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Weatherologist in a World of Magic
Screw your Imperial order!

Screw your Imperial order!

It had been a few weeks since Ethan celebrated his 12th birthday. Despite the festive atmosphere, each passing day brought increasing anxiety and stress to his parents. They were well aware that the arrival of imperial soldiers was imminent, and their hearts ached at the thought of their beloved son being taken away and exposed to countless dangers. Ethan could hear his mother sobbing in her chamber at night, clearly the most affected by this harsh reality.

Surprisingly, Ethan himself was unaffected by this predicament. In fact, he eagerly anticipated the soldiers' arrival. For the past six years, he had tirelessly devoted himself to mastering the basic art of magic, and now it was finally time to reveal this secret to his parents. Keeping such crucial information hidden had been eating away at his soul. He had never been one to withhold life-changing news from his loved ones, but he didn't want to boast about his pursuits until he had tangible results.

On the seventh day following his birthday, in a relatively calm atmosphere, the long-awaited but unwelcome guests finally arrived.

*Knock, knock*

*Creak*

The sudden and forceful pounding on the door immediately caught their attention. Upon opening the door, they were confronted by the sight of four robust individuals. Each dressed in impeccable military attire. With synchronized steps and a rhythmic cadence, they entered the inn, exuding an air of disciplined precision. Their boots struck the floor in perfect unison, creating a resounding echo that filled the room. The men's posture was erect, their shoulders squared, and their movements calculated, showcasing a formidable presence that demanded respect.

The four men came to a sudden stop, arranging themselves in a diamond-shaped formation. One man stood at the back, while two occupied each corner on both the right and left sides. A single figure stepped forward, positioned at the front of the formation. This individual retrieved a piece of paper and began to speak out loud.

"Ethan Hartfield! In accordance with the mandate of the imperial military service, which stipulates that all able-bodied men aged 12 must serve in the armed forces of the imperial kingdom. Bid your goodbye to your family, as we will be departing this instance!"

'Finally! It took you an eternity.' Ethan thought to himself.

"N-No! P-Please... It's far too soon! My baby just celebrated his 12th birthday a week ago. Give us more time to cherish our moments with him," Ethan's mother pleaded, her voice trembling. Ethan turned around and found his mother on the ground, her body hunched in despair. She cried and begged the soldiers, desperately hoping they wouldn't take him away.

Witnessing his mother's sudden breakdown stirred a painful ache in Ethan's heart. It brought back memories of a haunting scene he had witnessed as an infant—the heartbreaking sight of a grieving mother staring at her son's lifeless body inside a cart from the soldier's expedition.

His father stepped forward, approaching the soldier in an attempt to negotiate and find some room for flexibility. He acknowledged the authority of the imperial order and knew he couldn't prevent them from taking their son away, but he still made an effort to delay the inevitable.

"Sir, we humbly request your leniency," he pleaded. "Requiring our son to depart immediately is a harsh measure. Please grant us some time to absorb this news and spend a little more time with him before he is taken away."

The soldier whom Ethan's father had approached swiftly responded with a tone filled with anger, "Are you suggesting that the monsters threatening the kingdom and nearby settlement will patiently wait? Each soldier is crucial for the survival of our entire race! Having four of us dispatched for such a trivial matter could result in the loss of hundreds, if not thousands, of human lives! Step aside! Men's!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Escort the child away!"

"Please! Don't take him away from us!" Pleaded his mother.

At that moment, Ethan had grown weary of the unnecessary display of sorrow and drama. Speaking with a decisive and authoritative tone, he declared, "I desire to undertake the Academy's recruitment trial!"

The three soldiers who were approaching Ethan abruptly stopped in their tracks, their faces reflecting surprise. Ethan's father, positioned beside the fourth soldier, and his mother, still on the floor, gazed at him with confusion, unable to comprehend his request.

"Damn it! I knew it! Those peasants can't seem to stop causing problems, can they?" a voice resounded from outside the Inn.

Creak

"Sir!"x4

"Rest."

A man in his late thirties or early forties strode into the room. Observing the soldier's demeanor upon entering, Ethan deduced that he held a position of authority. The man possessed a formidable presence, adorned with a black eyepatch over his right eye and a prominent scar stretching from his mouth to his neck. His appearance wasn't unattractive; rather, it conveyed the aura of a battle-hardened and trusted soldier who had faced countless conflicts.

"There's always that one fool who thinks they can escape their duties, always trying to crawl up the nobles' coattails." remarked the man with disdain.

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Ethan couldn't comprehend why the man would utter such words, and a hint of frustration crept onto his face.

"Listen, kid, I don't know where you got the idea of participating in the academy's recruitment trial, but it would be wise for you to give up on it. All you'll do is jeopardize your entire family. What's the point? A few days of relief?" the man advised.

"I don't understand. How would my desire to take the trial harm my family?" Ethan questioned, perplexed.

"Huh? Are you serious right now? Hahaha! This is getting more amusing by the second." the man chuckled.

Silence hung in the air as Ethan mulled over the man's words.

"Look, kid, only nobles and those from esteemed families are permitted to attend the academy. Yes, there's a rule that allows anyone to take the trial, but it's widely known that peasants have no chance of being accepted due to their lack of knowledge compared to noble children. Do you even know how to manifest magic? Do you even have control over your mana? And more importantly, do you know what happens to a peasant who fails the trial?" the man asked, his tone grave.

