)
Class: Runeweaver Scholar Lv.1 (Displayed Class: Scholar Lv.15)
Titles: Out of your League, Hot for Teacher, Confidant, Classroom Fiend, Favorite Teacher (97), Father Figure (2), Master Tutor, Silver Scholar, Delinquent Reformer (5), Stalwart Mentor (7), Making the Difference, Role Model, Expert Mathematician, Expert Physicist, Adept Historian, Adept Linguist, Journeyman Biologist, Novice Chemist, Novice Orator.
Passive: Lv.5 Swordsmanship, Mana Mastery, A̵w̴arɐnes̵s, Master of Languages.
Skills: I̶d̶en̴t̶i̷f̴y, Stun Gaze, Intimi̷dɐte, Minor Illusion.
Oh.
“What does my class say?” I asked.
“Scholar Lv.15. Pitiful level, by the way,” Elincia replied.
I made the prompt disappear and resummoned it, this time trying to broadcast the intention of showing my actual Class. The System had been wise by giving me a believable cover for my new Class. However, I was adamant about telling Elincia the truth. The prompt appeared before me, and I instantly turned it around.
Elincia’s eyes shot open, and her face became paler than it already was.
“I’m sorry, but your boyfriend is a level one chump now,” I jokingly said.
“Robert Clarke, I swear to the System—,” Elincia said, at a loss of words.
From a logical point of view, I knew Runeweaver was as overpowered as a crafting class could be. Despite the limitations imposed by my current level, I knew the Class had limitless potential at further stages. I ignored the position of my new Class in this world’s hierarchy, though, but Elincia’s tone gave me the idea it wasn’t a good thing to be a Runeweaver.
Elincia massaged her temples like every time the kids made her lose her cool.
“Be calm, Rosebud. Rob is a traveler from another world,” Elincia said, suddenly putting her arms on my shoulders. Something was far from right. “Runeweavers are a quasi-legendary class, Rob. Kingdoms fight for Runeweaver Baram’s creations to this day. You have to keep it a secret, your class, your creations. Otherwise, they will capture you and use you.”
I wondered if Runeweaver Baram was Byrne’s predecessor.
Suddenly, my blood froze as my brain connected the dots. Just before disappearing, Byrne underwent the same transformation from a Scholar to a Runeweaver. I wondered if he had revealed his class to someone untrustworthy fourteen years ago and had been captured afterward. The timeframe made sense. Fourteen years ago, he disappeared. Then, after a decade, he mastered the runeweaving skill and opened a portal back to Earth to escape. That would explain the runic annotations in the wood cabin and his appearance in the law firm five years ago.
Just when I believed the mystery to be solved, another clue emerged. However, Byrne’s whereabouts were still a mystery. If he managed to escape, where was he now?
Elincia, detecting I was focused on something else, grabbed my face with both hands and forced me to look at her eyes.
“Rob, swear on my life, you will keep it a secret,” Elincia said. “Whatever you enchant, don’t go around flaunting it. Nobles have strict vigilance upon enchanted items entering their territories. You’ll not be able to say you bought it from the local Enchanter because there is no Enchanter in Farcrest.”
Elincia looked at me with a worried expression.
“I’ll keep the secret. It’s not like I have too much to show yet. The System Avatar said it would take me a decade or more to master the runeweaving technique, so there’s still time until I can make something minimally useful,” I replied.
Elincia pulled me into an embrace that left me without air inside my lungs.
“Aren’t you happy your boyfriend is a legendary Runeweaver?” I asked once she let me go.
“I’m more worried you hurt yourself in the process,” Elincia admitted. “In fact, you should stop experimenting with glowing paper altogether and go to the market to buy preserved fruit for Ilya’s cake. I want it to be special. A girl only turns fifteen once.”
I smiled. Being back to conducting ‘level-one’ quests was refreshing. It reminded me that despite the world-saving quest the System Avatar had given me, the most important thing in my life was still the orphanage. I left the stack of paper by the side and sat on the bed. There will be plenty of time to investigate Byrne and Runeweaver Baram after the kids were accepted into the Imperial Academy.
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“How are younger kids dealing with the announcement of our relationship?” I asked while I put on my boots. Since the announcement, I have spent most of the time enclosed in my room or supervising the older orphan’s training.
Elincia gave one last worried glance at my stack of paper before answering.
“They are happy; the youngest kids believed we were already a couple since day one, so they are confused. Ash said I could’ve done better, but he thinks too highly of me,” Elincia giggled as if she had told herself a funny joke. “You are the only madman who would’ve looked at a single mother of twelve and thought, ‘yep, that’s the one I want.’”
“Thank the System. He has been pushing our relationship since day one,” I replied, tying the belt with the sheath around my waist.
“I totally will,” Elincia replied, leaning for a kiss.
