"Your sensei orders you to go up to the twenty-eighth floor immediately," the courier spoke quickly and clearly, his appearance hinting that it was urgent. "Take food, armor, and all the necessary belongings for a march. Master Jun said to be ready to depart immediately."
What Stas knew about Master Jun made him leap up and rush into his room.
Fortunately, Ordyntsev had suspected something like this, so all the necessary items were already packed in a bag and a belt with pockets. The armor was hanging on a special wooden rack.
Even so, it took some time.
Snatching up his spear, Stas ran decisively towards the stairs, with Leviathan smoothly gliding after him, easily keeping up with her master. The servants, going about their business, pressed themselves against the walls to let the hurried pair pass.
The steps flew by one after another as Stas even began to use prana to make the climb easier.
He stumbled a couple of times and nearly fell down to the floor below, but he still managed to reach the needed level, which was almost at the very top.
This floor, as far as Stas knew, belonged to the Sumada Clan's bureaucratic apparatus. It was here that some of the councilors convened.
Ordyntsev burst into the spacious hall, quickly looking around, took a few steps, and then heard a mocking voice from somewhere to the side.
"Oh! Finally, one of my damn students decided to show up. I was starting to think my balls would go gray by the time you arrived!" After these words, the sound of someone prying a cork off with their teeth was heard.
"Jun, how many times have I asked you to be more cultured?!" a woman's indignant voice lashed through the air like a whip. Perhaps it was facilitated by a genuine wave of bloodlust emanating from the woman standing near the bench.
But let's describe everything in order.
Near the heavy double doors stood a sturdy bench, upon which a large and impossibly hairy man was sprawled out, casually throwing his leg over the other and, at this very moment, loudly spat out a cork, which literally shattered against the opposite wall.
Ordyntsev, who narrowly missed having his hood knocked off by the cork, preferred not to move at all to avoid getting a heavy bottle to the forehead this time. Somehow, he was not in doubt that Master Jun could pull off even more unexpected antics.
Leviathan froze at his feet like a startled mouse, correctly assessing the situation.
The corpulent bottle was overturned, and Jun began to greedily gulp straight from the neck, trying to drown out the scolding woman with his slurping. It wasn't working well, and he kept grimacing and writhing as streams of alcohol ran down the corners of his lips.
"How much longer are you going to drink, Jun?!" the woman scolded, undoubtedly a warmaster herself. "The fourth decade is upon you! Stop disgracing yourself; you're not a youth anymore..."
"Shut up, woman!" Jun bellowed, rising to his feet, allowing Stas to see him in full.
Ordyntsev's new sensei would involuntarily draw attention in any crowd. He had a very broad, muscular torso, sloping shoulders, and correspondingly massive arms. His neck was so low-set on his muscles that it was almost invisible.
His hair, like his body hair, was pitch black. The latter often grew unevenly, in patches, as if Jun had once been covered in a full coat of fur that someone decided to pluck out but didn't finish the job.
"Don't you raise your voice at me, brute!" Stas watched in amazement as the woman, seemingly frail compared to this behemoth, pushed him in the chest and made the veritable killing machine step back.
The woman looked ordinary, except she was clearly in her forties and had an incredibly thick, intricately plaited braid hanging behind her. Her warmaster clothes clearly hinted at her being no ordinary figure.
The rule of this world was unequivocal: "See an old or adult warmaster, get serious."
They glared at each other grimly for a few seconds, then the woman suddenly opened her arms and buried herself in the hairy chest of the giant, who awkwardly patted her on the back.
"Cut out the mushy stuff, Miyako. Why are you spoiling my student? He might just decide that I'm not immune to human feelings."
"As if you wouldn't dispel that notion immediately. Master Jun and humanity? What nonsense," Jun's stern face twitched into a smile. "I'm glad to see you safe and sound, brother." The woman ran her fingers over one of the scars on his arm and frowned. "I don't remember this one."
"Just a Rangiku who didn't want to die," Jun shrugged indifferently. "I had to help him, but he managed to slice me with his claws. Though it was hard for him to keep jumping without a throat, and especially after I broke every damn bone in his body..."
From the stairs came the sound of footsteps, and Stas got a chance to see his future teammate. Or rather, a female teammate.
Blonde hair, which was unusual for the dark-haired locals. The cute but haughty face of a seventeen-year-old girl. She was a bit above average height, and her figure already hinted that she would blossom even more in the future.
The warmaster girl was dressed in orange. She was armed with a slightly inward-curved sword, something resembling a Turkish yataghan.
