Cursed Explorer of the Arcana

Soon the other sixty or so kids trickle into the classroom, none of them too enthusiastic about the prospect of learning the basics of the world, something I can’t really understand. Learning new stuff can be a lot of fun when the presentation isn’t dry.

Maybe they lack curiosity or common sense… Or maybe they are just dumb or lazy. If the centuries-old veterans think we need this, then we need this, period.

Some still carry a few snacks around and the rows start to be filled up from back to front just as Victor expected. We don’t need to wait too long as exactly when the clock, next to the blackboard, hits one o’clock Martha marches into the room.

The chatter disappears the second she opens the door as if the voice of every kid was taken away. Except one. He’s so engrossed in telling his little story that the change in the atmosphere goes right over his head so he quickly demonstrates why nobody dares to talk.

A tiny lightning spark rushes through the hall striking the boy as a form of punishment and warning in one small package. The effect quickly fades, after which he just rubs his shoulder where the magical slap on the wrist landed while looking embarrassed.

I have to really exert myself not to laugh at his plight, a task shared by many others. The room descends in complete silence, the only sound being Martha’s boots meeting the floor.

“Welcome to today’s theoretical lesson cadets. Our topic for the next three hours is gonna be the history of the Hand of Krieg and Granhall. I’ll talk about our founders and ancient scriptures, historical battles and our home, Fort Karon. I’ll teach you the local hierarchy and merit system. Any questions?” Her gaze hovers over the lecture hall, daring us to raise our hands.

I personally do have a few questions, but I’m not sure it’d be wise to stand out, both because of the tension in our age group and Martha’s mood. She looks grumpy as hell, or maybe that’s just her military face like Dad does when on patrol. Seeing that we understood everything and had no questions whatsoever, Martha turned towards the blackboard to begin the lesson.

“First things first for those wondering how dare we use a God’s name without fearing divine retribution, it's simple.” She shrugs. “He likes it. He’s the God of conflict and war and we are good at what falls under his domain. So good that he even supports us in the slightest of ways. I’m not saying a word more about that.” How dare she tell us something interesting and then withhold the rest of the content. “We usually come in to resolve conflicts, but that does not mean we ruin the fun of Krieg. War is like a book, it's only good with a proper ending and we make sure the ending does not disappoint.”

I can stand behind that. Ending conflicts, killing pests, and making a GOD happy. Earning disgusting amounts of money. The way she put things likely influenced my thinking since it did sound pretty cool.

“We placed the foundation of our order somewhere around two thousand years ago.” Huh, that’s... long. “At the time we had no home base and the group numbering around forty just wandered the Green Sea searching for ways to make a living. The only documents that survived this long are a bodyguard contract and some food supply purchases. At the time we weren’t even called the Fist, it was the Red Blade. Unimaginative in my opinion. Moving on, around twelve hundred years ago the Crimson Comet sailed across the skies once more. At the time our little insignificant mercenary force moved north to participate in the meat grinder at the Elder Forest. The battle was bloody and the casualties enormous, but our corps fought exceptionally well. They contributed immensely, fought bravely, earned ludicrous amounts and their death toll was minimal. Their achievements quickly earned fame and encouraged other fighters to come under their lead, their numbers swelled just like the size of their wallets.” She chuckles at her own joke, while all of us remain silent, still too frightened to make a noise.

“The leader at the time was Karon Bolar, an ambitious man, great fighter and brilliant strategist. His plans and their team's effort led to the continuous success of their little gang. After the mayhem at the forest came to an end, the newly enlarged and enriched mercenary corps marched south to join any conflicts or wars they could find. On their way south, they come across a destroyed fortress. It was wholly deserted, most likely a victim of the relentless beast tides during the red catastrophe, a tragedy for some, an opportunity for others. Since their number had grown, their pockets full but without a home base, they decided to occupy and reconstruct the crumbling stronghold. It got expanded over the years, all the way to the founding of Granhall. After that, we sadly ran out of space. Our insignia was also first introduced at the time, the fist of the God Krieg striking down on two crossed swords, representing conflict and intervening decisively.” The story doesn’t sound as epic compressed like that, although I’m curious about facts right now and not myths. “Ever since then, we offer our strength to anyone with an acceptable cause and willing to pay the right price.” She finishes her story, making us all realize our lack of breathing in anticipation.

