After hearing about the upcoming field trip, Jack let Thomas do some running and stake-climbing to assess his stamina. As for Agos, Jack had been looking at him for five minutes straight without saying a word.
“Jack,” Agos called. “You’re weird, you know that?”
Agos scratched his short hair as if he had just done something guilty.
“You have a completely self-regulating mana circulation system,” Jack said, “and a belly to store all those mana.”
Both were abilities that many people would die for. Jack would be even more fascinated if he could observe and train Agos the same way he had done with all of his previous friends and companions.
“What’s that? I hope it doesn’t stop me from eating?”
Jack helplessly nodded.
“The fact that mana is going up from your stomach to your mouth when you’re exhausted, I’m guessing it’s because they have been stored through eating.”
“Wow, that sounds awesome.”
Agos clenched his hands and raised them in excitement.
“Then, I won’t have to practice like that crazy hyperactive Thomas, right?”
“Who said so?” Jack said. “You can continue eating, but you still have to practice.”
“What? Why… Then… But…”
Agos swung his hands around in objection but didn’t know how to put it into words.
Jack thought about Agos’ condition a little deeper. The everyday food contained a small amount of mana. A normal person wouldn’t be able to completely absorb them, as most of the mana will be ejected through the digestive system. Therefore, only with a sufficient amount could one feel the effect, such as when Jack was drinking the principal’s crystal tea. Even so, Jack could only manage to hold on to half of it simply because his body hadn’t been innovated to absorb mana with maximum efficiency.
Meanwhile, Agos’ body handled this problem by simply storing the mana in his belly fat instead of ejecting them. Every time exhaustion came, mana would follow the body's natural fat-burning process to resupply Agos.
This ability opened up tremendous possibilities for Agos: a warrior with an infinite amount of mana supply. It would be a terrible idea to prolong the battle with him. Jack couldn’t wait to see Agos’ future. But in the meantime, there still had to be practice to maintain his weight, stamina, and, if possible, to actively control his ability instead of just letting his body passively do it.
Let's just hope we don’t have to do this the sumo way, Jack thought.
Seeing how Agos was afraid of practicing again, Jack shook his head.
“You can take a break, Agos.”
Agos rejoiced, ran for the grass field Jack had laid earlier, and put his back on it. It didn’t take long for the snoring to begin.
As for Thomas, he had been running and climbing for half an hour before finally catching a breath.
Jack was really impressed with Thomas’ endurance, to the point of thinking he could be the next prodigious successor to fully utilize Xerath’s training method.
“Is Fatino sleeping again?” Thomas asked as he approached Jack.
“He has his own training method. You, Thomas, what do you want?”
Jack and Thomas were equal in height, but when they came face to face, Thomas felt a sudden pressure. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the difference in their family background or it was from Jack himself, though he doubted the latter.
“I want the Horvath family to become stronger.”
“Stronger than the Harper?” Jack asked.
Thomas startled as he instinctively took a step back, worrying his answer might have upset Jack. The image of Patrick beating up his subordinates for displeasing him flashed through Thomas’ mind.
Jack raised his hand up as Thomas cowered. He was expecting a slap or a punch in the stomach, but all he got was a sigh of disappointment.
“You should go for something higher, you know?”
Higher? Thomas froze, not sure how to answer that.
Jack then slipped his way to the edge of the training field. His gaze fell on the stakes, thinking about a new practice approach for Agos.
“Come here, Thomas.”
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Thomas listened and walked to Jack’s side.
Jack was still staring at the stakes.
“I will show you how to practice,” Jack said, “not because you choose to depend on the Harper, but because of your potential. Do you know why I want you to dream higher?”
Thomas shook his head.
“Because if you were to be bounded by your background, we would never become friends.”
Thomas frowned, failing to see Jack’s point. But by the expression on Jack’s face, he knew that was something he should remember and figure out himself.
Jack walked toward the two starting stakes, jumped on them, and kept his balance. His arms and legs formed many different postures.
“This is the Xerath method. From now on, you will practice it with me.”
“Today, I will show you how a Maester fights.”
Julia announced to the class as the lesson began. She walked into the room with three boxes, carried by a young teaching assistant.
Her eyes fell on Jack, who was sitting in the front row with two other dull kids. Thomas and Agos really didn’t want to sit here, but seeing Jack's nonchalant attitude, they followed suit.
Julia started the class without any comments.
“According to my lecture, can you find out the weakness of Maester compared to other factions?”
“Lacking flexibility,” a student answered.
“Physically weak.”
“Damage output is too manageable,” Jack said.
“Ohh?” Julia and the whole class stared at Jack.
