elra
patreon
An Otherworldly Scholar - 246
🕑 Added 2025-08-09 02:30:20 +0000 UTCI was starting to think that Scholars weren’t the homogeneous mass of bookworms and introverts I had envisioned in my head. Lip was neither one nor the other. He was the youngest of four siblings and the problem child of the Greymarch family. Our lunch was quick, because I had to return to the Academy, but it took me half an hour to realize why Firana had fit so well in his group. To say Lip had a thousand and one stories was an understatement.
Before me, the plate of beef soup gave off a nice, hearty aroma. The inn was a fairly respectable place near the western side of the market, full of traveling merchants and caravan hands. Lip was having a red stew with potatoes that smelled just the same.
“Why did you decide to study at the Library, Philliep?” I asked.
“I don’t look like the other Scholars, uh? I’m not here in a search for knowledge. Our rival company wanted to kill me, so my father sent me here until things cool off,” Lip replied nonchalantly. He had the table manners of the son of a wealthy merchant.
“Did you give them a reason?”
He didn’t seem offended by the question.
“I married the second daughter in secret… I still have to figure out who ratted me out.”
My spoon hovered near my mouth, but ultimately, I put it back into my plate. I wasn’t expecting a Romeo and Juliet scenario.
“Your father wasn’t happy, was he?” I pointed out.
“I thought he would let the Ravemar kill me. That would’ve saved him some trouble, but it was bad publicity for the business, so I got to live another day,” Lip continued. “I tried to convince Firana to come back to Valdaria with me, as my bodyguard, but she’s adamant that she has to return home. She says she has something important to do, but won’t tell me what. Most cadets stay here after graduation and stick with older Imperial Knights to learn the details of the craft.”
Firana wanted to return home and save the world, but I couldn’t just tell Lip that.
“It’s a shame. Firana is resourceful and disciplined. You don’t usually see that combo without a lot of arrogance in this place,” Lip sighed.
I sipped on my beef soup in silence. My picture of Firana was different from what Lip described. Not that she wasn’t a great student, but discipline wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind when I thought about her. Cheerful, playful, optimistic. In my mind, however, Firana was still the mischievous kid I met at the orphanage.
“It surprised me when she told me about her study group,” I admitted.
Lip looked at the ceiling, squinting.
“She might not be the most academically inclined person, but she powers through books I wouldn’t dare to touch through will alone. It’s quite the sight. Like a tornado trying to learn acoustics,” he said. “She talks a lot about you, and when she said you were in the city, I couldn’t help but want to meet you. The man who raised Firana had to be something special.”
I shrugged, putting a huge piece of beef into my mouth. As grateful as I was for Firana’s affection, part of me felt that our relationship was rushed. We had only spent a bit more than half a year before Firana left the orphanage to come to Cadria. Still, in that time, we had overcome a lifetime worth of problems.
“Well, here you have me,” I said.
Lip gave me an intense glance.
“Robert Clarke. A fencing Scholar turned Sage after spending weeks trapped in the Farlands during a Monster Surge, who quickly wreaked havoc at the Imperial Academy. That is something, but it takes more than that to captivate Firana,” Lip continued.
“That’s what you want to know? I thought you would offer me a deal for my machines,” I said.
“What’s more important than to know how to captivate the ladies? I bet even the System doesn’t know,” Lip replied with a playful smile.
Knowing what captivates people's hearts might be important if I want them to follow my ideas. I rubbed my eyes. Lip was impossible to read.
“So… why does Firana like you so much?”
“I’ll be damned if I knew,” I replied, not really wanting to go into details.
Lip laughed.
“What?”
“It’s good to see you are not a charismatic cult leader figure type dude, that’s all.” He continued laughing. “I have ideas why Firana likes you. Maybe it’s your fresh point of view. Fresh ideas. A blow of fresh air into a stagnant room. Or maybe it’s because you are the only certain thing in her life.”
“You have been thinking a lot about Firana, uh?” I sighed.
“Not in a romantic way, I assure you. Like I said, I’m married.”
Good.
*
After lunch, I returned to the Academy using [Minor Aerokinesis] every time I found myself in an empty street. My conversation with Lip had extended a bit overlong, and my inner clock told me I was on the edge of the blade. I jumped onto the ramp from the ground level, and the guards let me through the main gates with a small bow. If anyone was bothered by my aerokinesis, they didn’t mention it. So far, I haven’t seen any of the instructors use their skills in public except for Ghila, whose control over her mana couldn’t be great because she had a constant menacing aura that made the servile staff nervous.