The only thing that ruined it was the contemptuous look she gave Stas, which immediately added to his headache.
'So, she's from the clan and, judging by her expensive equipment, even from a high-ranked family. Hopefully, the second one will be less trouble.'
"And here comes the second pain in my ass," Jun shook his head. "All right, Miyako, let's talk later. The third freak is supposed to arrive soon, and he's going to regret making me wait."
Stas tried to swallow quietly and unobtrusively. Their sensei's words promised something ominous.
"Fine, but don't you dare to just disappear. Otherwise, I'll hold it against you," the woman walked past them, making Stas wonder whether he saw a flicker of sympathy in her calm eyes.
"Crazy broad," Jun muttered, but notably, he did so very, very quietly.
'She called him brother. So she's one of those bastards? I wonder why warmasters haven't adopted Fierce Ishiro's tactics. If at least half of them "went through" the nearby villages and settlements, the Sumada could increase their numbers at once. Clearly, it's not that simple.'
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Jun immediately lost interest in his students and sat back down on the bench. A clap, and a new bottle of alcohol appeared from the spatial scroll.
Ordyntsev suppressed the urge to lick his lips at the sight of another manifestation of local rune art. Artifact makers could create special seals that allowed them to store objects in special spatial pockets.
These constructs were often drawn on scrolls, as this allowed many seals to be placed on the surface area, after which it could be rolled up.
In well-made seals, the weight of the objects was not felt at all.
Another cork whizzed by them, making the girl jump in fright when the projectile seemed to chip the floor under her feet.
Ordyntsev watched with somewhat unhealthy curiosity as the second bottle was quickly emptied with hollow gulps.
At that moment, the third team member chose to make an unfortunate appearance.
Stas carefully turned around, not to attract Master Jun's attention with sudden movements, and examined the "dead man."
Before them stood a nervously smiling lad gripping a not-so-long naginata. His hair was dark brown and cut short, and he had an ordinary, pleasant face.
Unlike the girl, his armor was mid-priced but sturdy, similar to what Stas himself was wearing.
"Master Jun, I apologize for being late!" The lad immediately bowed, assessing the situation. "I'm very sorry and promise that in the future, my behavior will not..."
Ding! Thud.
With the last sound, the lad's body silently fell face down onto the stone floor, his head split open, blood pooling on the ground.
The fragments of the bottle that Jun had thrown in one swift motion scattered across the hall.
"Disgusting, nauseating, and vile. And the Council, damn them to hell, suggests I take these freaks as students?" Jun spat noisily on the floor and despondently rested his head on his fist. "Where's the reaction? He didn't even try to dodge! They might as well tell me to fuck off, why make it so complicated?" This monologue was listened to in absolute silence by Ordyntsev and the girl, standing at attention.
"Fine," the sensei stood up and, approaching the body of his pupil, nudged his cheek with the sole of his boot. "Seems he's not dead. Follow me, you parody of warmasters. And don't forget to take this piece of shit with you; no need to leave it rotting here."
Stas picked up the unconscious body under his right arm, the girl grimaced but took the left, and then they hurried after the broadly striding Jun.
Passing the bench, the warrior easily picked up a heavy-looking solid steel club covered with diamond-shaped spikes.
Somehow, Ordyntsev was not surprised when their master kicked open the doors. Though, it's worth noting that he did it carefully enough to keep the doors intact.
"Who's going to tell me where these old stumps are meeting now?!" The roar from inside seemed a bit quieter. "They keep changing offices. I have questions about my team!"
"Warmaster Jun!" a tall, pole-like attendant hastened to the brute, who looked about to burst with fury. "Stop your savage act! You're not in your beloved dense forests now, so behave yourself properly. Follow me and, I beseech you by all the spirits, touch nothing! There's very valuable documentation here."
Surprisingly, Master Jun said and did nothing further until they reached the hall with the needed elders. Behind him, his pupils panted, dragging their unconscious comrade.
The elders' office was defined by three tables, behind which, logically, sat three elders.
"Jun-san, what a surprise. Your arrival is impossible not to hear," one of the old men's face twitched when Jun, without asking permission, loudly took a seat right in front of them.
"Silence is not my forte," Jun explained somewhat peacefully. "But that's all bullshit. What's this crap with my team? What is this assembly of cripples, I ask you?"
"First of all, by what right do you behave like this?" the second elder, an old woman, flared up but was stopped by a gesture from the third old man. He looked at Jun with an expressionless gaze and clearly understood how to handle him.
"What is it that you find unsatisfactory, Jun-san?"
