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Of Death and Politics
The Weight of Words

The Weight of Words

Chapter 19: The Weight of Words

The air in the lecture hall felt different from any other class Robert had attended. As students gathered, their voices mingled in a symphony of chatter and laughter, but to Robert, it felt like a chaotic mess. This wasn’t like Magic Circle Theory or Summoning Practice. No, this was Rhetoric—a subject that demanded engagement, presence, and interaction with others. Just being here made his skin prickle with unease.

Robert took his usual seat near the middle of the hall, keeping his gaze low and his posture rigid. He hated this feeling, the way every eye seemed to linger on him a little longer than necessary, as if they were sizing him up, judging his every move. ‘Why did I choose this subject again?’ he wondered, his mind racing through a dozen reasons.

Then, he reminded himself. Psychic Authority—the core magic of House Rest and a requirement for all Ducal and Royal heirs. There were aspects of rhetoric that directly tied into influencing the minds of others, enhancing his ability to project authority and command obedience. This wasn’t just about learning to speak well; it was about understanding how to shape and control the thoughts of those around him. And that… that was something he needed.

Still, it didn’t make the class any less uncomfortable. Robert could feel his heartbeat quickening as more students filed in, their casual conversations filling the room with a background noise that seemed to press in on him from all sides. He shifted in his seat, glancing furtively around the hall. A few familiar faces from House Cadeyrn caught his eye, but he avoided making direct contact, his gaze darting back to his notes.

Professor Veronica Delys entered the hall with her usual energy, sweeping down the aisle like a force of nature. Robert watched her with a mix of admiration and trepidation. There was no denying her presence—the way she seemed to command the attention of every student with just a glance. She was exactly the kind of person who thrived in this environment, someone who could wield words as effectively as any spell.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Professor Delys greeted, her voice ringing out clearly above the murmurs. “Today, we’ll be discussing the art of persuasion. Rhetoric is not merely about speaking eloquently; it is about wielding influence. Whether in political debate or magical combat, the ability to sway your opponent can be more powerful than any spell.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the room, and Robert couldn’t help but feel exposed under her scrutiny. He shifted again, feeling the weight of the other students’ presence pressing in on him. This was a people-focused class, one where interaction and participation were expected. And for someone like him—someone who found social situations draining and perplexing—it was a struggle just to sit through it.

“You’ll find that understanding the principles of persuasion also ties directly into the School of Psychic Authority,” Professor Delys continued, her words instantly snapping Robert’s attention back to her. “Being able to influence others’ thoughts and emotions is a powerful tool, one that can turn the tide of battle or sway a crucial vote in the Sejm.”

Robert’s grip tightened around his quill. That’s why I’m here, he reminded himself. He wasn’t interested in debates or speeches, but the application of rhetoric to Psychic Authority? That was something he could use. If he could learn to better project his will, to compel others through subtle influence rather than brute force, it would give him an edge—a way to navigate the complexities of the political and social spheres without resorting to direct confrontation.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Now,” Professor Delys said, her gaze locking onto Robert with unsettling precision, “Rest, would you mind coming up to the front?”

Robert froze. For a moment, it felt as though the entire room had tilted, every eye suddenly trained on him. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt the familiar wave of discomfort rising like a tidal wave.

‘Why me?’ he thought frantically. He glanced around, but there was no escape. He had to go up—had to face the class and speak.

Slowly, he stood, his movements stiff and awkward. He could feel his classmates’ eyes following him as he made his way to the front of the room, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silence. His skin prickled with unease, his throat tight as he stopped beside Professor Delys.

“Now, Rest,” she said gently, her tone softer but still firm. “I want you to give a short argument—anything you choose. Focus on projecting your thoughts clearly, and remember to use your authority as a mage to reinforce your words. Imagine that you’re using Psychic Authority, but without the spell. Let your presence shape the room.”

Robert swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He cast a quick glance at his classmates. They were all watching him—waiting, expecting. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He couldn’t back down now. This was what he needed to learn. This was the point of the class.

“I…” His voice faltered slightly, and he forced himself to look up, meeting Professor Delys’s gaze. “I believe that… the use of summoning magic… requires not only control but… a deeper understanding of… the entity’s nature.”

He winced inwardly. The words felt stilted, unnatural. He could summon and control skeletal warriors with ease, but standing here, speaking to a roomful of people—this was a different kind of challenge entirely.

Professor Delys watched him patiently, her expression encouraging. “Go on,” she urged quietly. “Don’t think about the words. Feel the message you want to convey.”

Robert nodded slowly, drawing in another deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the noise and pressure of the room fade away. He thought about the essence of what he was trying to say—the way summoning required not just technical skill but an understanding of the summoned entity’s will, its nature, its autonomy. He focused on that feeling, that certainty, and let it flow through him.

“When you summon a being,” he began again, his voice firmer this time, “you’re not just bringing forth a tool or a weapon. You’re calling forth a life—a presence that has its own will and power. To truly control a summon, you must understand its nature. You must project your authority, not just through magic, but through your presence… your conviction.”

The room was silent, the students’ attention focused solely on him. Robert felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. The words were coming more easily now, flowing with a clarity that surprised even him.

“That is what makes Psychic Authority so effective in battle,” he continued, his gaze steady. “It’s not just a spell—it’s an extension of your will, a projection of your thoughts and emotions. If you can master that… if you can wield that kind of power with precision… you can command not just your summons, but the very battlefield itself.”

He paused, the silence in the room almost palpable. For a moment, he felt a flicker of pride—a small spark of satisfaction that he had managed to express himself, to convey his thoughts clearly and effectively.

Professor Delys nodded, her eyes bright with approval. “Well done, Rest. You spoke with conviction, and you managed to project your authority even without using magic. That’s exactly what I want you all to focus on—how to use your presence and your words to influence others.”

She turned to the class, gesturing for their attention. “Now, I want you to think about what Rest did. He began with uncertainty, but as he connected with his message, he became more confident. This is the key—finding the core of your argument and letting it guide your words.”

Robert let out a slow breath, relief washing over him as he made his way back to his seat. His heart was still racing, but there was a sense of accomplishment beneath the anxiety. He had done it—spoken in front of the class, shared his thoughts without stumbling or faltering.

He sank into his seat, his hands trembling slightly as he picked up his quill again. He had a long way to go, but this was a start. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to navigate this maze of words and influence—just as he did with magic.

As the class continued, Robert listened more intently than ever, his mind absorbing every lesson, every technique. This wasn’t just about rhetoric anymore. It was about mastering himself—his presence, his words, and ultimately, his magic. And that was a challenge he was determined to meet head-on.

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