Kevin stared as the elder’s proclamation echoed through the room. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d arrived this morning, but this was not in any of his predictions.
If she was really the head of the whole formations department, he could see why she wouldn’t want to teach a beginner class. Hell, teaching in the outer sect at all could be close to an insult for her.
He even understood the point about her fellow elders. If she’d been asking them for more resources, it wouldn’t look good to cancel a beginner class that might have produced them.
But surely there were better options than showing up yourself before snapping and tossing all your planning aside. Couldn’t she have just ordered those refusing inner sect students to do it?
Elder Fischer flicked a hand before he could come to any conclusions. A sheet of paper appeared with the movement, joined by the slightest flash of Qi from one of her rings.
Kevin’s eyes widened, the current situation momentarily forgotten. This was the first time he’d ever seen through one of the higher realm cultivators’ item production tricks. It had been a spatial item all along!
Did that mean anyone could buy one? He certainly wouldn’t say no to being able to carry everything he owned with him. Or would there be other restrictions? A prohibitive Qi cost, perhaps?
“I see here that only two of you have also registered for FORM-102,” Fischer said, her tone sharp. “Which tells me that only two of you ever plan to be useful. Those two can stay; you know who you are.”
“As for the other four,” she leveled a glare toward the middle and back of the room. Her hand shifted back and forth for a moment before landing at the back. “You, why are you here?”
Turning around, Kevin was just in time to see the man she pointed to snap into a ramrod-straight standing position.
“Jeremy Davis, Ma’am.”
“I know,” Fischer responded, her tone dry as a desert. “It’s on your sect token. Why are you taking this class?”
“Well,” Jeremy stuttered, seeming to struggle with his response. “I’ve filled up most of my other classes with array subjects. I didn’t need any basic combat training, so my adviser suggested that getting an overview of the other enchantment classes might be…”
“Huh,” the elder interjected as if she’d caught him red-handed. “So you’re not just here to waste my time but to steal my knowledge and take it to my rivals. Out, out now.” She finished with a shooing motion.
Jeremy was sweating by this point but tried to hold his ground. “It’s not like that… I mean… I still need to do five classes this season.”
“I don’t care,” Fischer shook her head. “Either go back to that oh-so-helpful adviser or just enjoy the extra time. If anyone complains, you can tell them I authorized it.”
After opening and closing his mouth a few more times, Jeremy gathered his things and wandered off, looking dazed.
“So that leaves three,” Fischer continued, turning toward the other disciples. At this point, they were practically shaking in their boots; only his fellow front-row disciple seemed mostly unaffected.
She had to be the other person signed up for FORM-102. Thank god Foster had given him both.
“Assuming none of you have some underhanded plan like mister Davis,” Fischer continued. “You all have a choice to make right now. Either join FORM-102 this season or get out like he did. You can even have the same deal; I’ll sign off on a free class for anyone who wants it.”
She paused for a few seconds, foot tapping on the ground, before continuing with narrowed eyes. “When I said now, I wasn’t joking.”
The remaining two disciples at the back glanced at each other before hurrying to join Jeremy in retreat.
“What a shame,” Fischer snorted. “I even thinned out the numbers perfectly. Five hours and five students. I wonder if they’d still have left if they knew what they were giving up.”
“Nothing for it, though; a couple of you are just going to be extra lucky,” she laughed, shaking her head.
Kevin licked his lips, trying to catch up with the whirlwind that had just occurred. Five hours and five students, had the elder implied what he thought she had?
“Right then, here’s how we’re going to handle things,” Fischer continued, turning back to the board.
“Instead of wasting five hours a week of my life teaching a general course to a bunch of future dropouts, we’re going to split the time into intensive one-on-one tutoring. There’s nothing under the heavens that has a higher chance of making you productive than that.”
“Be grateful,” Fischer turned back with a smirk. “Not even most of my inner sect students get this kind of opportunity.”
“Disciple Blake,” she said, glancing over at Kevin before he could speak. “You’re in FORM-115 as well. Are you serious about it?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Kevin snapped out a response, straightening his back. That was the formations class he’d personally picked. If anything, it was the class he was most serious about of the lot.
The elder stared for a moment, her gaze seeming to pierce through his entire body. “Excellent,” she said, at last, face shifting into a welcoming grin. “You’re in my good books then. Stay behind; you get this two-hour slot.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“You’re going to need it to keep up with that class.”
“Emily Reywood,” Fischer continued, turning to the other woman in front. “You already had FORM-101, so you’re next up. You get the first two hours on Thursday. Henry Lawson,” she glanced up towards the middle.
“The last to sign up gets the least reward; you have the third hour on Thursday. Though if you impress me more than these two,” her mouth quirked into a smile. “I’ll give you half their time.”
“Make sure you’ve signed up for FORM-102 before you arrive, or I’ll be most displeased. Until then, get out. You too, Miss Reywood. I’ll see you both on Thursday.”
The two hurried to obey, leaving Kevin alone with the strangest teacher he’d ever met.
----------------------------------------
“Ah, that was fun.” Elder Fischer chuckled, turning back as Kevin’s brain kicked into gear. “We’ve burned a chunk of your time with all that admin work, Mister Blake. But what do you know; I just happen to have a half-hour window after this we can use fill it.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Kevin responded as she clearly expected, his mind whirling in the background. Had she planned this all along? The extra time she ‘happened’ to have while being so busy suggested she had.
If she’d been aiming for five students, as he now expected, she’d have needed it to fit two full-hour sessions this morning. As it was, it seemed he was the beneficiary of those other two disciples’ decisions.