The end of the story was rather lackluster, the author should change it to something more dramatic, 6 out of 10.

“Since then the order has operated following the same principles and the same rules. We don’t interfere in politics, we just fight where we were paid to. We don’t murder unnecessarily, don’t ransack or pillage, and our wages are too high to stoop that low. We don’t take part in unsavory business but take them down when paid to do so.” So basically we work for such exorbitant amounts of money that any criminal activity is below our standards. That’s ridiculous. “We don’t terrorize the population. Those who can’t fight for themselves should stay out of the way, however, we don’t look down on them just because they’re weaker than us. They need us just as much as we need them, keep that in mind. Lastly, act with pride, decorum and discipline. You are to be members of one of the strongest orders on the continent, drag us down and you’ll bear the consequences.” Her voice is grave as she finishes her monologue. Looks like she really is a member through and through. This is her family, her pride.

“It’s like the fourth time we heard that story” Victor whispers from my right.

He’s so quiet I can barely hear what he said, Martha on the other hand… This time I get a close-up example of what happens if you don’t shut the fuck up during the lesson. Did he really expect the veteran, hundreds of levels high above him to not hear that?

“Fort Karon, also known as the headquarters, can be divided into four wings with the courtyard in the middle, designed for training or sparring purposes. The south wing with the main gate is the administrative and treasury wing, and the eastern wing is where the armory, warehouse, communication beacon and planning room are. To the north you find the library, officers' quarters and the mess hall. To the west are the common quarters, lecture halls, and trophy rooms. We also have some facilities underground, except as cadets your authorization does not go that far.” This piques my interest. What could this renowned order hide in the basement… Secret treasures, catacombs, a prison?

“The head of our order currently is Marius Bolegar, one of the greatest fighters on the continent and a good friend of the imperial family. His deputy, Marshal Alistar Stone, organizes most of our excursions and logistics. Next in rank are the three generals, then nine commanders, colonels, captains, lieutenants, squad leaders, members, and below even the support staff are you, the cadets.”

Wow, I knew we were last but that’s a long command structure to be on the bottom of. Not that I plan on climbing this ladder, I’m not here on my own whims.

“Merit in the company is awarded for completed missions based on your performance and role played during the operation. Additional Merit can be received for outstanding performance or other activities benefiting our cause. Demerit is also due for those besmirching our name, acting against our guidelines and disobeying direct orders. Merit can be exchanged for rewards or promotions, likewise, demerit can cause demotion or incur fines. In the worst cases, after serious transgression, we might even be ordered to hunt the fugitive member down.” She turns from serious, to remorseful towards the end. “That’s how seriously we take our rules, bear in mind.”

I can somewhat guess the reason for that, it must be terrible to hunt down one of yours.

She sighs and reverts back to her expressionless, cold self. “Now I’ll tell you about some of the most valiant and glorious moments of The Fist of Krieg. Some of our proudest moments and greatest perils…”

***

I’ve learned why the others looked so pained as they came into the classroom. The list was endless, most of the mentions were basically the same thing. Listening to THIS, with a full stomach makes it a real challenge staying awake. The first few topics intrigued me to no end, and we finished them in... what half an hour? I was curious why the lessons were three hours long… This is why.

“That’s it for today,” The best thing I’ve heard all day. ”I’ll meet the magic specialists in half an hour in the courtyard, make sure to not be late. Tomorrow our topic will be geography and politics, see you soon cadets.” She’s already on her way out of the classroom with brisk steps then stops at the doorway. “Cadet Elyssia with me.” She orders leaving no room for dilly-dallying. I hurry to her side and she continues down the hallway without looking at me.

After a few seconds, she speaks.”I heard what happened in the mess hall. On your first day already, really? Are you gonna be the problematic kind?”

