Daybreak:Volume 1 Chapter 6: Difference between revisions

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===Chapter 5 - Status of Life===
===Chapter 6 - A Peaceful Day===


Even on a Sunday, Ariadne's morning began at 6AM. For an early winter day, that was before daybreak.
Pascal affixed his shirt's top button, before wrapping the medal around his neck and tightening it into place. He then flipped down his collars and adjusted it carefully. He made sure the gleaming black Knight's Cross outlined in white gold was perfectly centered. Staring back at the dresser mirror, he examined the dashing grin that reflected back before giving it a nod of approval.


Taking advantage of a fresh mind, she always started with an hour of studying. On the second day of the weekend, this meant a quick read through next week's materials in preparation.
He spun on his leather boots' heels before walking around the bed.


After that was a full set of warm-ups, from squats to sit-ups, while she watched the dawning light permeate the horizon in grapefruit red. It was followed by an hour of sword practice, slashing away at illusory opponents provided by the academy's drill hall.
Today was the first time that Pascal had seen Kaede's sleeping face. Even inside the warmth of the dormitory keep, the girl snuggled into the thick comforter with only her head exposed. Turned to the side, her snowy hair scattered across her gentle sleeping face. Her expression was serene and peaceful, except for the dark outlines beneath her eyes.


Manteuffel clan swords were heavy and difficult to handle. While longer than a bastard sword, their blades were narrower but thicker. The handle matched the wielder's arm in length and included a sidebar near the guard, while a second, shorter blade could eject from the rear end. The result could be interchangeably used as a greatsword, spear, or two-bladed sword; not to mention the entire weapon could magically enlarge into a heavy lance thrice the height of man, tipped by a frighteningly long blade.
Another stab of guilt sunk into his chest, but Pascal steeled himself and shook her through the bedcovers.


Those swords symbolized the family's customs and pride: adaptable to circumstances, creative in its use, mastered only through diligence, and deadly beyond all doubt in action.
There was no response, so he did it again.


Ariadne was the fourth child in a branch family, the only daughter behind three older brothers. In a life where everyone expected her every step to be overshadowed by more prestigious clansmen, she managed to come out with her head held high and her name near the top.
"Come on, wake up already," he called after the fifth time, finally eliciting a response:


With her morning routine finished and an off-day ahead, Ariadne indulged her impeccable horsemanship by taking her pegasus familiar Edelweiss out on a ride. She greeted the castle stablemaster as she went by, whom she knew well from two years of borrowing horses. Although now that she has flown with Edelweiss, Ariadne doubted she could ever be satisfied again by merely riding on the ground.
"Uhhhhnnnnn?"


Soaring across the castle perimeter from ten stories up, she noticed another girl practicing early in the morning. It was Pascal's familiar, shooting arrows across the roof again with a massive bow, the design of which she has never seen.
"I said wake up!"


"Good morning, Miss Suvorosky!" Ariadne called out as she guided Edelweiss into a flawless landing atop the dormitory keep. Having only spoken to her once before, Ariadne had to tap her memory necklace -- which she used as a diary -- for a reminder on names.
Two small hands emerged from the bedcovers to rub her eyes.


"Good morning, uh, milady." The same could not be said for the other girl as she stood uncertain.
"Talk about a heavy sleeper..."


"Ariadne is fine," her ever-gentle smile radiated as she walked up.  
"C-couldn't give me just a few more minutes?" Kaede yawned as her thin arms stretched out while her eyes remained closed. "I couldn't sleep till like three-something..."


The smaller girl finally pulled out from her loading stance, her long canary-white hair swaying in the rooftop breeze.
"Sleep earlier then. I have already given you leeway today. You need to wake up at the same time as everyone else when I go campaigning."


"In that case, please call me Kaede as well."
Her pink eyes finally opened, highlighting the shadows below them as her cherry lips formed a scowl.


"I take it that's a bow from your world?"
Pascal slowly waved his hand over her while he whispered a ''Refreshen'' spell. Her countenance instantly grew less pale. The bags under her eyes disappeared while a healthy tinge of pink returned to her cheeks.


Ariadne tested the waters, still not entirely believing the 'otherworld' story. But Kaede dispelled Ariadne's lingering suspicions in an instant as her pensive mood cast a gloom over her entire figure:
Maybe he overdid it a little. Kaede looked like she was sporting a disgruntled blush.


"Yeah... I practiced with it on most mornings back in my world. It's a meditative activity, and keeping up the routine helps when everything else changed so much."
''Kind of cute, actually,'' Pascal smiled.


"So how are you managing? Has that self-centered prick been treating you alright?"
"Better. Now, dress up and remember your research tasks today. Get up earlier tomorrow if you want breakfast. I cannot wait any longer; have morning practice in fifteen. I will see you at lunch."


Kaede shrugged:
With that, Pascal went straight out the door.
 
"I have a sturdy roof to live under, hearty food to enjoy, and a comfy bed to warm. Other than my lack of purpose here, and the unusual... changes, I guess I really should be grateful... since it could've been so much worse. Pascal isn't a bad person; I may fault him for the summoning, but what's done is done. I just wish he stopped treating me like he owned me."
 
''Not a bad person? He's a walking insult to everyone around him!'' Ariadne thought, remembering the night when he shattered their relationship by listing everything she did that he resented. ''Nobody treats me like that and walks away with it.''
 
"That prick does that with everyone. He acts like he's the crown prince or something, that anyone who isn't a superior must come under his unrelenting judgment and degradation. He's so condescending that he doesn't even respect most nobles like people, and outright ignores commoners."
 
It was amazing that such bitter words could emerge from a sunny smile. But Kaede's surprised, raised brows soon transformed into a sympathetic grin of her own.
 
"Well, if he gives you any trouble, please feel free to confide in me about it." Ariadne left the other half of her thoughts unsaid: ''A real scandal will send enough evil glares his way that even he'll flinch.''
 
For a moment, Kaede's parted lips seemed eager to take up her offer, but all that eventually came out was "thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
 
Ariadne shrugged off her rising disappointment. ''Don't be greedy'', she silently scolded herself.
 
If there was one thing Ariadne enjoyed more than riding, and wanted more than a renowned career in the Knights Phantom, it was the trust, recognition, and admiration of everyone around her. This went doubly so for the closest person to one of her few enemies -- those who had dared to scorn her. From expressions alone, she was certain that Kaede was steadily growing on all three.
 
Her boyfriend Parzifal once joked, amicably of course, that 'vanity' should have been her middle name. Her response was to ask him: "what's wrong with that?"
 
"So what's your impression of our world?"
 
"Fantastic, decadent, and liberal for its time." Kaede shrugged again: "haven't left the castle though, so I can't really say."
 
"To nobility, decadence is an expression of prestige, and as for liberal... Weichsel does pride itself for being one of the most forward-thinking of the Hyperion nations. I'm glad you like it though."
 
The smaller girl's response was a somewhat wry smile under her morning-chilled rosy cheeks.
 
"Is there anything you need? Like I mentioned before, don't hesitate to ask. There's no way a guy could anticipate everything a girl needs, even if he was the caretaker type." Ariadne didn't even need to append ''which that self-centered prick certainly isn't''.
 
Looking thoughtful for a minute, Kaede then glanced down at her blizzard-blue dress and pushed against its petticoat layers with her leg, bare except for snow-white stockings.
 
"Well... Pascal's clothes for me are all dresses. This is rather improper, but... could you help me get some pants?"
 
"Trousers for women are only worn as a part of military uniforms," Ariadne's answer came straightforward. "Outside that, it's considered religious impropriety. So no, I can't get you a set, sorry."
 
"What about a shorter skirt then?" The smaller girl eyed the hi-low short skirt that Ariadne wore, with its mid-thigh height front hem, exposing the tight breeches underneath that hugged her beautiful long legs.
 
The noblewoman in Ariadne felt scandalized, before she reminded herself again: ''she's from another world; different norms and customs and all.''
 
"In our world, it's proper modesty for a girl to keep both legs fully covered. Although -- let me think on that; I might be able to arrange something."
 
Kaede beamed; a cute smile that truly lit up her doll-like appearance.
 
For once, Ariadne thought it was kind of a shame: "do ladies in your world mostly wear pants?" She actually felt relieved when the smaller girl shook her head.
 
Their comparisons between the worlds continued on for a good hour, until Ariadne saw Parzifal on his daily run around the grounds and left to join him.
 
She still didn't believe that another realm, without the aid of magic, could advance to a more technological level of civilization. Sure, traders often boasted of engineering marvels from the Grand Republic of Samara and even brought back gadgets of non-magical construction to prove it. But Samarans merely looked human and held an unfair advantage: longevity rivaling the healthiest mages and memories of 'past lives'... more like fiendish witchcraft and whispers of the devil.




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It wasn't until near midday did Pascal telepathically call Kaede down to the dining hall for brunch, followed by dragging her off to the library.
"...What's that commoner girl doing here? This is a prestigious library!"


"You can read those tomes on your time all you want," he explained after sitting her down at a table with both ends piled high with books. "But while the sun is still up, you are going to help me research for this."
"Orders from the ''Runelord'', who else? Must have gotten her special treatment..."


From his chair facing her from the other side, Pascal slapped a piece of parchment down on the table.
"...She's still blushing about last night? Has she no shame?"


"Victory through ordered chaos and destruction of organizational, logistical, and political assets - Pandemonium Doctrine," Kaede read, before quickly scanning through the rest of the perfect-graded research proposal. Calling upon unknown military treatises from this world as well as the names of battles from recent wars, it suggested a recompilation of tactical and operational guidelines with an emphasis on speed, mobility, and fluidity by multiple simultaneous thrusts deep into enemy territory.
Kaede swore that the familiars' whole 'eyes and ears' concept made her senses more keen than necessary. She couldn't even concentrate with all the whispering that reached her ears.


''Blitzkrieg...? Not quite; this sounds more like something from the steppes. But...''
It was a Monday morning. However a few dozen people occupied the library nonetheless. They all looked like either senior students or research assistants working on a project. Most of these mages completely ignored her, but just a few gossiping mouths were more than enough to irritate.


