There was something immensely liberating about for once, sharing his plans with someone. Lock hadn't done so fully, emitting several factors. However what he had told, despite the fact that he probably shouldn't have, had felt like a burden was being lifted off of his heart. A burden he hadn't even noticed he'd been carrying.
Oddly enough, he now felt a certain anticipation towards having Mia work for him, after she'd proven herself of course. Would he gain another confidante? Time would tell, as it did with all things.
He needed to be careful with the freeing feeling of releasing his secrets. Some information had to be hidden for a reason after all. Which was why he hadn't told his father about his immortality, naturally, nor had he told him about his real reasons for wanting to prevent the war. He simply said that that was what he was trying to do.
Arcturus seemed to have a very out of touch moral compass, but even he would likely balk at the idea of quite literally betraying one's own species for nothing more than a varied travelling experience.
Rather than just the emotional benefits he'd experienced with sharing for once, there were also more tangible ones.
For example the suggestion Arcturus had made in regards to the dirt Lock had on the Shields and their attempts to stir up a war with the beastmen. Which the entire fiasco with the rape Light Shield had committed all those months ago had been a prelude too.
While the rebellion would undoubtedly appreciate the gesture of receiving documents, which to be fair, could have been faked. They were very much considered to be an unreliable source. Anything they claimed about the nobles could be brushed off as propaganda, and nothing would likely change.
If however, the documents found themselves in the hands of the people who would soon find themselves with the power of deciding the outcome of the civil war that would probably occur. Like for example the army. Well, then things would get really interested.
The issue naturally once again being the validity of the information. One would need a high-ranking, well-respected member of the army to show the evidence and to rile up the men. However, no noble would be interested in quite literally stabbing his entire faction in the back, and peasants did not have the habit of rising very high in the military hierarchy. Some would undoubtedly, but those were already bought, and while it would at least be easier to turn those peasant-officers to his side, it would still be risky. Possible, no matter how slim, just as with the nobles, but risky.
This is where an interesting tidbit of information that Arcturus had dug up would come in handy. The prizes for the iron rank tournament had been shuffled around a bit. Now it was the second place who would receive an admission slip to the magic academy. What would the first place get? Lock chuckled. Well naturally, a spot in the newly founded military academy of the human empire.
A place that would take in your spare noble sons, and spit out hardened officers ready to command the glorious army.
The plan for the tournament was probably to turn the winner, who would most likely be a peasant, into a piece of pleasant propaganda. Winning a tournament, graduating from the academy, and being one of the higher-ranked members of the army afterwards to show that the entire structure was meritocratic, and not nepotist.
It was likely one of the many plans, after all the aristocratic faction of the kingdom had countless intelligent schemers all facing the same direction, if not necessarily agreeing on how they were supposed to get there.
However, destroying had always been easier than creating.
Regarding the plans of mice and men, Lock was neither.
His mindless wandering after having completed his morning training and thinking of all the things that could be, had brought him directly to where he needed to be.
Lock knocked on the door, putting on a worried expression, having taken off his helmet for this exact purpose. “Harald, we need to talk.”
-/-
Lock very slowly stepped backwards, sword raised in the air to deflect Harald's slug-like slash. It hadn't even been an hour and the boy already seemed exhausted. Sweat dripping from his brow, staining the green grass below, and arms quivering.
Stepping back, very conscious of how energized he was in comparison, Lock lowered his practice sword, signalling an end to the slow bout. He thanked himself for his foresight in going down the path of Endurance. Not only was it useful in almost all situations, it also felt incredible having so much vitality inside one's body.
“Give Kamin the ring.” Lock reminded his student, who quickly pulled it off of his practice sword, and threw it at Lemmings, who Lock quickly commanded to catch it. The golem gave the ring along to Kamin, who was sitting next to him, bleary eyed. In an odd turn of events Kamin had grown attached to Lemmings, likely due to the fact that he'd been ferrying her around for the entirety of yesterday.
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“I can't believe sparring at the speed of a slug was enough to exhaust you.” Lock heard Ino deride Harald in the background. By the thwack that resounded through the backyard the swordsman was feeling particularly eloquent in his responses today.
“Now, now, I don't think you have anything to say in regards to stamina.” Lock shouted backwards, scolding the two children. They sullenly parted, and Lock turned back to have his golem hand him a potion from the apothecary bag it was holding.
This, was the second advantage that being directly allied with Arcturus carried with itself. A permanent supply of whatever potions he asked for. While in the past he'd only had access to his father's stores of potions to be sold, he now had the man's full attention, being able to order whatever he wished. Only to a certain extent of course, Arcturus couldn't be overburdened or else he would stop making enough money to buy further ingredients. Regardless, even 50% of the man's resources were very useful to Lock, who, despite having ten levels in it, didn't really like Alchemy all that much. Too much time spent bending over a steaming set of instruments, too little time spent outside enjoying the fact that he was despite all odds, living his second life.
Lock gave the potion to his pupil, who swallowed it with a grimace. Thankfully he needed no explanation, as Arcturus had already provided one. Muscle recovery enhancement. While the training had been low intensity, the tournament was tomorrow, and thus it was better to tread on the safe side.
