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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (123/?) Revised Version 1
🕑 Added 2025-04-06 00:37:11 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note: Hey everyone! There’s been quite a few revisions in this one so I do suggest you guys give this chapter another read through! :D Some of the notable edits include Belnor addressing Ilunor instead of Emma now since he’s more or less the de-facto representative/leader of the group so I edited those segments to better reflect that! Other edits that are a bit easier to miss include me adding the specific dates and timelines for the quest! With the quest starting around Tuesday of next week, and Belnor mentioning that it lasts a week! Beyond that, I also edited the gang’s conversation once they arrived back at the dorm to better reflect the political situation at the school and Ping’s gambit! :D Overall, I wanted this chapter to dive back into the waters of school politics, while also balancing Emma’s mission, and the complications that arise all throughout it! :D That’s about it this time around! As always, all of the revised sections are highlighted with an underline to easily see what’s been revised! :D
Author’s Note 2: I’ve also attached the PDF and EPUB versions of this chapter, since Patreon is still working on a solution for the recent formatting bug! :D
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Grand Concourse of Learning. The Observer's Cove. Local time: 1625.
Emma
A series of gasps echoed throughout the room following that proclamation, as stares, glares, and a whole host of knowing glances were exchanged between friendly and rival peer groups alike.
“While I understand that most of you are learned nobles and wisened scholars in your own right, it would be remiss of me not to offer the proper context for such a time-honored tradition — especially to those who have yet to have reached the same heights as the favored amidst adjacent realms.” The elderly Belnor began, setting her sights not only on me, but Thalmin and a few other students as well.
“So without further ado, let us begin…”
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 250% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
The whole room darkened with a flourishing of drapes which not only served to block out the right side of the hall, but also the center stage which housed Belnor’s surgical-theater setup.
This was followed almost immediately by a vanishing act, as the entirety of the central platform quite literally vanished without a trace, before just as abruptly being replaced by a round room divided up into four partitions.
Belnor, now disappearing up into the rafters or god knows where, started to narrate the events from a distance. All of which were depicted within that room via some carefully choreographed magical animatronics.
Or more specifically, wooden mannequin creatures that came to life as soon as she spoke.
“Once upon a time, in a recently established Crownlands that was just coming into its own, there existed a prince of adjacent origins. An emissary, diplomat—” The section of the carousel-like room facing us suddenly glowed to life, sprouting a wooden figure dressed in the fineries that I’d become accustomed to now. “—and would-be socialite.”
The scene quickly shifted, the background changing from that of a stately manor to a grand ballroom, complete with several recently-sprouted wooden mannequins that danced across the stage.
“This prince, as was the case with many young and impressionable adults, became enamored by Nexian traditions. From food and wine, to balls and galas, to the modern conveniences offered by a realm brimming with infinite mana.” The scenes quickly shifted from that of the gala, to feasts, fancy wagons, and even an aethraship. All to the tune of a dozen or so mana radiation warnings, and the constant rotation of the carousel that shifted the scenes from one to the next.
“However, there was one thing that distinguished this prince from the many other adjacent realmers that came before him. A desire and a motivation that far outweighed all else amongst his peerage.” The professor paused, shifting to a balcony scene, depicting not just the prince, but another wooden figure in an ornate dress. “Love. One of the… forbidden variety. For this prince had fallen head over heels not for another adjacent royal, but instead, a member of the Nexian royalty.”
Slanderous gasps and murmurs of intrigue were heard amidst the crowd as many had come to be invested in what I was amounting to a movie being shown in class.
“As you could expect, this did not come without its challenges.” Belnor continued, the carousel shifting to scenes of the expected outcry and outrage over this forbidden love. “But beyond the typical social challenges, came one which none could have expected.” The carousel eventually landed on a scene of the princess in bed, her weak and trembling hand held within the prince’s soft grip. “Illness, one grave and incurable. An affliction not limited to the body—which as we all learned last class is curable—” The professor paused, as if to awkwardly hammer home the ‘Three Deaths Lesson’ from last class. “—but instead, reaching to unravel the tethers which bind the soul and body.”