"You're writing a new military doctrine?" She asked, her mind barely grasping the reality of the parchment in her hands. ''He's only nineteen!''
"Hey, familiar girl," a tall lady with long, golden-blond curls slammed her palms into the desk. "Tell your master to keep you on a shorter leash. You're an eyesore here by yourself. This is a nobles' academic sanctuary, not a whorehouse!"


"Many of the basic concepts my father already employed during the War of Imperial Succession fifteen years ago, the same war that earned him a hero's fame and the title Landgrave of Nordkreuz." Pascal actually had enough humility for a faint blush for once. "But I need as many field examples as possible. Since you are into reading all those boring history books, finding the right battle records for me to examine will be your task!"
Kaede flipped another page.


Kaede didn't mind studying. But sweeping across the table with dozens of dusty tomes piled in thick columns, her eyes were beginning to feel tired already.
"Are you listening, you ignorant commoner!?"


Kaede finally tilted her head and looked upwards with half-open eyes that barely cared:


"Pascal says you're a blithering idiot and that I should ignore you. I think I agree."


<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
The noblewoman looked like her face was about to spontaneously combust and explode.


Kaede went back to reading, or trying to...


"Listen here you little bitch. I don't care if your master reserved this desk. You get the hell out of here or I'm going to give you the whipping you deserve. Do I make myself clear?"


With three knocks on the thick mahogany door, Professor Albert opened it and lead the two inside.
"<Ah, that is Emilia de Morini.>" Pascal's voice popped into her head. "<Talk about pot calling kettle black. How does that tramp have the brain capacity to attack you when she can barely scrub two cells together for a passing grade?>"


Kaede first met Professor Albert von Marienfeld five minutes ago. With balding gray hair above onyx eyes as sharp as an eagle's, he had an imposing set of well-trimmed long mustaches. His build was lean with just a bit of belly, his thick arms a remnant of wrestling days long passed. One didn't even need to see him in uniform, impeccable and proudly decorated with medals including the Knight's Cross, to recognize that he was no mere scholar.
"<You're not helping, Pascal. And would you knock before tapping in like this?>"


He also glanced over Kaede with just one look and never bothered to introduce himself. His key words that ensured Pascal's attention was "the headmaster has returned and wishes to see you, ''now''."
"<Tell her that-->"


Which brought them all to this room, as large as the White House's Oval Office and furnished similarly: massive office table backed against huge windows, with intricate chairs and comfy couches atop rich rugs that covered the room's center. The hour was dusk, and the entire office was currently bathed in sunset orange.
"<Look, they may be afraid to challenge the ''Runelord'' to a duel, but if I keep it up after dropping your name and they don't relent, they're going to challenge me.>"


Not satisfied with his face being shadowed by the light from the windows, the headmaster also wore a bucket helmet on top of his gray robes. His outfit exposed not a patch of skin; even his hands were covered by black gloves.
"<So give them the beatdown you showed me. They will not even see it coming.>" Pascal sounded oddly proud.


Kaede found it a novel experience, to say the least.
''What, just like you didn't?'' Kaede amused herself before sending back:


"Sir von Moltewitz, welcome," a raspy voice emerged from behind the steel faceplate, like the sound of a man with an incurable throat disease. "Firstly, allow me to extend a belated congratulations for your recent promotion and knighthood."
"<Precisely. Most of them probably believe I'm just a pushover familiar girl who surprised you with a punch, and that the story got exaggerated somehow. Ariadne does harbor a very ''public'' grudge against you, after all. I'd prefer it if they kept thinking that way.>


"Thank you Sir."
"<Not bad at all.>


"Nevertheless, it distresses me to hear that you have freely altered the sacred familiar summoning ceremony beyond acceptable boundaries and called forth a foreign girl as a familiar."
Pascal's reply rang with approval. It made Kaede wonder if he was really being impulsive, or if he was just testing her.


"There is a first time for everything, Sir." Pascal reported back in military posture: hands back and chest high. "Our ancestors did not pioneer the art of familiars through tradition."
Sighing, Kaede stood up from her chair, piled her book plus three others into a small stack, and left without a word.


"Right you are. However, I hope you planned to face the same scrutiny and examination that they did."
''Whatever, not like I can concentrate here anyway.''


"What kind of examination, Sir?" Pascal couldn't sound less thrilled.
Without someone she was friendly with -- or at least growing friendly with -- Kaede didn't exactly feel comfortable around new people or places. With her books in hand, she ignored the noblewoman's departing screech and headed back to the dormitories.


"We will need to assess the humanity of your familiar, to determine that she brings no health risks or magical dangers from faraway lands, and to tag her for periodic checks to monitor the resulting long-term effects."
She felt the disdain of the librarian's glance as she walked past.


"I understand, Sir. But I can do that myself." His tone was on the verge of protesting.
''Yeah yeah, I'm just a commoner, foreigner at that. Get used to it, you prissy nobles.''
 
Kaede ''loved'' how they were talking about her -- not just in third person, but as though an experimental specimen -- when she stood within this very room:
 
"Headmaster Sir, don't I have rights as a human being for any say in this?"
 
The helmet leaned forward, and Kaede envisioned a skeletal lich behind it as a voice far colder than any human responded:
 
"No, Miss Familiar. You are neither a citizen of this country nor a holder of lawfully issued identification. Furthermore, you were summoned by a mage through his contractual ritual. In the eyes of our national laws, you are an non-entity who is only recognized as part of his responsibility. You are not property, but due to the lack of legal precedence, you are not far above it either."
 
Kaede felt like a trap door just opened below her. Her mind stopped all thinking as an impenetrable horror overwhelmed it.
 
Sitting back, the headmaster continued:
 
"As for you, Sir von Moltewitz, the answer is no. A third party validation is required per academic procedure."
 
Pascal cast a worried glance her way, before turning back to the shadowy grill that hid the headmaster's expression:
 
"I neither ''need'' nor care for academic recognition for this, Sir. In fact, I invoke my rights as a feudal noble to assert that she is my right and responsibility, Sir!"
 
For a minute, all signs of passing time stopped as the room froze in the wake of his challenge. Then, it was Professor Albert who cleared his throat from a rear corner of the room:
 
"Sir von Moltewitz, I suggest you reconsider. As you are still, in the eyes of the law, one year short of maturity, any repercussions for your actions will therefore fall under the responsibility of your father the Landgrave."
 
Pascal visibly flinched as his father was mentioned.
 
"I understand, Sir. But I must also take responsibility for my ward, to my ward, for what I have done to her." Pascal's unwavering tone snapped Kaede out of her daze, now staring at him with a gaping expression plastered on. "Having witnessed the procedures allowed on prisoners-of-war, I cannot allow the same to be forced upon her in good conscience!"
 
After being raised from the depths of despair, Kaede suddenly felt her sight growing blurry. Not only was Pascal backing his promise to the full before her, but he was, in his roundabout way, finally admitting and apologizing for the injustice he committed against her.
 
Surprisingly, it was Professor Albert who followed up in the contest of will between Pascal and the headmaster:
 
"With your permission, Sir, I would like to advise Sir von Moltewitz in performing the proper checks to ensure that no disaster befall us. I shall also shoulder any responsibility from his errors under my oversight."
 
Silence fell upon the room again, and Kaede could almost feel the shifting air pressure as two invisible forces dueled one another for supremacy. In the end, it was the headmaster who gave in first:
 
"Very well," he finalized in his raspy voice. "See to it that history does not repeat itself."
 
Once back in the hallway, Pascal asked his adviser with lingering disbelief still dangling from his words:
 
"Sir, this is the first time you have supported an independent action of mine in... anything!"
 
"Well, this is the first time you've shown a willingness to make amends with your own foolishness." Professor Albert sounded a touch surprised himself.
 
"What does the headmaster mean by history not repeating itself?"
 
"See, if you had done your research in human-to-human binding, you would have known that there is an unspoken taboo on pact magic between Hyperiens and Samarans. Because five hundred years ago, a successful Inner Sea trading magnate and his Samaran partner signed a binding magical contract, which somehow unleashed the epidemic known as the Great Eldritch Plague. The pandemic spread from mage to mage by mere proximity of spell auras, and killed a third of the noblemen across Hyperion before a cure was developed."
 
"But..."
 
"--You know as well as I do that taboo or not, the profit margins will continue to entice merchants in exploring reliable business between the east and west," Professor Albert continued after cutting Pascal off. "No sweeping plagues have shown themselves for three centuries, so that one precedence must have been an act of god or freak of nature. Headmaster Sir von Bloomberg mostly just wants an excuse to force his way into cutting-edge arcane research, which he can easily take credit for since you're both a minor and a student. Remember to do your homework thoroughly next time so you don't give someone else the opportunity to interfere."
 
"Nevertheless, thank you, Sir." Pascal answered, followed by a still-overwhelmed Kaede mirroring his gratitude.


The professor, however, never so much looked at her. After a nod of acknowledgment to Pascal, he walked off:
Kaede rather missed having Pascal's 'you-are-all-idiots' attitude shield her from the rest of the world. Sure, his disdainful eyes were annoying. But a roomful of nobles hitching their arrogant noses at her made that seem a paradise by comparison.
 
"I expect your preliminary report by tomorrow morning, Sir von Moltewitz. Assume nothing, confirm! And don't forget your first research project checkpoint next Friday!"




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Dinner included a gourmet shepherd's pie and chicken soup, which Kaede desperately ate to warm her soul back up.
After another lunch in the dining hall with Pascal, Kaede returned to his room to continue her research. She found three interesting historical references, along with two unexpected realizations as she browsed through the military history of the nation she lived in right now -- the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie.


She didn't even notice that Pascal's chicken broth was chowder-like, and still smelled distinctively of beer.
First of all, calling Rhin-Lotharingie an 'empire' was giving it far too much credit. The realm of Rhin-Lotharingie included four autonomous kingdoms -- Gleann Mòr to the north, Ceredigion to the west, Avorica to the southwest, and Garona to the south. Each of these kingdoms had their own monarch, who in turn swore an oath of allegiance to the Emperor. Sure, there were also many heartland duchies who did not answer to a King before the Emperor. However this layered feudal system which evolved from a tribal confederation left the realm extremely decentralized.


It wasn't until after they returned to his dorms when she regained the energy to breach the topic again:
It made Kaede wonder: just how much power did the 'Emperor' really have?