Talking about the tournament... “Ino, have you successfully registered yourself?” He asked the boy, who just came back a few minutes ago.
The wizard nodded crisply. “As an iron rank adventurer, as Harald's party member and as a participant of the tournament. However the bureaucrat responsible for admitting me gave me a bit of an odd look once I told him my last name.”
Likely because the nobles from within the city had been discouraged to participate due to this being a set-up for a publicity stunt. However Trydan's were, as much of an oxymoron as it was, a noble family deeply uninterested in politics.
He simply gave the boy a nod, explaining nothing. The plan was to let Harald win if they met in the finals anyway, so I didn't matter that much anyway.
“Were there many people getting classed in at the adventurers guild today?” He asked instead, at which Ino slowly shook his head.
“I've never been here before, so I'm not quite sure, but I don't think so. There was only one person in front of me in line to register. Maybe she was a person of interest, she seemed pretty strong to be honest, but came out with an iron pendant just like me.” Ino said, pulling an iron dog tag out of his shirt and showing it to Lock. The metal glimmered in the sunlight and he had to hold back a laugh at the identification inscribed upon it. [8DIX24/7].
“Can you describe her to me.” Lock managed to choke out through some coughs. Ino didn't seem to notice anything, simply putting on a facial expression that suggested he was trying to remember.
“Red hair put up in a ponytail, reminded me of a pineapple actually, dressed like some sort of Rogue. Can't tell you much to be honest.” Ino said honestly, although he was blushing a bit so he'd likely noticed some other attributes but was too embarrassed to share them. Lock furrowed his brows.
Pineapple?
The mention of the fruit tickled something in his memory, but he ignored it. It was probably unimportant.
“Her registering during this exact time period isn't very suspicious. You did the same thing after all. I guess you should keep an eye on her if you really think she's strong enough to be a bother.” He said nonchalantly.
Ino nodded before going to sit by his sister, striking up a conversation.
Lock was a bit bothered that the boy hadn't gone to put in some last minute training, but considering that he hadn't even seen him fight yet, this was the smallest of his issues.
He just hoped that his future brother-in-law wasn't being arrogant in his claim that he could win the tournament if he wanted too. Confidence and arrogance were very hard to distinguish until one saw the person in action after all.
However, he was a magic user, likely the only one who was about to enter the tournament, that should grant him a large enough advantage to emerge victorious.
And, well, considering how stocked up they were on potions, it would be embarrassing if they didn't win. It was odd that potions weren't banned, but that was likely because of the assumption that no one of the iron-rank could actually afford anything useful.
-/-
“What do you mean potions were banned.” Lock said indignantly later that day once Ino had sheepishly approached him with a piece of information he'd forgotten to inform him of, namely that potions were not allowed anymore. The boy expressed the opinion that was likely done due to the heightened value of the prize
Lock agreed, but was still a bit peeved, seeing however as they were eating dinner, a dinner that he had cooked however, he calmed down. One shouldn't mix anger with a meal.
“Oh don't worry about that, the potions I gave you should be fairly hard to detect.” Arcturus suddenly piped up from where he was ravenously devouring his steak, ignoring completely the pickled asparagus and rice.
Sighing Lock determined that the potions were apparently a last resort, used only in the case that they would lose if they didn't use them.
“Whatever, I have other ways to cheat.” He grumbled, gently perforating a piece of meat and leading it to his mouth.
“You didn't mention any cheating before.” Harald suddenly said accusingly, causing Lock to stare at him as if he were an idiot.
“Yeah, because you weren't going to be involved. I wouldn't trust you to do it competently anyway.” He replied, seeing conflicting emotions emerge on his pupil's face.
He was as easy to read as a picture book, which would make him the perfect infiltrator into the ranks of the army. Something the boy had agreed to do out of the conviction that he could change the force from within if he rose up high enough in rank. Pragmatic in knowing that one required status and power to change anything, naïve in thinking that the army was an apparatus that was created with no blocks towards soldiers who got too big for their breeches.
Lock corrected himself mentally, the fact that Harald was naïve, but not completely was what would make him the perfect infiltrator. Whatever process the army used to weed out people aiming to bring upon unrest from the very beginning, would simply ignore him due to the presence of naïve idealism, but admit him due to the presence of a certain pragmatism required for the position of officer.
His perceived harmlessness would also be the reason why he would be allowed to rise within the ranks. After all, anybody thinking that a corrupt structure made to corrupt could be changed from within was to stupid to do any damage.
It was like throwing yourself in pit of shit to clean it from within.
Thankfully Lock would be there to help, or Harald would turn into just another old soldier disillusioned with humanity, looking forward to retirement, and in the end, having achieved nothing.
With Lock at his side he would hopefully encompass only the first two traits.
A clinging on the table brought Lock out of his musings, Ino had deposited shot-glasses on the table while he was distracted and was filling them up with what looked like sake, but Lock knew was actually something more resembling Everclear.
He smirked and raised his glass with the others once everyone had one, they met together in the middle of the table, and Lock being the unanimous leader of this whole debacle spoke a toast.
“To the arena!”