The scenes depicted in the carousel became increasingly dreary, as the formerly vibrant colors were replaced by a dull monotone, until finally everything came to a head with a heated conflict between three more mannequins.
“The prince was met with an ultimatum. One which would determine the course of not just his life, but that of his lover. He was to travel to the ends of the Nexus, find a cure, and only then would her hand be betrothed to his in marriage. The man accepted, fueled by the flames of young love — setting out on an expedition for the legendary Everblooming Blossom. A flower with properties capable of curing the princess’ ailments, but found only in the annals of myth and legend.”
The scene froze for a moment as the professor walked forward, her voice shifting from the cadence of myth to the clarity of scholarship. “And yet, most myths are founded in some reality. For the flower that is the Everblooming Blossom is no simple myth, but is instead endemic to the so-called young forests found exclusively in the outer reaches of the Nexus’ plane of expansion. The legends of its formerly widespread use in the Crownlands were, in fact, based in truth. Remnants of folk wisdom from a bygone age predating the Crownlands’ establishment — from a time where the blossom bloomed bountifully along the edges of what was once the known world. However, as the Nexus expanded outwards, so too did the flower’s natural habitat extend with it, retreating ever further until no trace of its existence remained in the Crownlands and Midlands.”
The carousel started rotating again following that interlude, now showing a montage of the man’s journey through forests, marshlands, swamps, hot deserts, and snow-capped mountains. “The prince’s journey took years, some saying it took decades without the aid of the transportium network nor intraplanar portals. But by the end of it, the man arrived at what we now know as the Outlands. And it is there, atop of a tall hill, that he discovered what he sought.” The stage now showed the mannequin reaching for a pile of what looked to be violet and orange flowers. “The Everblooming Blossom.”
“The prince eventually made his way back to his lover.” The scene shifted once more, showing the man arriving with a basket of flowers. “And following a lengthy recovery, the princess’ parents honored their promise. The pair were betrothed and married, and as the old saying goes… they all lived happily ever after.”
The carousel eventually came to a close following a fanciful wedding ceremony put on fast forward.
The class, and its original configuration, returned following a dozen or so more mana radiation warnings.
“The Quest for the Everblooming Dawn is, by all measures, a tribute to the tenacity of the adjacent spirit. It demonstrates the unwavering will of those from adjacent standing to the duty that comes with the love of a higher plane and a higher calling.” The professor summed everything up succinctly, before shifting to a more personable tone of voice. “Your quest, should you wish to take on this mantle, is to retrieve a bushel’s worth of Everblooming Blossoms. Your destination lies in the northernmost reaches of the Kingdom of Transgracia — for it is believed that the prince’s fabled discovery was made within the borders of what would later become the eponymous Kingdom from which our Academy takes its name.”
“Now, as all of you should understand, the Academy’s classes have grown considerably since its founding. Thus, to comply with the Academy’s charters with the Kingdom of Transgracia, I will be limiting this quest to only ten peer groups. Of which, only two members of each group may participate. In lieu of the fact that the quest is slated to take no more than a week, starting from Tuesday of next week, and will require the two individuals in question to miss classes. The two remaining members of each peer group are thus tasked with carrying on the quest-takers’ studies and responsibilities on their behalf.”
Right, okay, all of this makes sense so far. I thought to myself, steadying my heart for when the logical whiplash would inevitably come.
“There are a myriad of ways in which these ten may be chosen. However, given the unique constraints which govern this year’s circumstances, I will resort to that of the most expedient method.” The professor paused, her eyes leveling across the entire class as she pulled out a book right out of thin air. “The ten peer groups will be chosen by points. With those chosen being that of the ten highest scoring groups up to this point.”
My heart skipped a beat, as I turned to Ilunor, Thacea, and Thalmin in that order.
We’d been purposefully neglecting the point game for the sake of staying out of drama and trouble. A fact that both Thacea and Ilunor had drilled into me following the first few days of classes.
However, while Thacea and Ilunor began checking through their notebooks in order to find out the current points tally, I only needed to turn to the EVI to bring up the current scoreboard.