I entered the main building and zigzagged through the crowd of cadets trying to get to their classrooms. Considering the level of power gathered there, the scene resembled a regular school corridor between classes. Outside the Cabbage Class, one of the gnome servants stood guard by the door. I recognized him as one of Ilya’s admirers.
“Lord Clarke, a word from Instructor Mistwood. She feels unwell and begs you to excuse her,” the gnome said with a solemn voice.
“What happened to her?” I asked, with a hint of worry. An ex-Herbalist, and a high-level one, could technically brew medicine for all the common afflictions. Besides, like every reasonable high-level combatant, she kept her potion consumption to a minimum, not to gather toxicity that could get in the way of emergency healing.
“Instructor Mistwood didn’t specify,” the gnome said.
“Thanks.”
Talindra’s absence was strange, considering that we had planned a special lesson.
A moment later, the gnome bowed and left. I entered the classroom and waited for the cadets to arrive. They appeared five minutes before the start of the class block, and as usual, I could tell they were near because of Fenwick’s loud voice coming from the corridor. To say he was excited was an understatement.
“Where are the babes?” he asked as the door slammed against the wall. “I already got rid of my hex!”
“I thought you had a no-cadet policy for your romantic partners,” Yvain asked, his stern expression immutable.
Like chalk and cheese.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t have fun along the way.”
The girls weren’t particularly amused. Nor was Dolores, who croaked out her displeasure from atop Fenwick’s head. He ignored her froggy protests.
“The only fun we will have today is an exciting journey through combat mastery.” I interrupted the conversation. “Good afternoon, everybody. Our training partners should be waiting for us in the meadow, so let’s not make them wait. Boys, grab the weapons racks. Ladies, please carry the protective gear. Let’s go.”
“Guide me to babe city, my dearest Instructor Clarke!” Fenwick said, ignoring Dolores swiping at his forehead with one of her webbed feet.
Rup almost had her puppet fly into the boy’s face, but Malkah, who had been excluded from the carry duties by his henchmen, put a hand on her shoulder. The fact that Odo, Harwin, and Cedrinor were visibly drooling behind him didn’t help his case.
“I want you to treat our guests with the same respect you treat your female classmates,” I said, looking at Fenwick. “I swear to God, if you make any tasteless remark, I will fling you high into the sky and into the lake. Are we clear?”
Like dogs with their tail between their legs, the boys nodded.
Rup and Leonie exchanged smug smiles.
“Can we at least flirt?” Fenwick asked after a moment of silence.
“Only if they do it first… I guess.” I rubbed my eyes, having to concede. Getting in the way of teenage romance after listening to Lip’s Romeo and Juliet story didn’t sit well with me.
We crossed the gardens and the interior wall and walked down the cobbled path into the meadow. By the lake, a small group of third-year cadets awaited us. Considering the frantic arm movement, Ilya was arguing with one of the girls from the Rosethorn Squad. I pushed mana into [Foresight] and the skill zoomed the scene. As expected, Ilya was arguing with Vigdis Herran, the Snow Mage.
“Look, Fenwick, they are already fighting for you,” Genivra laughed.
“I hold Cadet Ilya in such high professional regard that including her in any romantic context has been deemed inappropriate ahead of time,” Fenwick replied in a stiff voice.
“Well said.” I grinned.
Asking Zaon’s almost all-female squad wasn’t high on my priority list, but the atmosphere at the Wolfpack was tense, and Ilya had said that Black Basilisk was near impossible to gather for anything other than official missions. Still, the midterm exam would be the equivalent of the end-of-year exam from previous years, so the exigencies would be on par with the maze. Now that my Cabbages were conscious of the usage of mana to feed their skills, I wanted them to start experimenting with their full powers. To do that, I needed training partners who could withstand their power.
Ilya and Vignis Herran stopped arguing as we came close.
“Good afternoon, cadets. I’m glad you are here,” I greeted them as the boys placed the heavy weapons racks on the soft soil. “Alright, Cabbages, you know the drill! Two laps around the meadow! Mind your pace, we aren’t going anywhere!”
As usual, Leonie took the lead, and the group followed. I watched them turn around the lake before focusing back on the Rosethorn Squad—eight girls whom Zaon took great care to keep uninvolved in the affairs of the Cabbage Squad. I immediately recognized three of them.
