Chương 4: Chapter Four

"Are those… sucker marks?" The harbor pilot shouted incredulously within moments of her boat pulling beside the Fair Gentleman.

"Aye," Aunt Karla grunted as she threw out a line to the woman on the much smaller vessel.

"It was an eventful trip."

"I can see that, milady." The pilot said, still staring at the larger ship's battle damage, even as the two vessels were pulled tight against one another by brawny crew members. As soon as the two were secured, the sailors aboard the Fair Gentleman pushed down the gangway. In moments, the harbor pilot was striding up it and onto the ship's deck. As she did, William noted the way her gaze passed over him, but it was a brief thing, before her gaze turned to Captain Nemoa.

"Permission to come aboard?"

"Granted," Nemoa said in an off-hand way, before turning to him and his aunt.

"Lady Ashfield. Master Ashfield. It has been a pleasure."

"The pleasure has been all ours – despite the unpleasantries," his Aunt responded shortly.

"Perhaps in future it might be wise to avail yourself of a decent communication orb should such an eventuality deign to repeat itself?" The elf just grunted something that might charitably have been considered an assent, before she gestured for the maritime-pilot to follow her over to the quarter deck, where the pilot would help her guide her ship through the congested waters of the Capital's docks. Somehow I don't think she'll be taking that bit of advice, William thought as he watched the elf retreat.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes before grabbing his luggage and following after his aunt as she descended the gangway down to the small tug that the other woman had just disembarked. Though he made sure to send a small wink Nedra's way as he passed by where the orcish sailor was standing ready to untie the docking ropes.

In all likelihood this would be the last time the two of them would ever meet, so he was pleased to note that his last memory of the older woman would be her flushing a dark green as he walked away. They'd had fun together, but there'd never been any implication of anything more. Indeed, in all likelihood she'd be sharing the story of how she added a noble boy to the notches on her bed-post the moment the danger his aunt presented was an ocean away.

She'd also likely omit the fact that she'd been reduced to little more than a mewling mess on more than one occasion by that self-same noble boy on those few occasions he'd convinced his aunt to sleep elsewhere after the kraken attack. William didn't mind. That was just the way of things here. It was little different from how a sailor might brag about nailing some sheltered noble's daughter back on earth during the seventeen hundreds. More to the point, he highly doubted anyone would believe her.

It'd just be another tall tale amongst thousands of others the crew likely told each other. Especially given the… reputation he'd developed amongst them after saving the ship.

"A kraken, you say?" As if echoing his thoughts, as he hit the deck of the pilot-boat, he looked over to where his aunt was in quiet conversation with the captain of this new vessel. The woman wasn't quite as well dressed as Captain Nemoa had been, but she wore her outfit with quiet pride, even as her eyes darted from him to the damaged Fair Gentleman.

"Aye." His aunt said with a mixture of both pride and irritation.

"Ornery as all hell and big enough to drag the whole ship down given enough time. And it definitely would have done just that if my law-son didn't scare the damn thing off with a lightning bolt strong enough to take one of the thing's arms off." The captain whistled.

"A trauma burst, I assume?" It said a lot about how many nobles the low-born woman must have dealt with in her day to day that she even knew the term. His aunt nodded, unknowingly perpetuating the lie he'd told her. Fortunately, a sudden boost in magical power as a result of super-charged emotions resulting in a super-charged contract wasn't unheard.

Rare, and anything but reliable, but it served as a decent enough explanation as to how he'd managed to see off a kraken with magical reserves that could at best be called 'below-average'.

"Well, trauma-burst or not," the woman smiled in his direction.

"This old boat captain is honored to have the 'Kraken Slayer' aboard her humble vessel."

"A pleasure," William responded, accepting her handshake, even as he aimed a gimlet eye in his aunt's direction.

"And really? You felt the need to spread that ridiculous nickname? I took off a single one of the beast's many tentacles. I can assure you, that wouldn't have killed it." He also didn't point out that his aunt hadn't actually been conscious to witness any of the claims she was making.