"Was that your first time meeting the headmaster?"
''This throne sounds like a pain for whoever inherits it,'' she concluded.


"No. I have met him quite a few times... for various things." Pascal didn't seem interested in explaining.
Perhaps that was the reason whenever the word 'Imperial' was used, it actually referred to the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea. That emperor, with the sufficiently fancy title of ''Imperator Augustus'', was a true autocrat who could summon legions with a handwave.


"Why does he wear all that in his office?" Sitting on the bed, Kaede shivered as she remembered that cold, raspy voice informing her that she had no more rights than mere property.
Second, it seems that before the various Lotharin cultures banded together to form their 'empire', they were constantly at the mercy of imperial expansion. Just as Ariadne said, the Lotharins had fought wars with the Imperium for centuries, and almost all of the major battles were won by the Imperial side. Yet no matter how much they tried, the Imperium could not stamp out Lotharin resistance, not even in the territories they conquered.


"Headmaster Sir von Bloomberg has not shown his face in years. Rumors have it that he caught leprosy from some magical experiment and was forced to retired from the army's research division."
It was as though magic made it more difficult to crush and integrate foreign peoples. This was no doubt aided by the fact that mages, including both their national heroes and the cultural elite, could live for well over a century.


"Still... uh, Pascal?"
One notable example of this was the historical 'Siege of Alisia', fought over the very ground this academy was built on. Here, the first Imperator of the Inner Sea Imperium besieged the hilltop fortress of an influential Lotharin chieftain. However a Lotharin archmage had activated a stone circle outside to create a gateway, which transported the majority of the tribespeople to an island in the middle of a huge lake. There, they escaped enslavement from the Imperium and founded the city of Alis Avern, which was now the capital of Rhin-Lotharingie.


"Yes?" He urged without looking at Kaede, as he continued to rush about the room, either collecting or setting up various pieces of equipment.
''Wait a minute,'' Kaede finally noticed. ''That's why the academy's name sounds familiar! The Battle of Alesia was when Julius Caesar crushed the uprising by the Celtic Gauls!''


"Thank you, for what you did. I really mean it."
Yet it seemed that the Romans of this world failed to subjugate the Celtic people, who later banded together to form their own 'empire'.


"You may want to hold onto that thought until ''after'' I run through all the checks, which will involve prodding some private places."
''I wonder what the connection is between this world and mine?'' Kaede puzzled. ''This can't just all be a coincidence?''


As soon as Kaede realized what he meant and looked away in embarrassment, Pascal knelt down on one knee before her. Gently taking her left hand and folding back her sleeve, he raised what looked like a small syringe before readying it against her skin. The needle entered her arm with a sting, and he soon began to draw blood from her.
Despite being engrossed in her own questions, Kaede never forgot to loop in Pascal whenever she found something he could use. Each time Pascal would tap her senses directly to read in. The convenience was undeniable. However it was also annoying, not to mention bizarre to turn pages for a pair of eyes that served as someone else's camera.


What came out was a crystal clear liquid, tinged only by a shade of pink.
It was worse when Pascal just dropped into her head without warning, often for no other reason than he felt her curiosity. By the third time, she finally had enough and gave Pascal an earful:


Unlike her, Pascal calmly finished the procedure and pulled out the needle before he froze.
"Would you ''at least'' ASK POLITELY before you reach through my eyes and ears!?" She fumed. "Or do you also enter girls' rooms without knocking and barging in while they're dressing like some scumbag pervert!?"


Both of them stared at the syringe that held transparent blood the color of cotton candy.
His reply was a defensive "all right, I will ask first in the future, I promise!"


"W-what does this mean?" Kaede heard her own voice from far away.
Apart from all the knowledge of a new world, there were also two other, more personal thoughts that kept bouncing to the fore of her mind:


"It means that you really are Samaran, or at least your body is. Only they have transparent blood. The color is supposed to be a crystal light red, but this is not far from the expected spectrum."
First of all, fantasy realms ''needed'' a magical version of the Internet, not to mention magical Google and Wikipedia. They could probably skip Magebook though, given how bad of an influence it was on society at large. Information processing and networking spells couldn't be ''that'' hard when Pascal managed to tap into her own biological sensory network this easily.


"And w-what does that mean?"
Secondly, she was rapidly becoming a shut-in, emerging only to retrieve food and books. She was conversing with barely more than one person per day. This was worrisome indeed.


After laying the syringe on a bedside table, Pascal leaned forward and clasped Kaede on both shoulders. His turquoise gaze pulled her rose-quartz eyes up, before his blank expression continued with earnest words:
<nowiki>*Knock, knock*</nowiki>


"The Samarans believe in reincarnation, born in this life after their last passed away. I cannot confirm or deny since I am not one of them, but they all claim to retain shards, fragments, images and memories of past lives. Some even claim that those memories are often not of this world."
The door then opened without waiting for a response. A petite young maid with short brown hair backed into the room with a large cart in tow. She was the same one who often served Pascal in the dining halls.


Her mind stood still even at the green light, refusing to process the implications of his words.
She almost dropped the handle when she turned around.


"A-and that means...?"
"I'm sorry Miss. I thought Sir Pascal was in a class right now. I d-didn't actually expect anyone here."


"If what they claim is correct, then Kaede, I did not turn you into a girl. Rather than transform, my familiar spell may have created a humanoid form which hijacked a soul departing from another world. Kaede, it is likely that -- in that other world, you died."
Sitting on the bed in an orchid-pink dress, Kaede put down her book and returned a welcoming smile.


Stunned, she could only shake her head slowly, eyes pointing but not seeing.
"Don't worry about it. My name is Kaede, what's yours?"


"I am sorry to tell you this, Kaede. But it is a truth that we must face. It would certainly explain why your soul was naturalized anew in our world, rather than coming here in an alien body. Perhaps it was part of the Holy Father's plans all along. Perhaps you were meant to live as a girl."
"M-marina," she bowed. "I'm one of the maids responsible for the male dorms, Miss Kaede."


By that point, her gaping expression already stilled into a delicate statue. Pascal figured this was as good a time to begin as any, even as a faint grin tugged at his inexpressible lips.
"Just Kaede is fine. It's not like I'm one of those noblemen."


...
"Ah, I've heard... that you were summoned from afar... as a familiar."


Thirty minutes and an unknown number of observations and measurements later, her head finally started cranking again:
"That's right." Kaede tried not to make the maid Marina any more nervous. However all she managed to keep up was a wry smile. "Do you normally only clean when nobody is here?"


"That can't be right! I don't just remember fragments; I have ''all'' my prior memories. Besides that doesn't explain how my bow and clothes got through!"
"Yes!" Marina nodded a bit too eagerly. "The nobles do not appreciate seeing us servants at work, so we try to be discreet whenever possible."


Pascal shrugged as he stirred a potion vial that included several strands of her hair.
Thinking back to her dining hall experiences, Kaede remembered that Pascal never even acknowledged, let alone thanked, the servants who brought his food. Nor, for that matter, did most other nobles she saw, except...


"Don't jump to a conclusion just because it removes blame from you!" She glared, seething. Being told that she had died was another shock she could have gone without this day.
"Ariadne seemed friendly with you all though."


"I did not say it is what happened. I merely said it was a likely scenario." His focus was still concentrated on the vial, his poker face impenetrable.
Marina's lips finally curled upwards with a hint of joy.


Kaede huffed and collapsed back into the bed.
"Dame Ariadne is one of the few nobles who do greet us with friendliness." Then, sighing: "unfortunately, she's a very rare minority. Most of them pretend we don't exist."


"Do not bother getting too comfortable. I need an urine sample from you soon," Pascal noted, only to receive a groan in response.
"Stupid nobles with their oversized noses and squinty eyes need to learn some respect," Kaede lashed out at the opulent room she stayed in. Her gaze then returned to find Marina smiling back reluctantly, as though she was in agreement wasn't brave enough to express it.


Sitting back up, Kaede pouted towards the corner closet door that held the heavy chamber pot. Leaning against the wall next to it, there was now a pile of treated wood, packed cotton, and velvet fabrics.
However, the maid's expression soon returned to one of sympathy and worry intermixed with curiosity:


"Is that..."
"I also heard you gave Mister... I mean Sir Pascal a beating? Did your master punish you any further than cutting meals? He was in a foul mood even as recently as yesterday morning, yet he seemed all better today."


"Materials for fabricating a bed? Yes. I retrieved it from the quartermaster this morning," Pascal commented as he scrutinized the vial's color change. "Although, since you have taken all my free time, and I have a busy week ahead, especially with the project checkpoint on Friday..." he looked over with a Cheshire grin: "I think you should just get used to warming my bed."
Kaede's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs for a second.


If looks could kill, Pascal wouldn't have left even a speck of dust.
''I swear, how do nobles keep any secrets from these servants?''


Kaede realized that perhaps the greatest struggle of her new life was wrestling with the daily urge to beat him senseless.
"Yeah, a surprise kick to the crotch and he couldn't even defend himself, imagine that," Kaede lied with a totally unapologetic grin. "And not really, Pascal has actually respected me more since then. Goes to show that we can't just take things lying down or these nobles will just see us as useless. We have to push back whenever we get the chance!"


For a brief second, Kaede thought Marina's eyes glittered in amazement. Within minutes, they were chatting like friends, bonding through the power of complaints.


Grumbling to others wasn't something Kaede used to do much. In fact, she hadn't even realized that since becoming a girl, she had become far whinier, albeit for good reasons. Nevertheless, it quickly bridged the distance before Marina was comfortable enough to ask her first personal question:


<noinclude>
"Kaede, do you miss your home back in Samara? I mean, I'm guessing by your appearance that you are Samaran?"
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| Forward to [[Daybreak:Volume_1_Chapter_6|Chapter 6]]
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</noinclude>


Kaede's grin froze as a torrent of nostalgic images flooded in: her best friend's congratulations for being accepted to Tokyo U, her clubmates chatting after practice, her parents welcoming her home...


"''I'msorrythatwasinappropriateofme''!" Marina blurted out as a tear slid down Kaede's cheeks.


===Chapter 6 - A Peaceful Day===
The latter girl shook her head. She felt melancholic and glassy-eyed, but still forced herself to wear a wistful smile.