The likes of which gave me some significant pause for thought.
…
I already knew the turnout before it began.
[POINT ACCUMULATION STATUS: 7TH]
But to say I wasn’t the least bit nervous would be a bold-faced lie.
The EVI could only be as accurate as the data it had to work with. There was always a chance that points accumulated outside of class or quietly earned through coursework could shift the rankings without its knowledge.
Which meant that our ‘guaranteed’ spot wasn't guaranteed at all…
Only time would tell where we actually were in the true rankings.
Though to her credit, Belnor was speedy in her delivery of the results in question, wasting little time in delivering the coveted tally. She even read out the names for each group, much to the giddiness of those who were more than assured a place on the blackboard.
“Lord Qiv’Ratom!” She declared first, garnering a series of claps not only from his group, but the classroom at large.
“Lord Auris Ping!” She continued, this time garnering an even louder and more vibrant series of cheers, but with a distinct lack of numbers that Qiv commanded.
It seemed to be a battle of quantity over intensity of followers between the two.
And I was glad I wasn’t competing in their little rat race.
The next series of names didn’t really garner too much in the way of attention, save for some polite claps by Qiv, who seemed to be playing the role of the ‘noble sportsman’ — graciously acknowledging those who would soon become his competition.
We were down a solid five more names before I started feeling the heat.
Because we were, at this point, well and truly into uncharted territory.
“Lord Gumigo!” Belnor continued, sparking barely any applause.
We were well into what should have been 7th place by now.
“Lady Cynthis!”
The leopard-like humanoid garnered the cheers of her entire peer group, and a few other all-girl groups much to Thalmin’s visible dismay, as they formed what I could only describe was a homogenous band of harmonized cheers that reminded me of one of those unnerving fraternity house greetings.
It was at the height of those cheers however that Cynthis shot Thalmin an overly friendly wink. One that seemed genuine… but to a degree that I felt was just a little bit too much.
The prince, to his credit, remained perfectly still throughout that uncomfortable exchange. Though the look in his eyes as he turned towards me was more than evidence enough of the discomfort welling within.
It was at that point however that I soon realized we were at the tenth and final name.
This was our last chance…
Though strangely, unlike the rest, the professor seemed to take her time with this one. As she quickly wrote out two names on the chalkboard as opposed to the one for each row.
The reason why, would quickly become apparent.
“It’s not every year that we have a tie. Especially given how unlikely it is for two groups to have accumulated precisely the same number of points.” The professor began, placing her chin atop a balled fist. “Lord Ilunor Rularia…” My heart swelled in excitement— “... and Lord Etholin Esila.” —before sinking right back down into the abyssal depths.
I reflexively shot Etholin a worried look; a sentiment that was reflected in his features, but completely undermined by the sheer frustrations of the rest of his peer group.
The snake-like Ilphius especially, shooting me one of the nastiest glares I’d experienced to date… which was saying a lot.
The whispers of hushed gossip whirled in the air immediately after that, though Belnor was quick to quiet them down.
“Now, there are a multitude of ways in which we may resolve this conflict.” Belnor continued politely, placing both of her hands together with practiced decorum. “However, I would like to start with the simplest and most straightforward. Do either of you wish to declare a forfeiture to your right to quest?”
“No, Professor.” Both Ilunor and Etholin spoke literally at the same time without a second’s hesitation, Etholin’s higher-pitched tones clashing with Ilunor’s snappy confidence.
“I see.” The elderly elf responded, shrugging in the process. “It was worth a try, even if there were only five instances of willing forfeitures over my entire tenure.”
With a sigh, she moved towards one of the many books in that recessed lab of hers, scrolling through the pages with the aid of some magical spell helping to find the exact passage she needed for this eventuality.
“Right then. Given that neither party yields, and when taking into consideration the Academy’s respect for the rights of each student, both earned and inherited, a resolution can only be made by arbitration.” She paused, leveling her eyes on both of our groups. “Now, the form which this arbitration takes is dependent on the circumstances involved. However, given the particularities of this tie, tradition demands arbitration via challenge.” A frustrated smirk soon formed at the edges of the woman’s face. “A challenge which, in keeping with customs, demands a confrontational contest of either the physical or magical variety to be overseen by the next class period.”