Vigdis Herran, the Snow Witch, who had been obliterated by Ilya during the Stephaniss cup. Ilya had made her cry back then. The Herran girl had grown taller, and her bright red hair fell like a neat curtain over her shoulders. Two fox-like ears protruded from the top of her head, and a white tipped tail poked out from her uniform. Her face was as inexpressive as before, which gave her unmistakable ice queen vibes.
Her sister, Kaeli Herran, the shapeshifting jackalope-ish Mountain Druid who had instant chemistry with Zaon. Her stubby horns had grown, and her bunny ears rose two palms above her head. Unlike her sister, her expression was easygoing. She almost had Lord Herran’s forehead vein exploding twice, first when she offered Zaon a draw, and then when they got lovey-dovey after the match was over.
For a powerful ducal family, the Herran were notably unserious, and that had nothing to do with the presence of animal ears on their scalps.
“Dreva didn’t get into the Academy?” I asked.
Dreva was the friendly half-orc Forgemaster who had fought against Firana.
“My sister decided that shutting herself into a forge near the towers of Neskarat was a better use of her time than coming to the capital.” Kaeli smiled. “Father not happy.”
“Father not happy,” Vigdis echoed like it was some sort of Herran prayer.
Despite Lord Herran’s fame as a fearless warrior, in my books, he should be known as the great father he was.
The third girl I recognized was Nessa Morag-Vedras, the blonde girl who had worn a tasteful wide salmon dress to the party before the first selection exam. I might be biased towards her because of her wardrobe selection, but she seemed to be the spokeswoman of the squad.
I clapped my hands.
“Rosethorn Squad, I wanted to thank you for being here on such short notice. Lord Astur has been speeding up the selection process, so our midterm will be similar to the finals of your first year,” I said, catching the girl’s attention. They nodded, knowingly. “The plan for today is to let the cadets experiment with their powers while you fight defensively. Wolf should be here any moment now, so we count on a healer if an accident happens, although I doubt a bunch of first years can even touch any of you.”
The girls grinned. All of them should be around level twenty-five, which meant they had entered the realm of superhuman physical capabilities.
At that moment, the cadets finished the warm-up. Fenwick winked in our direction; his shirt had been discarded at some point during the second lap. A vein popped on Vigdis’ forehead.
“Please be careful with them,” I quickly added, making a mental note not to pair Fenwick with the Snow Mage. “Alright, Cabbages! There will be four fights happening at any time, so I want you to be mindful of your powers. If you target someone who isn’t your training partner, you are suspended for a whole week. Understood?”
The cadets replied with a loud ‘yes’ just as Wolf speedwalked through the gate and jogged the stretch between the wall and the lake.
“Sorry for the delay,” he said.
“Don’t sweat it. You are just in time,” I replied, channeling my mana and using [Mirage] to create four bright white circles on the ground. Each circle was twenty meters in diameter, separated by a corridor of two meters from each other. “I don’t want any skill, spell, or blade exiting the training area! Okay?”
The only cadet who might have a chance of harming a Rosethorn was Leonie. The girl’s mana pool was uncharacteristically deep, and her assortment of spells was dangerous even in a training scenario. Martial skills, like Ghost Blade and Puncture, were easier to read as they greatly depended on the user’s innate speed and weapon skill.
“Genivra, Cedrinor, Odo, Yvain, you go first. The timer is set for two minutes. Don’t spend all your mana in one go!” I announced to Fenwick’s dismay.
I was careful not to put Odo and Malkah in the same group, as Odo’s [Sentinel’s Oath] would make him focus on Malkah’s fight instead of his own opponent.
“Better put your shirt on, Farmboy,” Genivra said as she passed by his side. She put on the padded jacket, cap with nasal guard, and protective gloves before stopping by the weapons rack to take a long rapier.
Odo picked a longsword, Yvain a rapier, and Cedrinor two arming swords.
Nessa Morag-Vedras entered Yvain’s circle, followed by three other girls.
“Is it just me, or do their uniforms fit them better than ours?” I asked.
The Imperial Academy provided the same black training uniform, but somehow, Rosethorn Squad seemed runway-ready.
“They paid an adept Tailor from the Artisans Circle,” Ilya said, arms crossed by my side.
“I can neither confirm nor deny, but there was a time when we needed all the credibility we could get,” Zaon interjected.