Or at least, he hoped so. This was either going to be incredibly beneficial or a complete nightmare.
“So tell me, Mr. Blake,” Fischer said, stalking forward with a predatory expression. “What makes a fresh disciple with not a hint of formation experience decide to take my Combat Formations class?”
“Well, I agreed to take whatever class...” Kevin began.
“I know all about that,” the elder interrupted, shaking her head. “Those lazy bastards in the work allocation department were so proud of themselves for sending a single cultivator my way.”
“Why, they even insisted I couldn’t possibily cancel the class after they’d gone to so much effort. But they only forced you into FORM:101 and 102. You made the choice for combat formations.”
“Right…” Kevin responded, gathering his thoughts. This was the point to make a good first impression if there ever was one. How many people in the outer sect had such a chance for private tutoring with an inner sect elder? The number had to be vanishingly small.
Even if something was going on beneath the surface, and it almost had to be, this was a chance that could push him to where he needed to be.
“Those two classes might have been picked for me, but I’m still going to put my all into them,” Kevin began, observing the elder’s face as he spoke. She wasn’t giving a single hint away, so he pushed on.
“I agreed to handle whatever work the sect needed, and I intend to keep that promise. Pushed on me or not, formations are going to be a guaranteed part of my life for years to come.”
“Further, I already had more than a little interest in them after a formation tattoo fixed one of my cultivation blockages. So When my adviser suggested I needed a harder-hitting combat class, the idea to take formations even further hit me.”
“If they’re already going to be a part of my life, why not make them a part of my fighting style as well? It narrowed the different areas I have to focus on, letting me put more effort into learning them well.”
Fischer hummed for a moment, leveling another piercing stare at him. “Good answer,” she nodded at least. “A little embellished, but the core of it was true, and your reasoning is sound.”
“You’ll have to work hard to catch up; the other students in the class completed FORM-101 six months or even a year ago. They’ll be more ahead in formation skill, combat ability, and advancement.”
Kevin winced but met her gaze with determination. He had expected nothing less, and this was the chance to catch up he needed. “We’d better get started then. Just… one question first, if you don’t mind, Elder.”
Fischer raised an eyebrow but gestured for him to continue.
“I’ve heard from both you and my adviser that there’s far more formation work than the sect has people. So… why not work harder to attract outside talent? I can see why straight-up hiring contractors might make the sect look weak, but what about more disciples?”
The issue being about reputation was the only answer he’d been able to come up with so far. There was no way a sect in the top thirty-six would want to admit they were lagging behind, but surely they could do something in secret.
“That is a complicated issue with multiple answers,” Fischer responded after a long pause. “It also includes many factors we rarely discuss with regular disciples. Suffice to say, that sects have a purpose much like cultivators do.”
“Dilute that purpose, and you dilute your results.”
“Ah,” Kevin responded. He sort of got the idea, though the full implications felt like they extended far beyond his comprehension. “And letting a bunch of people into the sect who just want a paycheck would do that. What about just a few better disciples?”
“And where do you think the previous teacher for this class came from?” Fischer laughed darkly. “It’s not so easy to attract already established talent, not when the government, or the top three sects, can outbid us fivefold.”
“And, as Mr. 'Dead in a Mystic Realm’ shows, mediocre talent breeds mediocre results. No, what we need is to build talent in-house. The most we can do is to tweak the entry criteria just a touch to let in people who might go the way we want.”
She glanced archly at him as she finished as if saying he should know all about that. Which, to be fair, he did. The elder had just described the exact situation that led to him getting admitted.
“Now, enough of that,” Fischer continued, turning back to the chalkboard. “Get a book out and be ready to take notes like your life depends on it. It very well might; faulty formations are no joke.”
“This session we’re going to cover three of the most basic, elementary formations that exist. It is rare for them to be used alone. Instead, they form the part of most advanced patterns.”
“Looking at my dearly departed student’s notes, he spent a week on each to ensure the slowest in the class kept up. I trust we won’t be having that issue,” she turned back to Kevin with a raised eyebrow. “So we’ll be covering all three in these two hours.”
“Won’t be a problem, Ma’am,” he responded, his voice steady. It might be a lot to get through, but three times the normal class speed was just what he needed. If they could get through the entire curriculum at the same rate, then who knew what advanced techniques he might be able to learn for the rest of the season?
“Excellent,” Fischer responded with a satisfied nod. “Then first up, we have an energy attracting formation. The basis for that tattoo hidden under you’re shirt, in fact.” The elder said, glancing over as if she could look through not just cloth but the flesh and bone of his torso as well.
“Runa did a decent job there but could use more work on her fundamentals. Make sure you let her know when you see her next.” At Kevin’s nod, she continued.
“Be careful to note the formation flags down perfectly. Since I’ve cannibalized the practice lesson, you’ll be making each of these on your own before we meet next. Come up if you need to.”
“Some beginners think all six flags are identical at first glance, but I assure you they are not.”
Kevin winced and stood, grabbing his book; he’d thought exactly that.
“Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll double-check your work,” Fischer continued as she pulled a book out and moved over to lean on a desk. “We still need to cover both the containment and filtration arrays before we can discuss the basics of creating flags.”
Kevin nodded absently as he leaned in to stare at the finer details on the board. What at first looked to be miner scribbles grew ever more complex the closer he looked. How had she even drawn these with a stubby piece of chalk?
And he had to replicate these in a real formation before next Monday?
It looked like his life was about to get very interesting.