Etholin’s features dropped. Though his fur made it impossible to see the color draining from his face, his eyes gave practically everything away.
Moreover, it was his body language that spoke leagues.
The man… simply slunk back into his seat, a hand nervously tapping on the table in front of him as he turned every which way before raising his other free and shaking hand.
“P-professor. If I may inquire, exactly why are we forced into arbitration via challenge? E-especially one involving a c-contest?” His eyes consistently flicked back towards both me and Ilunor, as if realizing that a contest against either of us spelled certain doom — either by force of magic, or force of manaless strength.
“I’m afraid it’s a matter of circumstance, my dear.” The elf responded in as empathetic a tone as she could muster. “I’m required to submit ten pairs of prospective quest takers by the end of the school week. This is a deadline that necessitates speedy arbitration. As such, dueling—” The professor coughed lightly. “—a contest tends to be the most expedient process.” Belnor cleared her throat once more, in an attempt to move past that little Freudian slip. “Beyond this, a professor is required to oversee a challenge. So who better to perform this task than tomorrow’s incumbent instructor?” Belnor paused for effect, emphasizing her next words with a dramatic flair. “Professor Chiska.”
“However, I am nothing if not fair.” She quickly added. “I would be remiss if I did not mention the various clauses involved in such a challenge, and your various rights to augment and remedy your circumstances.” She darted her eyes back and forth between us two. “I can most certainly empathize with your reluctance on this matter, Lord Esila. In which case, as group leader, you may choose a champion to replace yourself in this challenge. The same goes for your group as well, Lord Ilunor Rularia.” She shot me a glance, and yet another curious smile.
“I will allow you five minutes to discuss amongst yourselves, and not a second more.”
=====
Emma
“I will have you know that I refuse to act as surrogate champion for this little predicament you’ve once again dragged us into.” Ilunor announced sharply, deploying a privacy screen in the process.
“Don’t worry Ilunor, I’ll volunteer as tribute.” I replied bluntly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, after all.”
“This is as much your battle as it is mine, Emma.” Thalmin quickly chimed in. “I am more than willing to volunteer for whatever challenge lies ahead, duel or not.”
“I appreciate that, Thalmin.” I acknowledged with a heavy nod, glancing at the blackened dome that had abruptly formed around Etholin’s group. “However, this whole mess is my responsibility. I wouldn’t want to cause you any more trouble than I already am.”
That sentiment seemed to resonate with Thalmin, as he nodded silently and adjusted himself in his seat.
“Still… I really don’t want to do this. Etholin is—”
“A man you wish to forge alliances with, yes.” Ilunor chimed in. “However, you must be able to separate your personal reservations from the practical functions of politics and action. These three axes can exist concurrently as you find yourself at odds with the path forward.”
“Two-faced Nexian nonsense…” Thalmin mumbled out under a derisive breath.
“I am merely trying to provide practical advice, Prince Thalmin.” The Vunerian shot back at the lupinor dismissively.
“Emma.” Thacea spoke up, defusing the duo’s bickering before it could continue. “It is at this point that you must commit to the path circumstances have dictated. I understand you might be hoping for a compromise; a solution in which we circumvent all outcomes to forge our own. However, you must remember the game we are currently embroiled in. This quest is merely a front, one for a mission with grand stakes.”
I regarded Thacea’s words with a firm nod, letting out a frustrated sigh in the process.
“I can mend my relationship with Etholin afterwards.” I managed out, more or less reading Thacea’s mind as she nodded in response. “In contrast, the amethyst dragon thing is a do-or-die situation. There’s no mending that if I fail.” I took a deep breath, shrugging in the process. “I’ll make it up to him in the future. That’s a guarantee.” I said that more to myself than anyone else, sending both promises and positive vibes to the ferret currently obscured by a dark and ominous dome.
=====
Etholin
The frustrations of all party members began their assault on my senses.