"What's unsatisfactory? Everything! They're just meat. Not even people! They've just been weaned off the breast; what am I supposed to do with them on the frontlines?" The warmaster was very expressive in his outrage.
"Jun-san," the voice of the third elder didn't change at all. "You were given students with good potential. Shiro-kun is a healer who has not only mastered Healing Palm but also possesses medical skills that do not require using prana." The elder looked straight at Stas.
"And yet his prana reserves are so pitiful that I have to ask, is he even a healer, or did you just pick up a vagrant off the street and hand him a snake..."
"Mei from the Eiko family," interrupted the elder. "She's from the main branch and has shown excellent results since childhood. She's the daughter of an elder. As you wanted, a good volume of prana, which will only increase in the future."
"Miserable merchants," Jun spat directly on the floor. Ordyntsev noticed the old woman's temple vein pulsate. "I wouldn't be surprised if she spent more time with abacus than with her sword."
"And finally," the elder stared at the third student's hanging body in his teammates' arms. For the first time, the elder didn't immediately find the words. "Eiji Sumada. Mother from the captured Mizuno, father from the Sumada. Has an equal predisposition for both water and earth techniques. Good prana reserve..."
"What's the catch? It all sounds too good," the sensei cut in.
"Due to some problems in the clan, he was almost not taught techniques," the elder finally told the truth, chewing his lip.
"Useless," concluded Jun. "And with this zoo, I'm supposed to go to the front?"
"Jun-san," the second elder joined the conversation. "Whatever you may think of us, we're not planning to throw you straight into hell. The first missions should give you a chance to form a team, figure out their strengths and weaknesses..."
"Don't feed me crap," Jun advised, causing his interlocutor to choke on her own words.
If someone had looked at Ordyntsev at that moment, they could have noticed the faintest smile on his face, which, knowing the man, meant a Homeric laugh.
The earthling was almost physically enjoying watching his sensei trample all these local quirks, traditions, and politeness with dirty boots.
Seeing those puffed-up snobs squirm was like a very strong drug – he wanted more and more.
"No assignments until I figure them out at least a little. I need three months."
"This is Goro-sama's order. How dare you argue further?!" the old woman finally couldn't sit still. "If you don't comply immediately, you'll be considered a traitor!"
"Consider it done then," Jun's lips spread into a wolfish grin. "Just don't cry when these 'students' of yours die in their first battle. And believe me, every dog of the most rundown samurai will know that you are to blame for their deaths."
"You..."
"Just one month," the third elder said in a tone that was not up for discussion. "After that, you'll go on your first missions. Is that clear, Jun-san?"
"Scraps are better than nothing," Jun snorted, standing up. "I see you've taken supplies. Excellent, students, follow me."
It was becoming obvious that with a sensei like theirs, the life of their team would be anything but boring.
On the other hand, Master Jun was a fully-fledged supreme warmaster. That is, the elite of this world. It's always nice to have a supreme warmaster at your back, even if he is such an oddball.
*****
By the twenty-fifth floor, it was clear that carrying their teammate was very inconvenient. At least because Jun didn't think to slow down.
"Put him down here," Stas commanded. The Eiko family heiress gave him a hostile look but did as he said.
Stas had no intention of wasting his precious and limited supply of healing elixirs on Eiji. Their effectiveness was very weak anyway. As it turned out, the energy of magical beasts was much better at killing than healing.
So Stas tried to concentrate quickly and bring Eiji to his senses with Healing Palm.
The sensei was leaving, and Ordyntsev didn't want to test what would happen if they lost him.
He was also grateful to the girl for not abandoning them, even though she could have.
Finally, the hand flared up with green fire on just the third attempt.
Ordyntsev carefully placed his palm on the lad's temple, then tuned in to what he wanted to achieve. A small intervention was required, and he couldn't afford to mess up.
Eiji jerked with a sharp intake of breath and opened his eyes, then groaned and felt the swelling bump. Thankfully, the blood had already stopped flowing. It was enough that they had already made a mess on the bureaucrats' floors.
"What happened?" he bleated, but Ordyntsev was focused elsewhere. He briskly but firmly helped him up.
"Grab him." This was meant for the girl.
"Stop ordering me around, clanless," she snorted with disgust, but still grabbed Eiji's left arm.
With the help of the lad, albeit disoriented, things went faster, and they finally caught up to their sensei.
Ordyntsev pretended to look at the ground but kept a watchful eye on the teacher, so he noticed the slight approving smile after Jun glanced at their battered team.
That was something to think about.