With his top button on, Pascal put the medal around his neck and pinned it into place, then flipped down his collars. Adjusting it carefully, he made sure the gleaming black Knight's Cross outlined in white gold was perfectly centered. Staring back at the dresser mirror, he examined the dashing grin that looked back at himself before giving it a nod of approval.
"Yes, I do miss home. I wish I could return, but I can't. So there's no point worrying over it."


He spun his heels around in their leather boots before walking around the bed.
She didn't even bother correcting Marina's guess about her origins. There just wasn't a point anymore.


Today was the first time that Pascal saw Kaede's sleeping face. Even inside the warm dormitory keep, the small girl snuggled into the thick comforter with only her head exposed. Turned to the side, her canary-white hair scattered across her gentle sleeping face, peaceful except for the dark outlines under her eyes.
Marina had to return to her work soon afterwards. Meanwhile Kaede rediscovered her amusement at what seemed to be a magical vacuum cleaner powered by mana-storing crystals. Not being a mage, Marina couldn't actually turn the appliance on or off, only manipulate its intake controls.


Another stab of guilt sunk into his chest, but Pascal steeled himself and shook her through the bedcovers.
The same cleaner also had an enchanted nozzle for cleaning chamber pots.


There was no response, so he did it again.
Whatever modern impressions Kaede had towards the role, being a ''medieval'' maid, at least, was not a job that she envied at all.
 
"Come on, wake up already," he called after the fifth time, finally eliciting a response:
 
"Uhhhhnnnnn?"
 
"I said wake up."
 
Two small hands emerged from the bedcovers to rub her eyes.
 
"Talk about a heavy sleeper..."
 
"C-couldn't give me a few more minutes?" Kaede yawned as her thin arms stretched out, her eyes still closed. "I couldn't sleep till like three-something..."
 
"Sleep earlier then. I have already given you leeway today. You need to wake up at the same time as everyone else when I go campaigning."
 
Her rose-quartz eyes finally opened, highlighting the shadows below them as her cherry lips formed a scowl.
 
Pascal slowly waved his hand over her while he whispered the ''Refreshen'' spell. Her countenance instantly grew less pale, the bags under her eyes disappearing while a healthy tinge of pink returned to her cheeks.
 
Maybe he overdid it a little. Kaede looked like she was sporting an disgruntled blush.
 
''Kind of cute, actually,'' Pascal smiled.
 
"Better. Now, dress up and remember your research tasks today. Get up earlier tomorrow if you want breakfast -- I cannot wait any longer; morning practice in fifteen. Anyhow, I will see you at lunch."
 
With that, Pascal went straight out the door.




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"...What's that commoner girl doing here? This is a prestigious library!"
Pascal's last course of the day was held in the second drill hall. It was more of a stone amphitheater, but with a massive stage ringed by only three meager rows of benches. ''Advanced Spellsword Combat'' was an elective class open to upperclassmen and offered every season, so at the moment only thirty-one cadets stood in loose formation.
 
"Orders from the ''Runelord'', who else? Must have gotten her special treatment..."
 
"...She's still blushing? Has she no shame?"
 
Kaede swore that the familiars' whole 'eyes and ears' concept made her senses more keen than necessary. She couldn't even concentrate with all the whispering that reached her ears.
 
It was a Monday morning, but a few dozen people occupied the library nonetheless. They all looked like senior students if not research assistants working on a project. Most of these mages completely ignored her, but just a few gossiping mouths were more than enough to irritate.
 
"Hey, familiar girl," a tall lady with long, golden-blond curls slammed her palms into the desk. "Tell you master to keep you on a shorter leash. You're an eyesore here by yourself. This is a nobles' academic sanctuary, not a whorehouse!"
 
Kaede flipped another page.


"Are you listening, you ignorant commoner!?"
It was also the only 100% practical course in the academy. Books, parchment, and ink weren't even allowed here. The only acceptable tools of teaching and learning were spells and swords. The usual homework was recovering from injuries, which understandably made students strive for perfection.


Kaede finally tilted her head and looked upwards with half-open eyes that barely cared:
As Professor Albert's assistant, Pascal was not required to attend a class that Albert did not teach. However, since Pascal was planning on being a career military officer, he seized upon the opportunity to sharpen his combat skills. Sure, a commanding officer did not need to be a champion, for they relied on brains and not brawn to lead the men. Nevertheless, it would be embarrassing if a mere lieutenant could break into his future headquarters and defeat him.


"Pascal says you're a blithering idiot and that I should ignore you. I think I agree."
"As we've covered before, the most commonly practiced combat magic style in Hyperion is Aura Magic. It is utilized for its multiple stances that shift and adapt to circumstances, as well as high channeling speed which allows rapid mana transfer and spellshaping. However, contrary to many claims, the popularity of Aura Magic is not an indicator of superiority."


The noblewoman looked like her face was about to spontaneously combust and explode.
It was difficult to remember that Duke Gaston de La Conde was actually one of the most powerful men in Rhin-Lotharingie. It wasn't because he looked ordinary, as despite being just short of old age, Gaston was a dandy who only ever dressed in silver-lined white clothes and sported a meticulously curled mustache. His long face could be described as dignified and moderately handsome, but far more memorable were his wavy brown curls and a deep, violet gaze.


Kaede went back to reading, or trying to...
However, even though Gaston was an Oriflamme Paladin and one of the top commanders in the Rhin-Lotharingie military, he spent most of his time teaching students art and dueling while leaving his administrative duties to his mistress Cosette.


"Listen here you little bitch, I don't care if your master reserved this desk. You get the hell out of here or I'm going to give you the whipping you deserve, do I make myself clear?"
"For example: Runic Magic remains a favorite in the Kingdom of Gleann Mòr, not to mention our Northmen neighbors in the Greater Jarldom of Skagen. Its capacity for precast and contingent spells that may be activated in a second cannot be underestimated -- as many of you learned the hard way from Sir Pascal." Gaston smirked as he turned to the young man in question.


"<u>Ah, that is Lisel von Straussen.</u>" Pascal's voice popped into her head. "<u>Talk about pot calling kettle black, that tramp of a golddigger has the brain capacity to attack you when she can barely scrub two cells together for a passing grade?</u>"
"The key to winning is found not just in practice and experience, but a thorough understanding of the other styles' capabilities. Runic Magic may bring a large cache of prepared spells that may be dumped into battle in an instant, but its glyphs only activate by touch. This hampers its offensive potential and allows a skilled Aura Magic user to keep his distance until he can level the playing field. Sir Pascal, Mister Moreau, would you be gracious enough to demonstrate."


"<u>You're not helping, Pascal; and could you knock before tapping in like this?</u>"
Duke Gaston and the rest of the class quickly left the platform for the benches. Only Pascal and the fiery-haired Reynaud remained on stage. Both of them had agreed heartily to the professor's request, but neither of them looked thrilled as they confronted the another.


"<u>Tell her that--</u>"
"What's wrong, ''Runelord'', cold feet in the face of superiority?" Reynaud smirked a savage grin as he lowered the mass of his already short stature.


"<u>Look, they may be afraid to challenge the ''Runelord'' to a duel, but if I keep it up after dropping your name and them still not relenting, they're going to challenge me.</u>"
His weapons of choice were a wooden kukri in each hand, though one was longer than the other and could almost be considered a falcata. He also wore an open helmet and a brigandine vest for protection, just like every other student including his opponent.


"<u>So give them the beatdown you showed me. They will not even see it coming.</u>" Pascal sounded oddly proud.
Pascal meanwhile didn't even bother to respond. His steely gaze met the challenge with an imperturbable poker face. He held his wooden estoc in an aggressive fencing stance -- the blade raised above his right shoulder, its tip pointed forward and ready to strike.


''What, just like you did?'' Kaede amused herself before sending back:
"You may begin!" The Duke's words rang like a starting bell.


"<u>Precisely. Most of them probably believe I'm just a pushover familiar girl who surprised you with a punch that got over-exaggerated or something -- Ariadne does harbor a very ''public'' grudge against you after all. I'd prefer it if they kept thinking that way.</u>
Pascal leaped forward and charged Reynaud without delay. He stretched out his left hand with fingers extended, activating his extra-dimensional storage glove as four rune-engraved pebbles materialized between his fingers. These runes activated a split second later, surrounding Pascal with the invisible aura of his anti-projectile ''Repulsion Field'', five rotating turquoise shields of his auto-blocking ''Spellshield Fortress'', and the unseen plates of his weightless ''Barrier Armor'', which grew translucent as the magic-resistant ''Barrier Guard'' layered onto it.


"<u>Not bad at all.</u> Pascal's reply rang with approval, and Kaede wondered if he was really being impulsive, or if he was just testing her.
With four powerful defensive enhancements set in the blink of an eye, Pascal could focus his attention completely on offense. He thrust his estoc towards Reynaud's torso. His first stab was light and aimed just beneath the neck. But as expected, the faster redhead dodged it by stepping back and shifting his weight to one side.


Sighing, Kaede stood up from her chair, piled her book plus three others into a small stack, and left without a word.
Pascal withdrew his weapon immediately and gripped the estoc's handle with both hands. He stabbed forth again, this time for real and aiming at Reynaud's center torso. However Reynaud twisted his body to one side and spun as though he was dancing. The weapon slid past his opponent's armor just millipaces short of contact.


''Whatever, not like I can concentrate in here anyway.''
But this time Reynaud did not stay on the defensive, as he used his rotation to build momentum which he transferred into a slash from one wooden kukri, followed by the other. Yet with Pascal's layered, magical defenses in place, the two short blades harmlessly bounced off the automated guard of a hovering spellshield.


Without someone she was friendly with -- or at least getting friendly with -- Kaede didn't exactly feel comfortable around new people or places. With her books in hand, she headed back to the dormitories, ignoring the noblewoman's departing screech.
Taking the opportunity, Pascal retracted his estoc and stabbed again, this time angled towards Reynaud's right and beneath the shoulder. His wooden blade was almost horizontal as he soon transitioned the stab into a diagonal, cutting motion. His target was a common weak spot just beneath the armpit.


She felt the disdain of the librarian's glance as she walked past.
Yet once again Reynaud proved that he was both faster and more agile. The short redhead pivoted his leftover momentum to fall away from Pascal's strike, where he transitioned into a roll before bouncing back to his feet. Before Pascal could follow up with another attack, Reynaud muttered his favorite spell and flashed to the other side of the platform in a bolt of lightning, literally.