This was the first time he had answered a class question ever since his days in the junior class. More often than not, he would choose to remain silent and some teachers, wishing to keep a friendly relation with the Harper, turned a blind eye to it.
The assistant, with his pair of thick glasses, looked at Jack more closely, smiling at the student who actually understood his faction. He expected a pleasant response from Julia, but instead, she seemed rather annoyed.
“Why do you think so, Jack?”
“It’s combat we’re talking about,” Jack said, “and Maester’s ultimate weapon is poison. Nobody will stand still for a Maester to toss a poison vial at them. They will either keep their distance or close the gap quickly, then deliver a decisive blow. The Maester, with the aforementioned bad qualities, will be completely useless...”
“A Maester will…”
“...But of course,” Jack didn’t stop, “If Maester could take advantage of long-range weaponry like throwing knives, crossbows,... their weakness can be somewhat mitigated. However, that comes with other problems, such as the concentration of the poison, how to make the poison take effect as fast as possible before the opponent gets a chance to use the antidote, or, like the warriors usually do, blocking their senses and cutting off blood circulation of the infected parts. These are the problems I would like to ask you too, miss Julia.”
Julia gritted her teeth. She really wanted to overwhelm this backdoor student for his attitude the day before, but now, he was the one to ask the critical question of today’s lecture.
Ignoring Jack’s mischievous eyes, Julia signaled her assistant.
He quickly put the boxes on the ground. Afterward, he took out a wooden rod and placed it in front of the boxes. With a press on the small button on the middle of the rod, it stretched from one side of the room to the other. A transparent curtain dropped down from the slit on the rod, creating a barrier to protect the student from any unwanted accident.
“I will do a little experiment on the effectiveness of poison on our three little fellows here.”
The assistant on the other side of the curtain opened the outer lid of the box. Inside were cages containing three little monsters with the shape of rats, their eyes dark red and their claws long and sharp. The creatures made ear shrilling screeching sounds; their sharp teeth lunged forward to bite the iron bars.
“Grim mouse,” Thomas told Jack.
“They’re pretty weak,” Agos continued, “but annoying as hell. They drink blood and reproduce like rats. They are usually eliminated before the harvest because their wastes also have a corrosive attribute.”
Jack nodded at the explanation.
“As you, or at least some of you, have already known, the best way to deal with the Grim Mouse is to use anesthetics. Their resistance is quite weak and it will only take a small amount to make these pesky creatures unconscious with their belly flipped up.”
Julia took out a small bag pouch from her pocket. She untied the string, grabbed a bit of pink dust, and spread it above one of the cages.
“But every time we want to eliminate Grim Mouse,” Julia continued, “the whole town has to be evacuated for half a day to allow the Maester to use the anesthesia I’m currently holding to put them to sleep. The time for the poison to take effect is quite considerable. Now let us see how long it will take for our little mouse to fall asleep.”
The students focused on the cage of the poisoned mouse. Unlike their expectation, it wasn't until Agos almost fell asleep that the screeching started to go down and the creature went unconscious. Seeing that, the other two started screeching even louder.
Ignoring the sounds, Julia turned back to the class and asked.
“How long?”
“Around ten minutes, miss!” the miserable kid Jack encountered yesterday answered.
“Ten minutes, miss,” another one said.
Some other answers continued, but Julia still hadn’t signaled them to stop. She kept her eyes on a student, who was still staring at the mouse, Jack.
After a while, Jack spoke up.
“Eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds,”
“Trying to make a difference, Jack?” Patrick said from the right corner of the class. “Everybody could tell it was ten minutes.”
Jack didn’t respond because he knew Julia would.
Julia and her assistants had to raise their eyebrows before Jack’s answer, for he was the only one who was correct. The complete state of unconsciousness couldn’t be told through appearance but rather the mana fluctuation around the creature. As monsters were born from mana, they always maintained a natural mana cycle. Only when this cycle was disrupted could one tell that the monster had lost control of itself or fainted, something that a nine-year-old student would have a hard time sensing.
This kid just made my lectures go out of hand, Julia thought, clenching her fist.
“Making a difference?” Julia opened her eyes wide toward Patrick, her hand pointing at the Grim Mouse. “In a confrontation, if you yourself couldn’t tell how long it takes to knock down an opponent, that tiny moment of consciousness will be your downfall. Grim mouses are extremely cunning. Even after ten minutes, they still have the presence of mind to jump at you and bite off your neck. Therefore, the safety threshold will always be eleven to twelve minutes. Do you understand?”
The whole class nodded, except for Patrick, who was grumpily looking at Jack, who in turn was paying no attention to him.