"What happens?" Ethan replied quietly.

"Their entire family gets executed, and the peasant child is condemned to a lifetime on the battlefield, fighting against monsters. By requesting the trial, it's as if you're defying the imperial kingdom, saying, 'To hell with your imperial order, I'll act for my own gain.'" the man explained.

With every word the man spoke, Ethan's anger grew. Each trigger word he used - 'running away,' 'noble's coattail,' 'peasant,' 'executed,' 'defiance,' 'imperial order,' 'my own gain' - grated on Ethan's nerves.

Ethan's gaze dropped to the ground, his previous self-assurance wavering. The man's words planted seeds of doubt in his mind. 'What if I fail? My parents wouldn't be safe.... I'm uncertain if my knowledge of magic is sufficient to pass the trial... Those nobles had mentors guiding them, while I had to navigate my own path... I have no benchmark to measure my abilities against. Would I be considered mediocre, at best, compared to those privileged noble children?"

Gradually, his confidence began to wane, and he felt himself on the brink of surrender. However, in that moment, a sudden warmth enveloped his head. Looking up, he saw his father smiling at him, his hand gently resting on Ethan's head.

"We believe in you, son. We may not understand what's going on, but we know there's nothing you can't accomplish." his father reassured him.

At that very instant, all worries dissipated, and Ethan's confidence surged to new heights.

"Father, Mother... Thank you," he expressed gratefully.

Thoughts raced through his mind, 'Screw you, bastards! Am I not doing the same as those noble hypocrites? Aren't they also shirking their responsibilities? Who gave them the right to be exempt from the imperial orders? Shouldn't those with higher authority and power be the ones to take responsibility, not those who work for them? The ones who toil to fill their bellies with harvested crops, tend to their livestock, build their homes, and pay their taxes?'

Ethan approached the soldier who had berated his decision, meeting his gaze directly, devoid of fear or hesitation. With unwavering determination, he declared, "I will take the trial!"

"..." The soldier gazed at Ethan, fully aware that the child had made up his mind. He turned around and began walking away.

Perplexed, Ethan and his parents stood still, unsure of what they should do next. However, their confusion was short-lived as the soldier halted and turned to face them once more.

"The recruitment trial begins in three days. It takes two nights to reach the Academy. We'll be departing in ten minutes, so gather your essentials," he informed them.

"Y-Yes!" Ethan responded eagerly.

Rushing, Ethan packed his necessary clothing and his cherished book into his backpack. As he approached the door, he glanced back at his parents, their worry evident in their eyes.

"I can't explain everything right now, but I promise to share all the details with you once I pass the recruitment. Until then... please stay safe." Ethan assured them.

Both of his parents exchanged a glance, their smiles conveying their support, and replied in unison, "We believe in you!"

As Ethan stepped out of the inn, a hint of melancholy washed over him. This village had been his home for the entirety of his twelve years. For the first time since arriving in this world, he was leaving behind the familiar and venturing into the realm of the unknown. However, his excitement swiftly replaced any lingering sadness as he embarked on his journey towards uncharted territories.

"Get in!" one of the soldiers commanded, gesturing towards the chariot.

As Ethan climbed into the chariot, he was taken aback by the presence of an unexpected passenger.

"Huh? Disgusting! Why is a peasant boarding the chariot bound for the Academy!" the person exclaimed in disgust.

"Master Sven, this child has requested to participate in the Academy's Recruitment Trial. We are obligated by law to allow him to join." one of the soldiers explained.

"Preposterous! What can a mere insect accomplish in the lion's den! Peasant, you'd better abandon your foolish aspirations and exit the chariot this instant!" Master Sven sneered.

Ethan sighed inwardly, realizing that he couldn't catch a break. This was the same person who, unjustly, had ordered his goons to harm him at the bakery stand. And now, to add insult to injury, It doesn't seem like he remembers what he did or who he was. The fact that this person was also participating in the same trial came as no surprise, given his noble lineage.

"Are you not going to respond to me?" the hateful child demanded, growing impatient.

Ethan met the gaze of the scornful child, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. With utmost sincerity, he replied, "Suck~ My~ Dick~!"

"W-WHAT!" the shock on the hateful child's face was unmistakable, his anger flushing his face red.

"A-Are you courting death!? Soldier! Execute this insolent pest immediately!" he demanded, his voice trembling with rage.

"I apologize, Master Sven, but I cannot comply with your request. Once both you and the child entered this chariot, all privileges granted by your family status were nullified. In the academy, all participants and students are considered equals, and one's family authority cannot be used to overpower those of lesser stature." the soldier explained calmly but firmly.

"W-what nonsense is this!" the hateful child exclaimed, refusing to accept the reality of the situation.

Ethan, determined not to let this newfound "privilege" affect his resolve, interjected firmly, "Didn't you just hear him? Are you deaf? Do you need me to summarize what he said? He clearly told you to shut up!"

"Y-YOU—" Sven was abruptly cut off by a loud voice from outside.

"MEN, WE ARE DEPARTING NOW! OUR DESTINATION IS THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY, LYRIA!" the commanding voice echoed through the air.

The announcement disrupted any further confrontation, redirecting the attention of both Ethan and Sven towards the imminent departure. They had no choice but to set aside their dispute for the time being and focus on the journey ahead.

After a seemingly fleeting two days of travel, Ethan found himself gazing at the awe-inspiring sight before him.

-Imperial Academy, Lyria!-

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