''Yeah yeah, I'm just a commoner, foreigner at that. Get used to it, you prissy nobles.''
"''Armor Aura Burst!''" The redhead cried from his new spot, sending out a pressurized blast of air as he used his aura stance switch to conjure an invisible suit of magic armor to layer over his brigandine vest. He then crossed his twin kukris before his eyes.


Kaede rather missed having Pascal's ''you're-all-idiots'' attitude shield them from the rest of the world. Sure, his downcast eyes were annoying. But a roomful of nobles hitching their arrogant noses at her made that seem a paradise by comparison.
Meanwhile Pascal activated the second four enhancements of his usual defensive array, followed by scattering an entire bag of runic pebbles across the arena. With the field under his control, he dashed forward again, his estoc raised and ready for another two-handed thrust.


However before he could even get close, Reynaud unleashed the crimson magic he had pumped into his practice weapons with a set of Ancient Draconic words:


"''Scourge Catalyst Fragmentation Dispel!''"


<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
A four-part spell with multiple advanced spellwords normally took up to a minute to cast. However, ''Burst''-mode Aura Magic was known for having the fastest channeling speed of all spellcasting styles. It did had a high tendency to overwhelm the nerve conduits and leave the body numb though, and prolonged use could even lead to temporary or permanent paralysis.


The X-shaped fire blast sucked in air like a black hole as it soared towards Pascal. His ''Repulsion Field'' popped like a bubble under a gargantuan hammer. One of his turquoise shields then met the attack, breaking into three pieces under its power but shattering the offensive spell.


Yet instead of dispersing, Reynaud's dispel fragmented into four parts that pierced into Pascal's translucent armor. The entire suit glowed as ''Barrier Guard'' fought to maintain the defense, only to collapse into a kaleidoscopic burst of mana less than two seconds later. Not done with its job, the shards of fiery-red magic then penetrated Pascal himself.


After another lunch in the dining hall with Pascal, Kaede returned to his room to continue her research. She found three interesting examples in history already, and each time Pascal tapped her senses directly to read in. The convenience was undeniable, but it was also annoying, not to mention bizarre to turn pages for a pair of eyes that served as someone else's camera.
The Runelord staggered. Steam began to pour from his sizzling body as hostile antimagic crashed against his own mana. His second set of four self-enhancements backfired, fueling the hostile incursion as ''Elemental Body of Earth'', ''Shift Impulse'', ''Mental Clarity'', and ''Metabolic Boost'' transformed into volatile mana. His speed broke as his teeth clenched down in pain.


Still, thrice was enough. By the third time, she finally told Pascal to ask first before reaching through her eyes and ears.
A second lightning-transformation put Reynaud just behind the distracted Pascal. Coming out in a spin and infused with the ward-piercing ''Negation'' spell, his dual kukris struck the Runelord like twin rotor blades, bringing the latter to his knees.


His reply was a defensive "all right, I promise!"
"Stop!" The Duke called out as he stepped back onto the stage. "Thank you, Sir Pascal. Mister Moreau, please escort him to..."


In the meantime, two other thoughts kept bouncing back to the fore of her mind:
Kneeling on all fours and panting in pain did not stop Pascal from cutting in:  


Conclusion #1: Fantasy realms ''needed'' a magical version of the Internet, not to mention magical Google and Wikipedia. They could probably skip Magebook though. Information processing and networking spells couldn't be ''that'' hard when Pascal managed to tap into her own biological sensory network this easily.
"I am fine, Your Grace!"


Conclusion #2: She was rapidly becoming a shut-in, emerging only to retrieve food, books, plus fresh air, and conversing with barely more than one person per day. This was worrisome.
Duke Gaston nodded before turning back to the class:


<nowiki>*Knock, knock*</nowiki>
"The four-part spell Mister Moreau just used is the bane of Runic Magic users' tendency to over-enhance themselves. ''Dispel'' is your classic antimagic spell. ''Catalyst'' allows it to push through multiple defenses in an increasingly-powerful cascading chain reaction. ''Fragmentation'' gives it a chance to break past even the most powerful dispel-warding barriers. And ''Scourge'' not only boosts penetration power, but destabilizes the target's own mana to burn their bodies.


The door then opened without waiting for a response. A petite young maid with short brown hair, the same who often served Pascal in the dining hall, backed into the room with a large cart in tow.
"Remember that a spellsword relies neither on blasting the opponent nor overwhelming them through pure martial prowess, but by a synergistic combination of arcana, steel, and tricks," the Duke emphasized. "''Barrier Armor'' plus steel will reduce most physical attacks to mere bruises. Infused ''Guard'', ''Resistance'', and other defensive magic diminish most hostile spellfire down to tolerable nuisances. This goes doubly so for alchemy or enchantment spells which a mage's innate mana may outright repulse."


She almost dropped it when she turned around.
The Professor then scanned his students before concluding:


"I'm sorry Miss, the third years are taking a required course right now. I didn't actually expect anyone here."
"To score a decisive hit, you must be flexible, you must be adaptive. Think on your feet and respond accordingly, let magic be your fist and bring home victory!"
 
Sitting on the bed in an orchid-pink dress, Kaede put down her book and returned a welcoming smile.


"Don't worry about it. My name is Kaede, what's yours?"
"Now," Gaston followed by raising his arm into the air with a proud grin. Six quarterstaves lifted themselves from the ground and began to hover in a formation around him. "How many of you think you can land a hit on me?"


"Marina," she bowed. "I'm one of the two maids responsible for the third year students, Miss Kaede."
Five people raised their hands. A slightly winded Reynaud was one of those who did.


"Just Kaede is fine, not like I'm one of those noblemen."
"Good." The Duke smiled. "You cannot win if you're hesitant to unsheathe your blade, especially when facing a superior adversary. Your assignment today, class, is to form groups of five and try to land a hit on me. Anyone who succeeds will automatically receive a perfect grade."


"Ah, I've heard... that you were summoned from afar... as a familiar."


"That's right." Kaede tried not to make the maid Marina any more nervous, but all she managed to keep up was a wry smile. "Do you normally only clean when nobody is here?"
...


"Yes!" Marina nodded bit too eagerly. "The nobles do not appreciate seeing us common servants, so we try to be discrete whenever possible."
Thinking back to her dining hall experiences, Kaede remembered that Pascal never even acknowledged, let alone thanked, the servants who brought his food. Nor, for that matter, did most other nobles she saw, except...
"Ariadne seemed friendly with you all though."
Marina's lips finally curled upwards with a hint of joy.
"Miss von Zimmer-Manteuffel is one of the few nobles who do greet us with friendliness." Then, sighing: "unfortunately, she's a very rare minority; most of them pretend we don't exist."
"Stupid nobles with their raised oversized noses and squinty downcast eyes need to learn some respect," Kaede lashed out at opulent room she stayed in. Her gaze then returned to find Marina grinning back in silent and total agreement.
However, the maid's expression soon returned to one of sympathy and worry intermixed with curiosity:
"I also heard you gave Mister... I mean Sir von Moltewitz a beating? Did your master punish you any further than cutting meals? He was in a fouler mood than I've ever seen him yesterday morning, yet all better today."
Kaede's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs for a second. ''I swear, how do nobles keep any secrets from these servants?''
"Yeah, a surprise kick to the crotch and he couldn't even defend himself, imagine that," Kaede lied with a totally unapologetic grin. "And not really, Pascal actually respected me more since then. Goes to show that we can't just take things lying down or these nobles will just see us as useless; have to push back whenever appropriate!"
For a brief second, Kaede thought Marina's eyes glittered in amazement. Within minutes, they were chatting like friends, gained through the power of complaining.
Marina had to return to her maid work soon after, and Kaede found herself deeply amused by what seemed to be a magical vacuum cleaner powered by ether-storing crystals. Not being a mage, Marina couldn't actually turn the appliance on or off, only manipulate its intake controls.
The same cleaner also had an enchanted nozzle for cleaning chamber pots.
Whatever modern thoughts Kaede had on the role, being a ''medieval'' maid, at least, was not a job that Kaede envied at all.
<nowiki>----- * * * -----</nowiki>
Pascal's last course of the day was held in the second drill hall. It was more of a stone amphitheater, but with a massive stage ringed by only two meager rows of benches. ''Advanced Spellsword Combat'' was an elective class open to upperclassmen and offered every semester, so at the moment only thirty-two noble cadets stood in formation.
It was also the only 100% practical course in the academy. Books, parchment, and quills weren't even allowed here. The only acceptable tools of teaching and learning were spells and swords.
"As you all know, the most commonly practiced combat magic style in Hyperion is Aura Magic, utilized for its multiple stances that shift and adapt to circumstances, as well as high spell acceleration which allows rapid ether transfer and spellcasting. However, contrary to many claims, the popularity of Aura Magic is not a sign of superiority. For example: Runic Magic may be a favorite of the barbaric Northmen, but its capacity for precast and contingent spells that may be activated in a second cannot be underestimated -- as many of you learned the hard way from Sir von Moltewitz."
Contrary to both his name and occupation, Professor Sir Siegfried von Kirchner looked anything but martial. At five-foot-two, he was shorter than most girls, and his clean-shaven, chubby cheeks left traits of a boyish appearance despite being in his fifties. But the Knight's Cross he wore was also set on an eight-pointed starburst -- the 'Twin-Starred Cross' which represented the highest distinction of battlefield valor in the Kingdom. As a master of multiple combat styles, anyone who underestimated his whimsical forest-green eyes were in for a painful lesson.
"...The key to winning lay not just in practice and experience, but a thorough understanding of the other styles' capabilities. Runic Magic may bring a large cache of prepared spells that may be dumped into battle in an instant, but its glyphs only activate and target by touch. This hampers its offensive potential and allows a skilled Aura Magic user to keep his distance until he can level the playing field. Sir von Moltewitz, Mister von Witzig, would you be gracious enough to demonstrate."
Professor von Kirchner and the rest of the class quickly left the platform for the benches, leaving just Pascal and the fiery-haired Reynald on stage. Both of them had agreed heartily to the professor's request, but neither of them looked thrilled as they confronted one another.
"What's wrong, ''Runelord'', cold feet in the face of superiority?" Reynald smirked a savage grin as he lowered the mass of his already short, five-foot-four stature even further, one wooden kukri held in each hand.
Pascal never even bothered to respond; his steely gaze met the challenge with an imperturbable poker face. His wooden courtblade -- a heavy rapier -- held in a classic fencing stance.
"You may begin!" Professor von Kirchner's crisp words rang like the bell.
Leaping forward, Pascal charged Reynald without delay, his blade thrusting forward and slashing downwards. At the same time, his left hand stretched out with fingers extended, triggering a contingency effect as four rune-engraved pebbles materialized into his hand from the extra-dimensional storage glove. They activated less than a second later, surrounding Pascal with the invisible aura of his anti-projectile ''Repulse Field'', five rotating turquoise shields of his auto-blocking ''Spellshield Fortress'', and the unseen plates of his weightless ''Barrier Armor'', which grew translucent as the counterspell-warding ''Barrier Guard'' layered onto it.
With four powerful defensive enhancements set in the blink of an eyes, Pascal could focus his attention completely on offense. But after three leaps back which avoided Pascal's repeated attacks, Reynald flashed to the other side of the platform in a bolt of lightning, literally.
"Armor Aura Burst!" the redhead called, sending out a depressurized wave of air as he used his aura stance switch to conjure an invisible suit of magic armor. Reynald then crossed his twin kukris before his eyes, while Pascal activated the second four buffs of his usual defensive array, followed by scattering an entire bag of runic pebbles across the arena.
With the field under his control, Pascal charged again. Reynald then unleashed the crimson magic pumped into his practice weapons with a set of Ancient Draconic words: "Scorch-Ether, Catalyst Fragmentation Dispel!"
Burst-mode Aura Magic was known for having the highest spell acceleration of all casting styles, but it had a high tendency to overwhelm the nerve conduits and leave the body numb. Prolonged use could even lead to temporary and permanent paralysis.
The X-shaped fire blast sucked in atmosphere like a black hole as it soared towards Pascal. His ''Repulse Field'' popped like a bubble under a gargantuan hammer. One of his turquoise shields then met the attack, breaking into three pieces under its power but shattering the offensive spell. Yet instead of dispersing, Reynald's dispel fragmented into four parts that pierced into Pascal's translucent armor. The entire suit glowed as ''Barrier Guard'' fought to maintain the defense, but collapsed in futility less than two seconds later. Not done with its job, the shards of fiery-red magic then penetrated Pascal himself.
The Runelord staggered. Steam began to pour from his sizzling body as hostile antimagic crashed against his ether network. His second set of four self-buffs backfired, fueling the hostile incursion as ''Elemental Body of Earth'', ''Shift Impulse'', ''Sensory Clarity'', and ''Metabolic Boost'' transformed into volatile ether. His speed broke as his teeth clenched down in pain.
A second lightning-transformation put Reynald just behind the distracted Pascal. Coming out in a spin, his dual kukris struck the Runelord like twin rotor blades, bringing the latter to his knees.
"Stop!" the professor called out. "Thank you, Sir von Moltewitz. Mister von Witzig, please escort him to..."
Kneeling on all fours and panting in pain did not stop Pascal from cutting in:
"I am fine, Sir."
Professor von Kirchner nodded before turning back to the class:
"The four-part spell Mister von Witzig just used is the bane of Runic Magic users' tendency to over-buff themselves. ''Dispel'' is your classic antimagic spell, and ''Catalyst'' allows it to push through multiple defenses in an increasingly-powerful cascading chain reaction. ''Fragmentation'' gives it a chance to break past even the most powerful dispel-warding barriers, and ''Scorch-Ether'' not only boosts penetration power, but also makes certain that the final impact leaves a stunning impression."
"To win, you must be flexible, you must be adaptive. Think on your feet and respond accordingly, and Aura Magic will deliver your punches and bring home victory!"
...