Partially because he still felt a little guilty about being the one to knock her out, but mostly because he knew that being knocked unconscious by 'a bit of stray debris' while trying to evacuate him had become a sore spot for the woman's pride.

"Straight kill or not, you used magic to wound an animal that's immune to magic," she pointed out.

"That's worthy of some kind of title, and 'Squid Maimer' just doesn't quite have the same ring to it." She spread her hands wide.

"So, Kraken-Slayer." There was no missing the mischievous amusement in his aunt's eyes, even as she tried to give legitimacy to the farcical name she was trying to saddle him with. Which meant there was no winning here. At least, not with her. So he changed tack. Turning to the captain, he made sure to keep his tone dry.

"I would very much appreciate it if you didn't spread that ridiculous moniker around, captain. I'd hate for a name given in jest to be taken as fact." The woman just smiled, even as the ropes connecting her boat to the Fair Gentleman were untied and her crew started reeling them, while the larger ship's crew pulled in the gangway.

"Of course, young master." She chuckled.

"Though I cannot make any such promise on behalf of my crew." Indeed, as William glanced around, he saw more both of the other two members of the boat's small crew of women smiling at him as the boat's sails unfurled once more and it started slowly drifting away from the ship it had just been docked to. Sighing, he just nodded.

"Right, ignoring that, do you have somewhere I can stash my luggage for the rest of our trip upstream?" Returning once more to some semblance of professionalism, the woman just nodded.

"Of course, right this way young master. It's not much, but it should keep the spray off."

One would expect a city as large as the national capitol to be a cramped, foul-smelling hellhole given this world's current level of technological development. As their boat slowly tacked up river though, deftly avoiding other small craft doing the same, William was forced to admit that wasn't the case.

Say whatever else you want about Elves, they know how to plan a city, he thought as he stepped into a horse-drawn carriage, gaze never ceasing to take in the elegant examples of pseudo-Bavarian architecture lining the river shore. Indeed, on the way over he'd more than once made out the occasional flash of fish darting through the wash kicked up by their vessel's passage. Something he was sure wouldn't be the case if the city were dumping waste into it.

Admittedly, magic did allow for a number of alternatives on that front, but it was still an expense he was sure many an artisan's guild would rather do without. Fortunately for the health of the city's rivers – and people – elves were nothing if not excellent long term planners. As much as it pained him to admit it, as their carriage passed under a massive iron warship passing overhead.

The leviathan construct was one of several he could see, either moving towards or away from any of a dozen sky-ports dotted across the city, aether-green trails following them as their propellers pushed them sedately through the sky. Unlike maritime craft who could only realistically make use of the sea-facing docks, a sky-port could be positioned just about anywhere. And often were. Indeed, William could see dozens of them scattered across the skyscape of the capital.

A feat of engineering that - in short - shouldn't realistically have been possible for a society that still made use of swords and spears. Sure, they had airships, machine guns, and fighter craft, too, but those he could at least blame on magic. Not these though, William thought as he gazed at a nearby mammoth tower. Just, time, skill, science, and engineering. Of course, it hadn't taken him long to figure out why the tech of this world was so lopsided.

Necessity, he thought, delicately placing the back of a single knuckle against the cool – and clear – glass of the carriage. The mother of all invention in just about every world apparently. Because if one were to use conventional landing pads as opposed to a sky-port to dock an airship, you would need to clear almost an entire stadium's worth of space. In a city, that would be a ruinous expense – even for the royal family.

By contrast though, some clever bean had clearly figured out that a tower would only take up as much space as the dimensions of its foundation and whatever system of cargo-elevators lay within it. After all, the only time an airship actually needed to land was when it was being repaired. Beyond that, its Mithril Core could run indefinitely. And so long as the Core kept producing aether for the ship's ballasts, it would continue to float.