“I TOLD YOU THAT WENCH WAS TROUBLE! I KNEW FOR A FACT THAT FATE HAD BOUND US AS NEMESES. BUT OH NO, OUR GREAT AND WISE MERCHANT LORD BELIEVES HER TO BE THE KEY TO HIS PERSONAL FORTUNES!” Ilphius hissed wildly, going so far as to deploy a visual privacy screen, obscuring our group from the rest of the class via a hastily-formed shadowy dome.
“I would be inclined to defend you, Lord Esila.” Lord Teleos began. “However, given the circumstances, I would be more inclined to align my interests with Lady Ilphius.”
“FINALLY! THE FENCE-SITTER SEES REASON!” Ilphius shouted wildly, her hands gripping the table in front of us with a wild fury.
“But not with your assessments over fate and whatever else nonsense you love to spout out, Lady Ilphius.” Telos quickly added. “While I believe the newrealmer is trouble, I would be betraying my principles if I did not point out the fallacies on which your animosity is built.”
Ilphius refused to respond to that blatant slight, instead choosing to face me with all her rage.
“Allow me to face her.” The serpent glowered.
“How do you even know it will be the newrealmer to be chosen for—”
“Because she’s their beast on a leash, Lord Lophime!” Ilphius shot down Teleos’ counter argument before it had time to form.
The small gap of silence that followed, was one I was adamant on taking advantage of.
“I—”
“No. NO MORE!” She slammed her fists against the table, cracking it. “It will be I who will be leading us out of this mess.”
“Is this a challenge to my authority, Lady Ilphius?” I stated as plainly and calmly as I could given the situation.
I could feel the heat welling within her as she processed that retort, my soul wavering as I now found myself staring up against a beast which, in any other circumstance, could otherwise swallow me whole. Thankfully, a moment of reprieve came into play when the serpent unexpectedly turned back to Telos, as if to garner some support in this palace coup.
The lesser merfolk, seemingly unfazed by the whole back and forth, merely shrugged in response. “This isn’t a democracy. That’s your first folly in this attempt to garner support, Lady Ilphius.”
“EXCUSE—”
“Your five minutes have elapsed!” Professor Belnor’s voice announced loudly, completely shattering our privacy fields in the process.
The earthrealmer, perhaps seeing the sheer distress I was in, took to her feet first, clearing her throat as if to buy me the precious few seconds necessary to finalize our arrangements.
“Professor Belnor?”
“Yes, Cadet Emma Booker?”
“As per our discussions within my peer group, under Lord Rularia’s rulings with counsel and advisory from the rest of our group, we have decided that I will be volunteering as champion for…”
I allowed the earthrealmer to ramble on as I focused instead on bringing an end our scuffle. “I elect Prince Teleos Lophime as our champion.” I addressed Ilphius in no uncertain terms.
The lesser merfolk was a far calmer, more reserved choice, and his martial background meant that he stood far more of a chance against the earthrealmer than a raving irate lunatic.
“How dare you—”
“Ahem! Lord Etholin Esila! Have you made your decision?” The professor, and in turn the entire class, shifted their attention once more to me.
“I have, Professor.” I announced firmly. “I will be electing Lord—”
“If I may have a word, Professor?”
Another voice interjected, completely throwing my center of focus off-balance with both its abruptness and its presence.
“Yes, Lord Auris Ping?” Professor Belnor acknowledged.
“Is it within your oversight to allow other parties to take on the role of surrogate champion?” He inquired, as my eyes began widening at the growing complications forming from this simple conflict.
“Hmm.” The professor responded, flipping through the pages of yet another notebook, landing her finger on a particular passage which she read out to the class. “... a surrogate champion may be considered if the prospective champion in question has no personal stake in either the loss or victory of their elected sponsor; in short, a lack of a pressing conflict of interest.” The elf pondered this for a moment, turning back to the blackboard for some form of confirmation.
“You will be championing on the behalf of Lord Etholin Esila and his peer group’s right to quest, correct?”
“Yes, Professor.” Ping responded with deference.
“And you do not claim forfeiture of your own right to quest for the sake of some grander prize or wager, correct?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“And should you be victorious, do you intend on recruiting Lord Etholin Esila’s quest group for your own aims?”