An hour later near the end of class, after Pascal properly restored his health, Reynald accosted him again in the benches:
An hour later and near the end of class, Reynaud accosted Pascal again after both of them restored their health.


"Up for a real duel that isn't pre-scripted this time? Doesn't exactly please me any to win a fixed match."
"Up for a real duel that isn't pre-scripted this time? Doesn't exactly please me any to win a fixed match."
Line 519: Line 299:
"Of course," Pascal grunted as he stood back up, still sore all over. "You know I could have easily dodged that blast."
"Of course," Pascal grunted as he stood back up, still sore all over. "You know I could have easily dodged that blast."


"We'll see," Reynald sneered back.
"We'll see," Reynaud sneered back.




Line 529: Line 309:
"So... where's my bed?" Kaede didn't even bother taking her eyes off her book.
"So... where's my bed?" Kaede didn't even bother taking her eyes off her book.


"In Phantasia," Pascal grumbled before climbing into bed, snuggling just close enough without touching her. "Ugh my back still hurts; that Reynald is unnaturally good at dueling... you think someone stupid and gullible enough to fall for every propaganda piece would not be a spellsword genius."
"In Phantasia," Pascal grumbled before climbing into bed bare-chested, snuggling just close enough without touching her. "Ugh, my back still hurts. That Reynaud is unnaturally good at dueling... you think someone stupid and gullible enough to fall for every propaganda piece would not be a spellsword genius."


"His holiness is fair," she replied, her casual eyes still reading. "With one noodly appendage he giveth, with the other he taketh away."
"His Holiness is fair," she replied, her casual eyes still reading. "With one noodly appendage he giveth, with the other he taketh away."


Pascal just stared at her for a few seconds, then waved the light off:
Pascal just stared at her for a few seconds, then waved the light off:
Line 539: Line 319:
Sighing, Kaede pulled down the bookmark string, closed the tome, and laid it on her bedside table.
Sighing, Kaede pulled down the bookmark string, closed the tome, and laid it on her bedside table.


''One night he'll learn to ask first.''
''Why can't he learn to ask first?''


...Like that, another day passed in the new world. The rest of the week went by the same way, except after Friday's afternoon chat-break, Kaede was sure she could now consider Marina a new friend, therefore averting or at least delaying her 'shut-in' crisis.
And just like that, another day passed in the new world. The rest of the week went by the same way, except after Friday's afternoon chat-break, Kaede was sure she could now consider Marina a new friend. This was an important milestone to Kaede, as it averted, or at least delayed, her fear of becoming a 'shut-in'.




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"You ''still'' haven't managed it?" The new chief groundskeeper snarled, a yeoman -- commoner of the first class -- mage hired only two weeks ago to fill a vacancy left when his predecessor died in an accident.
"You ''still'' haven't managed it?" The new chief groundskeeper snarled. He was a yeomen, a 'middle-class commoner' capable of using magic, who was hired only two weeks ago to fill a vacancy left when his predecessor died in an accident.


"I'm sorry," Marina trembled, her eyes nailed to his feet. "Kaede... his familiar girl is in his room all day. It's hard to do it without being noticed, so I'm trying to gain her trust."
"I-I'm sorry," Marina trembled, her eyes nailed to his feet. "K-Kaede... his familiar girl is in his room all day. It's hard to do without being noticed. I'm trying to gain her trust."


"Well, you have one more week. If we miss the deadline and our lord is punished by the Emperor, it will be on your hands girl. I certain do not wish to be deemed a worthless security risk by that squad of killers in town," he warned before departing from the shadowy alcove where he cornered her.
"Well, you have one more week. If we miss the deadline and our lord is punished by the Imperator, it will be on your hands, girl. I certainly do not wish to be deemed worthless and a security risk by that squad of killers in town." He warned before departing from the shadowy alcove where he had cornered her.





Latest revision as of 03:50, 2 January 2022

Chapter 6 - A Peaceful Day

Pascal affixed his shirt's top button, before wrapping the medal around his neck and tightening it into place. He then flipped down his collars and adjusted it carefully. He made sure the gleaming black Knight's Cross outlined in white gold was perfectly centered. Staring back at the dresser mirror, he examined the dashing grin that reflected back before giving it a nod of approval.

He spun on his leather boots' heels before walking around the bed.

Today was the first time that Pascal had seen Kaede's sleeping face. Even inside the warmth of the dormitory keep, the girl snuggled into the thick comforter with only her head exposed. Turned to the side, her snowy hair scattered across her gentle sleeping face. Her expression was serene and peaceful, except for the dark outlines beneath her eyes.

Another stab of guilt sunk into his chest, but Pascal steeled himself and shook her through the bedcovers.

There was no response, so he did it again.

"Come on, wake up already," he called after the fifth time, finally eliciting a response:

"Uhhhhnnnnn?"

"I said wake up!"

Two small hands emerged from the bedcovers to rub her eyes.

"Talk about a heavy sleeper..."

"C-couldn't give me just a few more minutes?" Kaede yawned as her thin arms stretched out while her eyes remained closed. "I couldn't sleep till like three-something..."

"Sleep earlier then. I have already given you leeway today. You need to wake up at the same time as everyone else when I go campaigning."

Her pink eyes finally opened, highlighting the shadows below them as her cherry lips formed a scowl.

Pascal slowly waved his hand over her while he whispered a Refreshen spell. Her countenance instantly grew less pale. The bags under her eyes disappeared while a healthy tinge of pink returned to her cheeks.

Maybe he overdid it a little. Kaede looked like she was sporting a disgruntled blush.

Kind of cute, actually, Pascal smiled.

"Better. Now, dress up and remember your research tasks today. Get up earlier tomorrow if you want breakfast. I cannot wait any longer; have morning practice in fifteen. I will see you at lunch."

With that, Pascal went straight out the door.


----- * * * -----


"...What's that commoner girl doing here? This is a prestigious library!"

"Orders from the Runelord, who else? Must have gotten her special treatment..."

"...She's still blushing about last night? Has she no shame?"

Kaede swore that the familiars' whole 'eyes and ears' concept made her senses more keen than necessary. She couldn't even concentrate with all the whispering that reached her ears.

It was a Monday morning. However a few dozen people occupied the library nonetheless. They all looked like either senior students or research assistants working on a project. Most of these mages completely ignored her, but just a few gossiping mouths were more than enough to irritate.