Thus, the locals eventually managed to come up with reinforced concrete and steel frames - before a few hundred other inventions that should realistically have preceded them. Making the sky-docks just another of the many fun idiosyncrasies of this world. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"We're entering the academy district now, young master," their driver called from her position at the front of the carriage.

"My thanks," he murmured politely in response, even if he thought the observation rather obvious given the walls coming into view. It was no exaggeration to say that the Blicland Royal Aviation Academy was a small town unto itself. A massive airship loomed overhead, docked to a sky-dock that loomed over a sprawling mass of training fields, dormitories, classrooms, arenas, testing areas, forges, kitchens, and a dozen other different types of buildings.

All built to host an aristocratic student body drawn from across the country that measured in the hundreds and a staff that measured in the thousands. There was a small queue in front of the main gate, steely-eyed academy enforcers in blue and red frilled gambesons stood with their poleaxes at rest as dozens of carriages disgorged their cargo. Behind them, staff members stood in slightly more ostentatious outfits, clipboards in hand as they greeted and processed the newly arriving students.

Behind them stood rows of servants, who would collect the new arrivals' luggage before carrying it off somewhere. Presumably to the student's assigned rooms, William thought. Given the ratio of staff to arriving students, it didn't actually take all that long for his own turn to come around. After a brief inspection by the guards, he and his aunt were stepping out into the early morning sun, before turning to greet a rather stern looking woman with rounded spectacles.

Honestly, if one were to try and encapsulate the idea of a 'stern librarian', the dark elven woman that now stood across from him would pretty neatly fit the bill. A sexy stern librarian, he couldn't help but think as he took in her dark skin, glasses, buttoned up white shirt and black pencil skirt.

"Ah, the Kraken Slayer," the woman said rather matter-of-factly as soon as she glanced up from her papers.

"A pleasure. And to you as well, Dame Karla Ashfield." Truth be told, William was a little wrong-footed by the surprising greeting. Though he still managed to aim a gimlet eye at his aunt as she snorted at the name.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms…" He trailed off leadingly.

"Instructor," the woman corrected without any heat.

"Instructor Griffith. Though outside of these walls I am the Countess Joana Griffith of House Griffith." A countess… that was an interesting rank for an instructor, given that her duties would keep her in the capitol and far from her responsibilities as a landholder. Not that he was stupid enough to voice the obvious question.

"Well, Instructor Griffith, I must say I'm a little surprised to hear that my newfound moniker has spread so far so fast."

"Don't be. The only thing that spreads faster than scandals around here are stories of young men." Well, yes, but for the most part he was more surprised that it had just plain… physically traveled this far. Had the crew of the Fair Gentleman somehow disembarked while he was traveling through the city?

"Is that the capitol or this academy, instructor?" he asked, trying to appear unruffled.

"Yes." The woman's voice was exceedingly dry. Well, he was glad to see that this place's reputation as a viper pit was well earned.

"Dame Ashfield," the instructor turned her attention to his aunt.

"I assume you have accompanied him thus far as his escort?"

"Aye, ma'am." His aunt inclined her head, as she was speaking to a social superior.

"Though I'd have brought more than a bolt-bow if I'd known we'd run into a kraken."

"I imagine," the teacher said, scribbling something onto her paper.

"Well, unless you have any final words to say, your duties end here. Though rest assured, I'll be escorting your law-son to his intake speech personally." His aunt cocked her head.

"An escort from an instructor? That wasn't a service being offered to any of the cadets before us." Indeed, the cadets before them had been pointed in the direction of the main admin building, but no one had accompanied them there. Not even one of the servants. To some of the fresh cadets' belated confusion. On that front, William imagined the next few weeks would likely be rather eye-opening for many of the young women now bemusedly walking towards the entrance hall across the way.

He was certain the academy was long practiced at instilling independence and self-reliance into the lives of people that had thus far been entirely bereft of it. At least, for the most part, William thought. He doubted that would be a problem faced by the 'general intake' students, given that they'd mostly been peasants prior to the discovery of their magical potential.