What the hell?

“What do you mean? They started it, they came to me, and they attacked me first, how am I at fault here?” I ask vehemently.

“You instigated them, if you just kept quiet I’m sure they would’ve just given up.” She seems adamant about forcing part of the blame on me.

Now I’m starting to get pissed. “I endured their speciesist comments for a while, insulting not just me but also my parents, then hitting me and saying shit about my loved ones… No one! I won’t be indulgent to anyone who dares say things like that, be it those dimwits or even you.” Hot fury burns inside me at even the thought of what happened. I’m a little late to realize that I’ve basically threatened my superior, someone who could kill me with a sneeze, in the heat of the moment.

Martha just chuckles at my burst out. “You must learn to control these impulses! There will be situations where you cannot allow yourself to act rashly and must take the insults silently. That being said, at your age, I would’ve done the same and realistically you didn’t break any rules so no punishment will befall you.”

I will not. Anyone should bear the consequences of their actions be that stealing or speaking something I don’t like. After I dish out my share of retribution I’ll just have to bail. Running from consequences is also an option.

“Speaking of punishment, what happened to those bastards?” I ask, my vengeful side hoping they suffer properly.

“Oh them? They’re in deep shit right now.” Martha grins wickedly.

“Okay… and more specifically?” I ask with a flat look.

She chuckles. “Let me reiterate. They are knee-deep in shit with shovels in hand. Where do you think all the poop ends up?”

Oh… oh poor souls.

“Isn't there like… magic to make it all disappear?” I ask, feeling almost a little bad for them. Almost.

“Sure is. Burn it, bury the sludge deeper, or simply make it all disappear with void magic.” She nods.

“Then why?”

“It's still a repulsive task for anyone. And also a great deterrent against acting out in the mess hall.”

Note to future self. Never EVER break the rules of the mess hall. Never.

Trying and failing to forgive their mistakes after hearing the punishment, I ask the question that's been bugging me for a while now. “Why did they pick on me? And what was that about me being a mongrel or the fact that my ears are long?”

Marhta sighs and tilts her head backward contemplating something. “Lately dislike and discrimination towards nonhumans is on the rise across the continent. The old refugees who arrived on Eborden almost a thousand years ago represent a prominent force nowadays. Dwarves are the go-to craftsmen, gnomes rule the economic sector, and most of the hunters and sailors today are elves.” Then what are humans for? “Beastmen warbands and caravans are common sights in the central regions and halfling thieves and artisans can be seen all around the major cities. All in all, humans feel like their jobs and wealth gets stolen by these races, which gives way to fear or even hate.” That sounds stupid, like can’t they just adapt to the changes? Find other jobs or learn to live together? Why is greed always the cause?

“With all that said these are trivial concerns for the moment. Only a small minority support the purist movement, nonetheless be careful, just in case.” I nod absentmindedly.

I hope Mom and Dad don’t get into trouble.

“More importantly, I have your training uniform ready.” When did she take my measurements?

A set of training clothes pops up in her hand. Again, out of nothing.

“How can you still be surprised?” She chuckles. “You’ve seen me use space magic many times now.”

“It’s still cool. Can I also do that?” I ask, a bunch of ideas ready for testing.

“With a Class attuned to space mana and a ridiculous amount of stats, sure you could. Space magic along with time are the two most expensive archetypes.” She flaunts her superiority by teleporting the batch of clothes around us like it's nothing. “You could also get a spatial accessory, like a ring, although those cost an arm and leg. Around four years worth of my salary if I’m not wrong.”

My eyes widen to the size of an apple and my jaw hits the floor. It’s obvious Martha earns disgustingly well as an officer of the Fist, but four years worth of salary? Dear Gods.

[The general Skill [Savant] has reached lvl 16.]

Nice. Space magic is special after all.

“Here, get changed and meet me at the courtyard, it's time to boost you to the next class up.” This manages to shake me out of my stupor instantly.

Man that took forever, it's so offputting to keep waiting for something this exciting.