“No, Professor.”
“Then tell me, why do you wish to fight as surrogate champion? What is it you seek?”
A pause punctuated that question, as the man craned his head once towards the armored earthrealmer and once again towards me. His features… softening, contorting into a terrifying facsimile of kindness that only resulted in this uncanny resemblance of a mimic attempting to feign some twisted sort of benign intent.
“I only seek to play my role as prospective Class Sovereign, Professor.” He began ‘softly’, as if addressing our group in the process. “And as Sovereign, it is my intent to defend the meek and defenseless—” That phrasing in particular caused Ilphius’ eyes to swell with anger, the serpent only halting at the behest of a harsh glare from Teleos. “—against the malicious and malevolent. It is, after all, the role of any Sovereign to use their powers for the benefit of all. This is a duty which I wish to undertake, and a chivalrous spirit which I wholeheartedly embody.”
The man shifted, moving away from his desk and towards the aisle now. “There are monsters which lurk amidst our ranks, Professor. Monsters of the worst sort — the unholy and the wicked. Lord Etholin Esila and his peer group may in fact be more than capable of defending themselves, but I would be ignorant, if not outright grossly negligent, if I did not step up to defend my fellow nobles when the circumstances demands it.” The man once more paused for effect, his head craning towards Qiv this time around. “I am not a man who remains silent in the dereliction of his duties as protector of a realm, while those clearly in need struggle against the forces of darkness.”
The professor regarded Lord Ping’s outbursts with a measured expression, offering no response until his rants had ceased.
“Is that all, Lord Ping?”
“Yes, Professor.” The man reflexively nodded.
“Very well.” The elf turned towards me, her tone worryingly calm. “As I see little reason to deny Lord Ping’s request, I will allow this matter to proceed. Lord Etholin Esila, the choice to accept or refuse now rests entirely within you. You have until the end of class to decide.”
My heart raced at the trail end of that ultimatum, my eyes eventually coming to rest upon Lord Ping’s as he shot me a sincerely insincere look of reassurance.
We’ll be indebted… I thought to myself dourly. To Lord Ping of all people… I flinched, shaking internally as I could only imagine the sorts of favors such a man would ask of a debtor.
But what other option did I have…
Turning to Teleos, the man remained as ambivalent and apathetic as always, simply shrugging at my questioning look.
However, it only took one stray look at the earthrealmer to make my decision.
We can mend our relationship after this whole debacle… I reasoned with myself, as I steadied my breath in anticipation for the fallout of this fiasco.
“I accept your offer, Lord Auris Ping.” I stated simply, in as firm and unflinching of a tone as I could muster in this situation.
To which the man’s expressions shifted to one of an ear-to-ear grin. “A wise decision, Lord Esila.” He began, before bowing slightly in expectant decorum. “It will be an honor to serve as your surrogate champion.”
Those words found themselves serenaded by the arrival of the Academy band, the doors opening as if to laud the man’s brilliant political maneuvering, or more accurately, his opportunist plays that had completely shifted the power dynamics of our three peer groups.
=====
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Living Room. Local Time: 1715 Hours.
Emma
“What the hell just happened?” I groaned under a frankly confused breath.
“Lord Auris Ping has just made some bold social maneuvers, that’s what.” Ilunor responded with an equally frustrated sigh, taking a moment to gorge himself in the process. “The man saw an opening, and like a carrion feeder, he came to pick up the scraps of what he saw as a potential boost to his social standing.”
“It’s a play for the Class Sovereign, or at least, in his perceived ‘capacity’ as a Class Sovereign.” Thalmin growled out. “Feigning the enlightened noble, by framing us as the antagonists and Lord Esila’s peer group as an ineffectual gaggle of damsels in distress to be saved by a chivalrous knight.”
“And in doing so, he gains all the aforementioned, alongside a debt incurred provided he wins.” Thacea added, capping off the trio’s analysis.
“And if he doesn’t? What exactly does he have to gain if he loses to me again?” I asked bluntly.
