Chapter 1 – Ranking

“May your waters wet our throats, and your lands silence our stomachs. May your mana be our guide, shielding us from the evil of the dreadful ones. The same way I gave life to my only child, you shall breathe life in all of us. Your name shall be Brady.”

– Memorial of James Teen, Founder

Speaking about speciality, the town of Brady had none of it, overshadowed by the bordering splendour of Mount Caligor.

The local townsfolks were aware of this, yet discouraged were not. While some argued that the last couple of years weren’t for the best, they had no reason for complaints. And today, they had an extra reason to feel motivated.

The first day of spring had arrived, a clear sky with a gleaming sun.

The hard working adults were busy with their daily routines while children chased each other on the stone paved streets. The elderly spied from their stone build houses, gossiping about the younger generations. Several magi crowded the central market, with that occasional fight at the queues.  

In a much quieter environment, around the southern border, an old man sat meditating in his garden. He wore neat clothes, his beard trimmed with that touch of elegance. He seemed a lifeless person as if he was part of nature, and nature a part of him.

At one point, his face flashed to life. He inspected his surroundings, thinking that something was amiss. Yet, everything around him seemed normal. He quickly dismissed his fears as a by-product of his imagination.

He tried to regain focus, yet his mind wouldn’t let him. The more he struggled to suppress his thoughts, the more cropped up. He was about to give up when he sensed a presence.

He raised his head, then he sighed.

Something descended with sonic speed. It landed not that far off from him, blowing up a whirling cloud of dust, even alerting the nearby neighbourhoods.

It didn’t take long for the cloud to wane down, revealing a man with his head stuck to the ground. He had a massive belly and only wore a bright pink mankini, his shaved butt shining splendidly in the sunlight.

Despite the impact, his back appeared straight and unharmed.

After a while, he used some sort of technique, pulling himself out. He did a couple of acrobatic flips before landing on his foot, uttering a soft moan.

The weird man then snickered, his belly jumping with every laugh. He walked towards the old man, then extended his right hand upwards, smoothly catching a falling plastic bag packed with women underwear, which he then let drop.

“How many years has it been, my favourite dotard?!”

The old man shut his eyes and tightened his jaws. “You again…?”

The weird man ignored him. He searched for a comfortable looking spot and sat down, then took out a woman’s bra and started sniffing it.

“I was passing by and I thought… why not pay a visit to my favourite old fart? For old time’s sake, if anything.”

He stood silent, waiting for the old man to speak. After some time, he gave up and continued.

“Hey Robert… my network of perverted scouts… heard about… some kind of selection exercise that the council is organising, and that kid… they might—”

The sound of electric sparks interrupted the weird man’s speech. The old man’s body surrounded itself by a flashing yellow aura, shuddering like it was about to explode.

The weird man exhaled, knowing that this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

He brought himself up and said, “You never change, do you?! Born a weirdo, die a weirdo!”

He then elegantly threw the bra, which landed over the old man’s face.

“Learn from me, Robert! Learn how to enjoy every moment of your life! The few years you have left anyways…”

He saluted him with a wink, then grabbed his precious bag and shoot himself upwards, vanishing as fast as he had come.

 *     *     *    

Located to the north-west of the town, was the Magus Academy of Brady. It wasn’t what people would call a fantastic piece of architecture. However, it was still one of the most impressive buildings in the town. Perhaps, even more impressive, was the large flagpole suspended by the middle tower, waving the untouchable crest of the Grahams, the Imperial Family of the Human Empire.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Being the only academy of the town, prospective magi had no choice but to attend there, like it or not, unless they had a fortune and went to study abroad instead. Only a handful of these would eventually end up graduating, with none prominent enough to ever be noticed by the higher echelons of the Empire. This poor result often resulted in a happy go lucky attitude among most students.

However, today the atmosphere was a tad heavier than usual.

Two men were walking together along a passage, decorated with human sized statues and several abstract paintings. The man in front trod ahead, busy writing on his notebook. The other trailed after him, admiring the clothes of the man in front of him while taking precautions not to get caught.

“Remarkable Jason, I’m impressed,” said the man in front while scribing.

Jason replied with a smile, rubbing his hands behind his back. 

The man in front walked around some more, then he closed his notebook and started heading towards the exit.

“Already leaving my Lord?!” Jason asked. “You haven’t even drink or eat anything —”

“I’m fine. My job here is done.”

“Pardon me sir, but you missed a class over there.”

The Lord paused to check. “Oh, I haven’t noticed myself!”

Jason expressed a broad smile, and with haste, he showed the way for the final classroom.

When the students, which numbered around 50, noticed them, they stood up and bowed along with their professor. She was old, wearing large round glasses, thick as goggles.

The Lord did a quick yet deep inspection of the class, then he fixed his penetrating gaze on Jason.