"Hey, familiar girl," a tall lady with long, golden-blond curls slammed her palms into the desk. "Tell your master to keep you on a shorter leash. You're an eyesore here by yourself. This is a nobles' academic sanctuary, not a whorehouse!"

Kaede flipped another page.

"Are you listening, you ignorant commoner!?"

Kaede finally tilted her head and looked upwards with half-open eyes that barely cared:

"Pascal says you're a blithering idiot and that I should ignore you. I think I agree."

The noblewoman looked like her face was about to spontaneously combust and explode.

Kaede went back to reading, or trying to...

"Listen here you little bitch. I don't care if your master reserved this desk. You get the hell out of here or I'm going to give you the whipping you deserve. Do I make myself clear?"

"<Ah, that is Emilia de Morini.>" Pascal's voice popped into her head. "<Talk about pot calling kettle black. How does that tramp have the brain capacity to attack you when she can barely scrub two cells together for a passing grade?>"

"<You're not helping, Pascal. And would you knock before tapping in like this?>"

"<Tell her that-->"

"<Look, they may be afraid to challenge the Runelord to a duel, but if I keep it up after dropping your name and they don't relent, they're going to challenge me.>"

"<So give them the beatdown you showed me. They will not even see it coming.>" Pascal sounded oddly proud.

What, just like you didn't? Kaede amused herself before sending back:

"<Precisely. Most of them probably believe I'm just a pushover familiar girl who surprised you with a punch, and that the story got exaggerated somehow. Ariadne does harbor a very public grudge against you, after all. I'd prefer it if they kept thinking that way.>

"<Not bad at all.>

Pascal's reply rang with approval. It made Kaede wonder if he was really being impulsive, or if he was just testing her.

Sighing, Kaede stood up from her chair, piled her book plus three others into a small stack, and left without a word.

Whatever, not like I can concentrate here anyway.

Without someone she was friendly with -- or at least growing friendly with -- Kaede didn't exactly feel comfortable around new people or places. With her books in hand, she ignored the noblewoman's departing screech and headed back to the dormitories.

She felt the disdain of the librarian's glance as she walked past.

Yeah yeah, I'm just a commoner, foreigner at that. Get used to it, you prissy nobles.

Kaede rather missed having Pascal's 'you-are-all-idiots' attitude shield her from the rest of the world. Sure, his disdainful eyes were annoying. But a roomful of nobles hitching their arrogant noses at her made that seem a paradise by comparison.


----- * * * -----


After another lunch in the dining hall with Pascal, Kaede returned to his room to continue her research. She found three interesting historical references, along with two unexpected realizations as she browsed through the military history of the nation she lived in right now -- the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie.

First of all, calling Rhin-Lotharingie an 'empire' was giving it far too much credit. The realm of Rhin-Lotharingie included four autonomous kingdoms -- Gleann Mòr to the north, Ceredigion to the west, Avorica to the southwest, and Garona to the south. Each of these kingdoms had their own monarch, who in turn swore an oath of allegiance to the Emperor. Sure, there were also many heartland duchies who did not answer to a King before the Emperor. However this layered feudal system which evolved from a tribal confederation left the realm extremely decentralized.

It made Kaede wonder: just how much power did the 'Emperor' really have?

This throne sounds like a pain for whoever inherits it, she concluded.

Perhaps that was the reason whenever the word 'Imperial' was used, it actually referred to the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea. That emperor, with the sufficiently fancy title of Imperator Augustus, was a true autocrat who could summon legions with a handwave.

Second, it seems that before the various Lotharin cultures banded together to form their 'empire', they were constantly at the mercy of imperial expansion. Just as Ariadne said, the Lotharins had fought wars with the Imperium for centuries, and almost all of the major battles were won by the Imperial side. Yet no matter how much they tried, the Imperium could not stamp out Lotharin resistance, not even in the territories they conquered.

It was as though magic made it more difficult to crush and integrate foreign peoples. This was no doubt aided by the fact that mages, including both their national heroes and the cultural elite, could live for well over a century.

One notable example of this was the historical 'Siege of Alisia', fought over the very ground this academy was built on. Here, the first Imperator of the Inner Sea Imperium besieged the hilltop fortress of an influential Lotharin chieftain. However a Lotharin archmage had activated a stone circle outside to create a gateway, which transported the majority of the tribespeople to an island in the middle of a huge lake. There, they escaped enslavement from the Imperium and founded the city of Alis Avern, which was now the capital of Rhin-Lotharingie.

Wait a minute, Kaede finally noticed. That's why the academy's name sounds familiar! The Battle of Alesia was when Julius Caesar crushed the uprising by the Celtic Gauls!

Yet it seemed that the Romans of this world failed to subjugate the Celtic people, who later banded together to form their own 'empire'.

I wonder what the connection is between this world and mine? Kaede puzzled. This can't just all be a coincidence?

Despite being engrossed in her own questions, Kaede never forgot to loop in Pascal whenever she found something he could use. Each time Pascal would tap her senses directly to read in. The convenience was undeniable. However it was also annoying, not to mention bizarre to turn pages for a pair of eyes that served as someone else's camera.

It was worse when Pascal just dropped into her head without warning, often for no other reason than he felt her curiosity. By the third time, she finally had enough and gave Pascal an earful:

"Would you at least ASK POLITELY before you reach through my eyes and ears!?" She fumed. "Or do you also enter girls' rooms without knocking and barging in while they're dressing like some scumbag pervert!?"

His reply was a defensive "all right, I will ask first in the future, I promise!"

Apart from all the knowledge of a new world, there were also two other, more personal thoughts that kept bouncing to the fore of her mind:

First of all, fantasy realms needed a magical version of the Internet, not to mention magical Google and Wikipedia. They could probably skip Magebook though, given how bad of an influence it was on society at large. Information processing and networking spells couldn't be that hard when Pascal managed to tap into her own biological sensory network this easily.

Secondly, she was rapidly becoming a shut-in, emerging only to retrieve food and books. She was conversing with barely more than one person per day. This was worrisome indeed.

*Knock, knock*

The door then opened without waiting for a response. A petite young maid with short brown hair backed into the room with a large cart in tow. She was the same one who often served Pascal in the dining halls.

She almost dropped the handle when she turned around.

"I'm sorry Miss. I thought Sir Pascal was in a class right now. I d-didn't actually expect anyone here."

Sitting on the bed in an orchid-pink dress, Kaede put down her book and returned a welcoming smile.

"Don't worry about it. My name is Kaede, what's yours?"

"M-marina," she bowed. "I'm one of the maids responsible for the male dorms, Miss Kaede."

"Just Kaede is fine. It's not like I'm one of those noblemen."

"Ah, I've heard... that you were summoned from afar... as a familiar."

"That's right." Kaede tried not to make the maid Marina any more nervous. However all she managed to keep up was a wry smile. "Do you normally only clean when nobody is here?"

"Yes!" Marina nodded a bit too eagerly. "The nobles do not appreciate seeing us servants at work, so we try to be discreet whenever possible."

Thinking back to her dining hall experiences, Kaede remembered that Pascal never even acknowledged, let alone thanked, the servants who brought his food. Nor, for that matter, did most other nobles she saw, except...

"Ariadne seemed friendly with you all though."

Marina's lips finally curled upwards with a hint of joy.

"Dame Ariadne is one of the few nobles who do greet us with friendliness." Then, sighing: "unfortunately, she's a very rare minority. Most of them pretend we don't exist."

"Stupid nobles with their oversized noses and squinty eyes need to learn some respect," Kaede lashed out at the opulent room she stayed in. Her gaze then returned to find Marina smiling back reluctantly, as though she was in agreement wasn't brave enough to express it.

However, the maid's expression soon returned to one of sympathy and worry intermixed with curiosity:

"I also heard you gave Mister... I mean Sir Pascal a beating? Did your master punish you any further than cutting meals? He was in a foul mood even as recently as yesterday morning, yet he seemed all better today."

Kaede's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs for a second.

I swear, how do nobles keep any secrets from these servants?

"Yeah, a surprise kick to the crotch and he couldn't even defend himself, imagine that," Kaede lied with a totally unapologetic grin. "And not really, Pascal has actually respected me more since then. Goes to show that we can't just take things lying down or these nobles will just see us as useless. We have to push back whenever we get the chance!"

For a brief second, Kaede thought Marina's eyes glittered in amazement. Within minutes, they were chatting like friends, bonding through the power of complaints.

Grumbling to others wasn't something Kaede used to do much. In fact, she hadn't even realized that since becoming a girl, she had become far whinier, albeit for good reasons. Nevertheless, it quickly bridged the distance before Marina was comfortable enough to ask her first personal question:

"Kaede, do you miss your home back in Samara? I mean, I'm guessing by your appearance that you are Samaran?"

Kaede's grin froze as a torrent of nostalgic images flooded in: her best friend's congratulations for being accepted to Tokyo U, her clubmates chatting after practice, her parents welcoming her home...

"I'msorrythatwasinappropriateofme!" Marina blurted out as a tear slid down Kaede's cheeks.

The latter girl shook her head. She felt melancholic and glassy-eyed, but still forced herself to wear a wistful smile.

"Yes, I do miss home. I wish I could return, but I can't. So there's no point worrying over it."

She didn't even bother correcting Marina's guess about her origins. There just wasn't a point anymore.

Marina had to return to her work soon afterwards. Meanwhile Kaede rediscovered her amusement at what seemed to be a magical vacuum cleaner powered by mana-storing crystals. Not being a mage, Marina couldn't actually turn the appliance on or off, only manipulate its intake controls.

The same cleaner also had an enchanted nozzle for cleaning chamber pots.

Whatever modern impressions Kaede had towards the role, being a medieval maid, at least, was not a job that she envied at all.


----- * * * -----


Pascal's last course of the day was held in the second drill hall. It was more of a stone amphitheater, but with a massive stage ringed by only three meager rows of benches. Advanced Spellsword Combat was an elective class open to upperclassmen and offered every season, so at the moment only thirty-one cadets stood in loose formation.

It was also the only 100% practical course in the academy. Books, parchment, and ink weren't even allowed here. The only acceptable tools of teaching and learning were spells and swords. The usual homework was recovering from injuries, which understandably made students strive for perfection.