“I’m sure losing isn’t part of his vernacular, Cadet Emma Booker.” Ilunor stated plainly. “Therefore, I doubt he was planning that far ahead.”
“But if we give the man a benefit of a doubt, and assume he’s at least capable of planning for less than desirable eventualities, I could still very well see something for him to gain.” Thacea politely added. “Namely, the disruption of relations between our two peer groups. I am certain that some parties have already taken note of Lord Esila’s growing amiability with our group. With you in particular as his object of interest, Emma. Thus, by committing to this gambit, Lord Ping has in effect forced upon us a disruption in our relations. So even if he does lose, a wedge will have been formed between us, as Etholin’s group would be seen siding with a force that is diametrically opposed to our own.”
“So he’s trying to isolate us.” Thalmin surmised. “Foiling any potential for alliances before they can be fostered.”
“He'd still be gaining that in the event of his victory, Princess.” Ilunor groaned in frustration.
“Yes, but I was attempting to rationalize what there would be left to gain in the eventuality that he loses.” Thacea countered.
“A net loss on his part, then.” Ilunor shrugged. “He’d be exchanging yet more loss of face, in the leadup to the Class Sovereign challenges at that, all for an insignificant gain.”
“Which leads me to believe that Ping’s fallen prey to only seeing the benefits of victory. The sweet outcome alone enough to convince him to pull the trigger on this whole gambit.” I finally surmised.
“When taken from your perspective, perhaps it is a foolish gambit.” Thacea regarded both myself and Ilunor. “But from his perspective, this gambit was finally one which was worth the risk.”
“An opportunity with too much to gain. Yes, yes, princess.” Ilunor acknowledged, before landing his gaze on me. “To keep things simple for your culturally-backwards mind, earthrealmer; Lord Ping is on a hair-trigger. Ever since the humiliation of his social station resulting from the library card incident, to the greatest humiliation of all in physical education, the man has been attempting to find the right opportunity for recompense. It just so happens that this is the perfect storm of opportunity. From his gambit for class sovereign and his image as Lord Protector, through to a tangible debt vassal in the form of Lord Esila’s group, this is simply a risk he was willing to take.” The Vunerian seemed casual, almost too casual throughout that explanation. “Though given your track record thus far, I am certain tomorrow will prove to be of little challenge, earthrealmer.”
I couldn’t help but to release a long sigh as a result of that, reaching for my faceplate with a bonk in the process. “Right. Speaking of which, what exactly can we expect from tomorrow, anyways?” I managed out, attempting to steer the conversation towards more productive waters. “As in, what’s the challenge?”
“All we know is that it will be a one-on-one contest or duel, Emma.” Thalmin responded. “However, given the nature of tomorrow’s class, I doubt it’ll be a purely magical affair.”
“It will be something in the vein of augmented physicality, whether or not this is a competition of sport, or a directly martial affair, is uncertain. Only time — and Professor Chiska’s personal inclinations — will tell.” Ilunor surmised.
“Right, well… I guess that’s that for now.” I grunted. “With all that being said, I have some errands I intend on running today.” I turned to the group, planting my hands on my hips. “Given the time limit imposed on me here, it seems like I only have four full days to get the motorcycle printed out and assembled. That’s cutting it a bit close, so I’m headed over to Sorecar’s to see if I can outsource some of the production to the man. Besides, it’ll also be a good opportunity for me to nickel and dime my way into getting some free metal for my motorcycle.” I grinned mischievously.
Comments
Michael Halpern
it seems to be a matter of rank, based on position of Realm (nexian above all else) followed by title. though in practice, Emma's group flipped the script.
crown01
I love the politicking that’s going on in this one, especially the different ways Ilunor, Thacea, and Thalmin react and explain it. I wonder if this is going to stay between Emma and Ping or if Qiv is going to find a way to weasel into this to his benefit somehow. Also I wonder if the peer groups actually have formal rules around who fills the role of leader, and if so what kind rules govern a challenge to that leadership like we see brewing in Etholin’s group.
Jcb112
Yup! I'll be doing it very soon! :D I apologize for the delay.
TheEagerReader
Thanks for posting. Will you still post the WIP later?