Jason’s heart skipped a heartbeat. He turned towards the professor and made a signal with his head. The professor stared back at him dumbfounded. Luckily for her, she noticed what was wrong shortly after.

“Max, please show some courtesy to your seniors!”

On the bottom left row, a young magus sat still, staring towards the middle of the class. Everyone fixed their eyes on him, waiting for him to stand up.

But he didn’t.

Jason’s heart skipped a couple of heartbeats and sweats appeared on his forehead. However, he got back to his senses and kept his cool. He was a man of experience; he had dealt with troublemakers for as long as he remembered, and a simple brat like this would never fool him.

He straightened his chest, emitting an aura of arrogance and superiority. Then, with a calm yet intimidating voice, asked, “What do you think you are—”

The Lord placed his palm in front of Jason’s face, signalling with his head that Jason’s approach was wrong.

The Lord moved a few steps towards Max, then began enchanting a spell. An object on Max’s desk began vibrating, rising upwards. It looked like a small orb of mana, violet in colour.

It slowly increased in luminosity, becoming bright as the sun. It then exploded with a powerful blast.

Max’s image faded away soon after.

Shivers ran through the spine of everyone present, their mouths wide open, excluding Jason, who was now on the verge of crying, and the Lord, who didn’t seem amused at all.

“An orb of projection, a rare item that allows you to create a copy of your image and project it for several hours,” The Lord said.

“Usually it is used as a military decoy, but in this case” – he turned to face both Jason and the Professor – “it was used to make a fool out of you two!”

Jason’s mind was thrown into disarray, countless thoughts of regrets flooding his mind. Why did he insist to show him this last class? How can the vice-president afford to lose so much face in front all these people?

“Outrageous! This is a serious violation of the academic security regulations!” The Lord shouted before barging out.

“Ranking D negative!”

Jason remained silent and stared at the professor, like a child in need of his mother’s comfort, then rushed after The Lord.

*     *     *    

Outside of the academy, two young magi were resting near Lake Asefora. One of them had brown hair, styling a red backpack and wearing a wide belt around his waist. Both items were storing several scrolls of different colours.

Not far away, a blonde one was resting on the grass, busy munching on a gum.

“There is no way you can hide that large body of yours behind that rock,” said the blonde one laughing.

“I have a bad feeling about this Max! We are not supposed to be here! What if people notice us? What if Jason sees us?!”

“Just chill, you pussy. Your constant worrying will only suck your life away.”

“Wow, how can you stay so cool?! Damn it!”

“If you don’t like it you can always go back home, nobody is keeping you here Richard” – his voice turned funny – “not like those idiots would ever notice—”

Suddenly, a flash of light descended from the sky, shattering the rock next to Richard into fine dust.

Richard unleashed his full vocal power, wetting himself.

Standing before him was a beauty in her 30s, her hair bright orange, a curvy figure with terrific legs, her magical robe exposing her cleavage quite well.

However, her expression was that of the demon reincarnate.

“D Negative?!” She yelled, punching Richard’s sorry ass and sending him flying high up in the sky, followed by a rain of scrolls.

“There is no way that I, the president, will ever accept this!!”

She then fixed her predatory gaze at the fleeing Max.

“As if I will let you escape!” She hurled herself with impressive speed, arriving before Max in an instant.

Max panicked, he placed his palms together and gathered all the white mana he could master, then fired a blast of wind energy.

She reached out her hand, nullifying the blast with a simple touch.

“How foolish,” she said, grabbing his head and smashing him to the ground. She expressed a pernicious smile, fantasising about the horrors she was about to commit.

Then she heard the sounds of approaching footsteps.

She turned around to look and noticed a man walking close by. He wore clothes made of fur, his face covered with scars. He had a severed head of a double-faced orc attached to his belt, which stained the ground with droplets of green blood.

She bowed towards him, keeping Max’s head squeezed into the dirt. She stayed silent and pondered; this man must be the leader of a powerful city, and the fact he walked alone without any guards must mean he is even more formidable than he looks. She wondered if the City Leaders were gathering for a summoning.

The man passed by the duo, continuing on his way as if they didn’t even exist. The President remained still until she was sure that the man was gone for good. It was then that she realised –snapping out of her distraction– that she was squeezing something soft.

Under her palm, there was a cute royal skunk.

“What trick is this!?” She cried.

Before she could do anything, the poor skunk sprayed its liquid on her face. And out of the known species, the royal skunk’s scent was the worst.

Meanwhile, deep in the nearby grasslands, Max paused and rested his arm against a trunk, a spray of white smoke emerging from his mouth.

Then, the miserable shriek of a woman was heard; the birds flew, creatures hid, the flowers shut their petals, and Max ran laughing towards his grandpa’s house.

At least for today, he had escaped.