I put my cloak on, and Elincia walked me to the front door. We left the sleeping quarters and found Zaon sitting in the reception hall. The elven boy had his mouth full of apple, and a small trickle of juice fell from the corner of his mouth.
“I d-don’t want Firana to eat half my apple in a single bite, so I came here,” Zaon quickly explained himself despite no one asking.
“But Firana has her own apple, doesn’t she?” I asked. Food was evenly distributed among the orphans, although Firana and Wolf made sure to eat any leftovers left by the smaller kids.
“Firana says her [Strong] trait made her more hungry than the rest,” Zaon shrugged.
I wondered if it was true; Firana was one hungry girl.
“If you have so much free time, go with Mister Clarke to the market. He has been forgetting about picking the uniforms from Miss Nasiah’s store, so he will need extra hands to bring back everything,” Elincia said.
Zaon obediently darted toward his room and returned not a minute later with his cloak on.
“I was going to do it… eventually,” I said.
Elincia didn’t seem convinced. She adjusted our scarves and kissed us on our foreheads before expelling us from the manor. The cold wind bit my face. Winter had fallen with full force over Farcrest. I expected to see snow any day soon.
“Are you worried about something, Mister Clarke?” Zaon asked.
“With the tournament around the corner, there are a few things to be worried about,” I replied with a smile. It wasn’t a complete lie, but other things worried me more.
The coldness of the day had made me remember Holst. If Elincia and I hadn’t messed up his plans, the orphanage would’ve run out of food and firewood by now. I didn’t want to think about the implications of a harsh winter.
I wondered how Holst would react seeing the orphanage going stronger than ever.
Holst was the Marquis’ cousin, which meant Captain Kiln and Sir Janus’ protection would not be as helpful against him. I racked my brain, wondering if the Marquis was involved with Holst’s plot against the orphanage. Sending kids to the army earlier than usual favored the Marquis’ tax evasion plot. Yet, the Marquis hadn’t directly moved a finger against the orphanage since my arrival, as if he had completely forgotten about us.
Captain Kiln believed the Marquis wasn’t evil, and I didn’t have solid reasons to doubt her word. As far as nobility went, Captain Kiln had been one of the few to treat me fairly, even favorably. I sighed. If the Tournament went well, I’d teach her Blackjack with a detailed arithmetic guide on cheating.
“What about you, Zaon? Something worrying you other than Firana stealing your apples?” I asked.
Zaon squinted as if he were running a diagnostic of all his current worries. “No, nothing except the apple thing.” He replied with a smile.
“Not even worry about your Class?” I inquired. Last time, Zaon had been worried about becoming a lowly Soldier.
“I’m more worried about Firana,” Zaon shrugged. “She said she wouldn’t go to the Imperial Academy unless we all go together. I don’t mind failing. It can happen realistically, but I don’t want to drag Firana down.”
“You will have to show off during the Tournament then,” I said, pleased by the boy’s stance. I wasn’t wrong when I told him he already had the spirit of a knight.
We arrived at the market, and Zaon told me Ilya’s favorite fruits. The preserves were on the expensive side of the spectrum, but we had enough money to spend a little here and there. I missed using [Identify], but my mana sense made me think someone had used a preserving skill on the fruit. Maybe it was a [Chef] skill.
We walked down the market when a familiar voice called me from an alley.
“Mister Clarke? Zaon?”
Corin, the messenger girl, approached us. She looked different from the last time I had seen her. The girl wore a brand-new cape and shiny boots. She had tied her blonde hair in a high ponytail and seemed better fed than the last time. I was impressed. Both cloaks and boots were important work implements for someone used to moving around the city, even if it rained or snowed. I wondered if she had found a new job.
“Hello, Corin. How are you doing?” I asked.
“I was going to the manor. I have several order requests for ‘Ginz Decks’ for Master Ginz. His latest invention seems to have gathered a lot of traction among nobles,” Corin said politely.
Ginz was smart. Drawing the royal family on the face cards had been a great idea. With the influx of nobles plaguing Farcrest, everyone would want their own set.
“How do you know Ginz is living at the orphanage now?” I asked. As far as I remembered, Coring hadn’t appeared in the orphanage since Ginz’s arrival.
Coring winked. “There’s a reason why I’m the best Courier in town despite being level one. Imagine what I could do when I get my first few levels. The other couriers hate me.”
Her smug expression made me laugh. Not even a month ago, Coring looked like a hungry scarecrow fighting against the grim prospects of the future. Despite not living with us, Elincia and I had gotten a liking for the girl.
“Did you get the Class?” I asked.
Corin smiled. “Yup, the System offered me to be a Courier as soon as I touched the System Shrine. I didn’t even have to ask for it.”
That meant she had turned fifteen not so long ago.
“Well, happy birthday, Corin. We will celebrate Ilya’s birthday tomorrow; if you want to eat cake, you can crash at the manor,” I said.