I stood in the center of the four circles, pushing mana into my [Foresight] to focus on the individual matches more efficiently. Without a word, Ilya and Wolf joined me. While Zaon, the girls from the Rosethorn Squad, and the cadets stood a few meters away on the sidelines. The way the girls swirled around Zaon wasn’t subtle in the slightest.
Fenwick was in shambles.
“Start!” I shouted.
Genivra used [Ghost Blade] to make her sword invisible and jumped forward with [Quick Step], aiming at her partner’s face. Odo channeled his [Steadfast Shield] over his left shoulder, halving the area exposed to attacks. Cedrinor used [Fury] to improve his physical faculties and reduce the pain of the wounds. Yvain channeled her mana, but no physical change happened. If I had to guess, he was using the Duelist’s detection skill. Nessa shuddered as the skill hit her.
“Everything good with the Wolfpack?” I asked as the cadets exchanged the first blows. It pleased me to see they were being careful while pushing the intensity level beyond what we used during regular training.
“All good. We were discussing the possibility of asking for an early deployment to be back for the midterms,” Wold replied with a long sigh.
“They weren’t happy you were bending their schedule to accommodate mine?”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Cedrinor jumped, Spartan style, but his axes ended up buried in the soil.
“Do what’s better for them, not me, Wolf. I don’t want you to have a bad time because of me—” I said, but before I could finish the sentence, [Foresight] pinged my brain.
Nessa parried Yvain’s blade and elbowed the boy across the face. Yvain fell on his back, but jumped to his feet before I could even blink. The movement looked unnatural, almost like he had just defied gravity. A movement skill, maybe? Yvain spat blood to the side.
“Do you like that, Osgirian?” Nessa said with poison in her voice.
Zaon perked up, but I signaled him to stay put. At any other moment in my career, I would’ve intervened, but something stopped me. Yvain raised his guard, unfazed, which seemed to infuriate Nessa even more.
Yvain attacked, but [Duelist’s Eye] wasn’t enough to compensate for the level difference. They exchanged quick blows. Yvain’s technique was correct, but Nessa had an inhuman speed. She pushed Yvain’s sword aside, kicked him in the inner leg, making him growl in pain, and buried the pommel of her sword in his stomach. Before Nessa could connect the fourth blow, Yvain swung his sword, forcing her to retreat.
“Say something, murderer!” Nessa shouted.
Yvain’s father, Sir Enric Osgiria, had caused the deaths of many Healers and Alchemists from the Vedras dukedom two years ago during the Farlands campaign. His soldiers had marched onward, leaving the rear unprotected. In the end, he had paid for his decision with his life.
Yvain remained cool, although underneath his expression, he was troubled.
Nessa’s sword caught fire. The white flames were too hot to look at the blade directly. My body moved on its own. [Minor Aerokinesis] shot me forward, and my hand closed around the girl’s wrist just as she was going to attack.
“If my memory serves me well, I just said you should treat the cadets carefully,” I said in a firm voice while I covered my body with a protective mana layer.
Nessa tried to free herself, but she didn’t have nearly enough strength to get away from my grasp.
“Enough!” Zaon shouted above the sound of the flames, and Nessa’s body tensed like someone had hit her with a whip. “Lower your sword! Now! Those who raise their swords against the innocent don’t deserve to be Imperial Knights. You are dismissed. Return to your quarters and stay there until you realize how foolish your actions were.”
The whole meadow seemed to freeze, and Nessa’s sword blew like a candle in the rain. A moment later, the girl was walking back to the main building, angry tears running down her face. It took a while to understand what had happened.
Zaon was fuming.
“Robert, look, I got goosebumps,” Ilya whispered, showing me her arms.
Wolf was pale, and for a moment, nobody dared to speak until Kaeli cleared her throat and leaned closer to Vigdis.
“That was kinda hot.”
[Foresight] told me it was probably for the best that Zaon didn't hear her.
Comments
I Dare Korval
Sorry but you didn't get that quote quite right: https://youtu.be/2f_k8Z6CPcE?t=40
Rod
Let's go! Zaon has become the embodiment of "demons run when a gentle men goes to war'
Ben Bass
TYFTC! Dang, Zaon really has grown and knows when and how to appropriately dress someone down in the moment! He is definitely going to go far, I can see him starting his leadership here, and him going very far. I am very glad that Robert didn't act at first, then we wouldn't have seen how things played out and how Zaon imparted a much more impactful lesson for Nessa.
