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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/ralo_ramone on 2025-09-05 21:26:36+00:00.

I 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 going to be quick, because I had to return to the Academy, but it only 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 guess I don’t look like the other Scholars, huh? I’m not here in 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 it is. Most cadets stay here after graduation and stick with older Imperial Knights to learn the details of the craft.”

Firana wanted to return home to 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. That would be cheerful, playful, and 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 together 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 who 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 knowing how to captivate the ladies? I bet even the System doesn’t know the secret,” 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?” he pressed.

“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, huh?” 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] to my advantage 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, so as 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 take a swing at 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 let you land in 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 to participate in an inter-class exercise hadn’t been high on my priority list, but the atmosphere in 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 part…

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