“I’ll try,” Corin replied, barely hiding the shine in her eyes. “I’ll be going then. Goodbye, Mister Clarke. Goodbye, Zaon!”
An instant later, the girl glided across the street at a surprising speed, dodging pedestrians, stalls, and handcarts pulled by strong half-orcs alike. The way she contorted was both surprising and worrying. I didn’t need [Awareness] to tell me she was using a movement-related skill.
“She does look like Firana, huh?” I pointed out.
“At least Corin respects my boundaries,” Zaon sighed.
We walked away from the market into the maze of alleys. Despite being in the middle of winter, the city won’t stop. The influx of royal troops and nobility from all over the kingdom had pushed Farcrest’s productive sector to the limit. The most expensive taverns and inns were full of officers, while plain soldiers spent their hard-earned money in cheaper establishments. I wondered when those men and women set foot in a town the last time, but everyone seemed to be having a great time.
There was a hint of festivities in the air, but even Farcrest was a paradise compared to the Farlands.
I opened the door of Nasiah’s store and entered first. As usual, the woman sat behind the counter with an irritable expression. At first, I wondered if a soldier had tried to haggle too aggressively, but then I remembered she wasn’t a fan of the royal army. Risha, her only living relative, had enlisted almost a decade ago, never to return.
“The Discount Dryad chickened out again?” Nasiah greeted us. At first, she laid her eyes on me, but she quickly noticed Zaon.
“Good afternoon, Miss Nasiah,” Zaon politely greeted.
A part of me felt relieved it was Zaon and not Ilya who had tagged along with me.
“Elincia told me the uniforms are ready,” I said.
I wasn’t on the design committee, so I worried about Farcrest's fashion trends. Despite most people using plain, Renaisansesque clothing, my visits to the Great Hall had revealed courtiers with peculiar styles. Thighs weren’t as menacing as puffy pants.
“Are you really going to make those kids embarrass themselves in front of the nobility? The gnome girl will not last a minute,” Nasiah asked as she rummaged through a chest behind the counter.
“We are well prepared. Ilya is a smart fighter; despite her height, she has even taken points from Wolf and me during sparring,” Zaon said before I could reply.
Nasiah slowly raised with a burlap sack in her hands.
“Becoming a good fighter takes more than a couple of tricks, Butterknife-Ears. Lowell made Elincia a resourceful woman, and the Scholar is not far behind, but there’s a limit to everything. Not knowing your limits could result in your death or worse,” Nasiah said.
“You’ll have to see us before giving your verdict,” Zaon replied with a so far unseen poise.
Nasiah grunted and opened the burlap sack. “At least one of the kids got the best of both of you.”
The uniforms were gorgeous: an elegant dark blue padded jacket with seven gray cloth buttons on the left side, a gray padded coif, and gray breeches. On the right shoulder was a white embroidered crest: a flower and a quill. Elegant, calm, sober. It was beyond perfect and could be used as under armor for a chain mail or brigandine. The Fashion Gods would be pleased.
Zaon tried on the uniform. With his blonde, almost white hair and delicate features, the boy looked like a prince from a fairytale.
“Congratulations, Scholar, you are now the leader of your own fencing academy,” Nasiah said. This time, her voice came out strangely warm. She grabbed a uniform and handed it to me.
I noticed there weren’t four but five uniforms.
“How did you get my measurements?” I asked as I noticed the jacket fit me perfectly.
“Ask the Discount Dryad. Maybe she spiked your tea with a sleeping potion,” Nasiah chuckled. “Don’t try to pay me. I already deducted the price from the credit. I got a good discount for the lot.”
We moved around, getting a feel of the uniforms, and even Nasiah seemed amused.
“No noble house uses blue and gray. Elincia wanted yellow and red to stand out, but I convinced her to reconsider,” Nasiah explained with a satisfied smile.
I owed her a great favor. Red and yellow were too much for my monochromatic liking.
“Well, enough modeling. I have manifests to audit and coin towers to count,” Nasiah gave us the boot. “You better prove your words are not just mindless bravado, Butterknife-Ears.”
“I will,” Zaon replied.
We returned the uniforms to the burlap sack and headed to the entrance. As I opened the door, a half-orc with shoulders as broad as the doorway appeared before me. Instinctively, I moved to the side to let him enter. Unlike the rest of the half-orcs of Farcrest, this one was dressed in the colors of the royal army.
“Hey, Auntie! I came to visit!” The half-orc said.
I turned around as Nasiah pulled a magic wand from behind the counter. With a single arm movement, the woman summoned a burst of wind knives. My new [Light-Footed] trait propelled me forward. My hands moved by themselves, raising a mana shield between Nasiah and the half-orc. He didn’t seem surprised.
“Come on, Auntie! It’s me. This is how you receive your dear nephew after so long?”
“Risha? Is that you?” Zaon asked.
.