As Professor Albert's assistant, Pascal was not required to attend a class that Albert did not teach. However, since Pascal was planning on being a career military officer, he seized upon the opportunity to sharpen his combat skills. Sure, a commanding officer did not need to be a champion, for they relied on brains and not brawn to lead the men. Nevertheless, it would be embarrassing if a mere lieutenant could break into his future headquarters and defeat him.

"As we've covered before, the most commonly practiced combat magic style in Hyperion is Aura Magic. It is utilized for its multiple stances that shift and adapt to circumstances, as well as high channeling speed which allows rapid mana transfer and spellshaping. However, contrary to many claims, the popularity of Aura Magic is not an indicator of superiority."

It was difficult to remember that Duke Gaston de La Conde was actually one of the most powerful men in Rhin-Lotharingie. It wasn't because he looked ordinary, as despite being just short of old age, Gaston was a dandy who only ever dressed in silver-lined white clothes and sported a meticulously curled mustache. His long face could be described as dignified and moderately handsome, but far more memorable were his wavy brown curls and a deep, violet gaze.

However, even though Gaston was an Oriflamme Paladin and one of the top commanders in the Rhin-Lotharingie military, he spent most of his time teaching students art and dueling while leaving his administrative duties to his mistress Cosette.

"For example: Runic Magic remains a favorite in the Kingdom of Gleann Mòr, not to mention our Northmen neighbors in the Greater Jarldom of Skagen. Its capacity for precast and contingent spells that may be activated in a second cannot be underestimated -- as many of you learned the hard way from Sir Pascal." Gaston smirked as he turned to the young man in question.

"The key to winning is found not just in practice and experience, but a thorough understanding of the other styles' capabilities. Runic Magic may bring a large cache of prepared spells that may be dumped into battle in an instant, but its glyphs only activate by touch. This hampers its offensive potential and allows a skilled Aura Magic user to keep his distance until he can level the playing field. Sir Pascal, Mister Moreau, would you be gracious enough to demonstrate."

Duke Gaston and the rest of the class quickly left the platform for the benches. Only Pascal and the fiery-haired Reynaud remained on stage. Both of them had agreed heartily to the professor's request, but neither of them looked thrilled as they confronted the another.

"What's wrong, Runelord, cold feet in the face of superiority?" Reynaud smirked a savage grin as he lowered the mass of his already short stature.

His weapons of choice were a wooden kukri in each hand, though one was longer than the other and could almost be considered a falcata. He also wore an open helmet and a brigandine vest for protection, just like every other student including his opponent.

Pascal meanwhile didn't even bother to respond. His steely gaze met the challenge with an imperturbable poker face. He held his wooden estoc in an aggressive fencing stance -- the blade raised above his right shoulder, its tip pointed forward and ready to strike.

"You may begin!" The Duke's words rang like a starting bell.

Pascal leaped forward and charged Reynaud without delay. He stretched out his left hand with fingers extended, activating his extra-dimensional storage glove as four rune-engraved pebbles materialized between his fingers. These runes activated a split second later, surrounding Pascal with the invisible aura of his anti-projectile Repulsion Field, five rotating turquoise shields of his auto-blocking Spellshield Fortress, and the unseen plates of his weightless Barrier Armor, which grew translucent as the magic-resistant Barrier Guard layered onto it.

With four powerful defensive enhancements set in the blink of an eye, Pascal could focus his attention completely on offense. He thrust his estoc towards Reynaud's torso. His first stab was light and aimed just beneath the neck. But as expected, the faster redhead dodged it by stepping back and shifting his weight to one side.

Pascal withdrew his weapon immediately and gripped the estoc's handle with both hands. He stabbed forth again, this time for real and aiming at Reynaud's center torso. However Reynaud twisted his body to one side and spun as though he was dancing. The weapon slid past his opponent's armor just millipaces short of contact.

But this time Reynaud did not stay on the defensive, as he used his rotation to build momentum which he transferred into a slash from one wooden kukri, followed by the other. Yet with Pascal's layered, magical defenses in place, the two short blades harmlessly bounced off the automated guard of a hovering spellshield.

Taking the opportunity, Pascal retracted his estoc and stabbed again, this time angled towards Reynaud's right and beneath the shoulder. His wooden blade was almost horizontal as he soon transitioned the stab into a diagonal, cutting motion. His target was a common weak spot just beneath the armpit.

Yet once again Reynaud proved that he was both faster and more agile. The short redhead pivoted his leftover momentum to fall away from Pascal's strike, where he transitioned into a roll before bouncing back to his feet. Before Pascal could follow up with another attack, Reynaud muttered his favorite spell and flashed to the other side of the platform in a bolt of lightning, literally.

"Armor Aura Burst!" The redhead cried from his new spot, sending out a pressurized blast of air as he used his aura stance switch to conjure an invisible suit of magic armor to layer over his brigandine vest. He then crossed his twin kukris before his eyes.

Meanwhile Pascal activated the second four enhancements of his usual defensive array, followed by scattering an entire bag of runic pebbles across the arena. With the field under his control, he dashed forward again, his estoc raised and ready for another two-handed thrust.

However before he could even get close, Reynaud unleashed the crimson magic he had pumped into his practice weapons with a set of Ancient Draconic words:

"Scourge Catalyst Fragmentation Dispel!"

A four-part spell with multiple advanced spellwords normally took up to a minute to cast. However, Burst-mode Aura Magic was known for having the fastest channeling speed of all spellcasting styles. It did had a high tendency to overwhelm the nerve conduits and leave the body numb though, and prolonged use could even lead to temporary or permanent paralysis.

The X-shaped fire blast sucked in air like a black hole as it soared towards Pascal. His Repulsion Field popped like a bubble under a gargantuan hammer. One of his turquoise shields then met the attack, breaking into three pieces under its power but shattering the offensive spell.

Yet instead of dispersing, Reynaud's dispel fragmented into four parts that pierced into Pascal's translucent armor. The entire suit glowed as Barrier Guard fought to maintain the defense, only to collapse into a kaleidoscopic burst of mana less than two seconds later. Not done with its job, the shards of fiery-red magic then penetrated Pascal himself.

The Runelord staggered. Steam began to pour from his sizzling body as hostile antimagic crashed against his own mana. His second set of four self-enhancements backfired, fueling the hostile incursion as Elemental Body of Earth, Shift Impulse, Mental Clarity, and Metabolic Boost transformed into volatile mana. His speed broke as his teeth clenched down in pain.

A second lightning-transformation put Reynaud just behind the distracted Pascal. Coming out in a spin and infused with the ward-piercing Negation spell, his dual kukris struck the Runelord like twin rotor blades, bringing the latter to his knees.

"Stop!" The Duke called out as he stepped back onto the stage. "Thank you, Sir Pascal. Mister Moreau, please escort him to..."

Kneeling on all fours and panting in pain did not stop Pascal from cutting in:

"I am fine, Your Grace!"

Duke Gaston nodded before turning back to the class:

"The four-part spell Mister Moreau just used is the bane of Runic Magic users' tendency to over-enhance themselves. Dispel is your classic antimagic spell. Catalyst allows it to push through multiple defenses in an increasingly-powerful cascading chain reaction. Fragmentation gives it a chance to break past even the most powerful dispel-warding barriers. And Scourge not only boosts penetration power, but destabilizes the target's own mana to burn their bodies.

"Remember that a spellsword relies neither on blasting the opponent nor overwhelming them through pure martial prowess, but by a synergistic combination of arcana, steel, and tricks," the Duke emphasized. "Barrier Armor plus steel will reduce most physical attacks to mere bruises. Infused Guard, Resistance, and other defensive magic diminish most hostile spellfire down to tolerable nuisances. This goes doubly so for alchemy or enchantment spells which a mage's innate mana may outright repulse."

The Professor then scanned his students before concluding:

"To score a decisive hit, you must be flexible, you must be adaptive. Think on your feet and respond accordingly, let magic be your fist and bring home victory!"

"Now," Gaston followed by raising his arm into the air with a proud grin. Six quarterstaves lifted themselves from the ground and began to hover in a formation around him. "How many of you think you can land a hit on me?"

Five people raised their hands. A slightly winded Reynaud was one of those who did.

"Good." The Duke smiled. "You cannot win if you're hesitant to unsheathe your blade, especially when facing a superior adversary. Your assignment today, class, is to form groups of five and try to land a hit on me. Anyone who succeeds will automatically receive a perfect grade."


...


An hour later and near the end of class, Reynaud accosted Pascal again after both of them restored their health.

"Up for a real duel that isn't pre-scripted this time? Doesn't exactly please me any to win a fixed match."

"Of course," Pascal grunted as he stood back up, still sore all over. "You know I could have easily dodged that blast."

"We'll see," Reynaud sneered back.


----- * * * -----


"So... where's my bed?" Kaede didn't even bother taking her eyes off her book.

"In Phantasia," Pascal grumbled before climbing into bed bare-chested, snuggling just close enough without touching her. "Ugh, my back still hurts. That Reynaud is unnaturally good at dueling... you think someone stupid and gullible enough to fall for every propaganda piece would not be a spellsword genius."

"His Holiness is fair," she replied, her casual eyes still reading. "With one noodly appendage he giveth, with the other he taketh away."

Pascal just stared at her for a few seconds, then waved the light off:

"Your world is crazy."

Sighing, Kaede pulled down the bookmark string, closed the tome, and laid it on her bedside table.

Why can't he learn to ask first?

And just like that, another day passed in the new world. The rest of the week went by the same way, except after Friday's afternoon chat-break, Kaede was sure she could now consider Marina a new friend. This was an important milestone to Kaede, as it averted, or at least delayed, her fear of becoming a 'shut-in'.


----- * * * -----


"You still haven't managed it?" The new chief groundskeeper snarled. He was a yeomen, a 'middle-class commoner' capable of using magic, who was hired only two weeks ago to fill a vacancy left when his predecessor died in an accident.

"I-I'm sorry," Marina trembled, her eyes nailed to his feet. "K-Kaede... his familiar girl is in his room all day. It's hard to do without being noticed. I'm trying to gain her trust."

"Well, you have one more week. If we miss the deadline and our lord is punished by the Imperator, it will be on your hands, girl. I certainly do not wish to be deemed worthless and a security risk by that squad of killers in town." He warned before departing from the shadowy alcove where he had cornered her.



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