No, they'll be facing an entirely different problem, he thought grimly as he recognized the not insignificant wrinkle his placement into general intake had created.

"Not normally," the dark elf continued.

"But as I said, news of young men travels fast. The story of a cadet – let alone a man – killing a kraken single handedly with magic alone is already percolating through the rumour mill. To that end, I thought it wise to escort him to the auditorium so as to avoid him being cornered by curious young women prior to his introduction to his team."

"I didn't kill it," he muttered. The woman didn't actually shrug, but her tone certainly conveyed the notion.

"The truth of the matter is quite irrelevant at this point, I'm afraid. I imagine you'll have slain a trio of the beasts before the story is done making the rounds of the city." At those words he aimed a gimlet eye at his aunt, who was actually looking a little guilty now. Her light teasing had somehow snowballed into a problem for him. Though it's likely that would have happened regardless, he eventually reasoned. Well, I suppose I'll just have to make the most of it.

Instructor Griffith's tone turned commiserating as he gazed at his aunt.

"Rest assured, the Ashfield matriarch's request for no special treatment on behalf of young William will be fulfilled. While this initial upset is unfortunate, her charitable contributions to our academy have ensured that we will do our level best to ensure that William leaves our Academy a resilient and dutiful young scion. Even if he might never serve."

Ah, well with those words William now knew how he'd somehow managed to join an intake intended for the national military without actually having to swear an oath of service. Mother essentially bought out my service contract in advance, he thought. Likely with interest. It was amusing to think that this was likely one of the few occasions in history that a bribe had been given to the academy to make sure a kid got worse treatment rather than better.

Though, given the way the woman across from him was being so matter-of-fact about it, it was also possible that it was less rare than he was thinking. Especially if the noble in question hailed from the Sunland Marches.

"So with that in mind, if you have any final words for your charge, this will be the moment for them," the Instructor finally finished. At her words, William glanced at his aunt, who snorted.

"Not hardly. I got quite sick of him on the ride over." He couldn't help but chuckle as she immediately belied words by wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Geeze you're getting big," she whispered into his chest.

"I can remember when you barely reached up to my knee. Now you're practically towering over me. Be good, kid. Be nice to your fiancée too when you finally meet her. She's a dutiful girl and you might find you actually like her once you finally get to know her." William doubted that. Because he had no intention of getting to know the woman he was 'destined' to be wed to. His plans prohibited it.

"I'll try," he lied. Something of which his aunt seemed to immediately pick up on, because she slugged him lightly in the arm.

"I mean it. Being a little rogue was cute when you were about five, but everyone's got to grow up eventually. Use this as a chance to reinvent yourself a bit, eh?" This time he was utterly sincere as he responded.

"I will." She spent just a few seconds more, before nodding.

"Alright, I'm off then." She turned to the Instructor.

"Keep an eye on this one."

"I will," Griffith responded just before his aunt clambered back into the carriage they arrived in. William watched her go before turning to the dark elf.

"Well, I'm all yours Instructor. Please be gentle." The woman's eyebrow raised a little at the obvious innuendo, but said nothing before gesturing for him to follow as she started striding towards a nearby building.

True to his escort's words, William noted the many interested eyes that latched onto him the moment he stepped into the auditorium and made his way over to his designated seat. Though to be fair, he had a feeling that had occurred for just about every young man that had entered. Of which there were about twelve, with most of those seated in the 'general intake' seating area.

He genuinely had to wonder if they knew he was the 'Kraken Slayer' or if they were still in the process of trying to figure out which of the arriving young men held the moniker. Ultimately, he supposed it didn't matter. What would be would be. Until then, he found his gaze roaming around the room as he took in the sheer variety of races present.

Naturally, the noble sections of the auditorium were almost entirely comprised of high elves, dark elves and humans, but the general intake area was significantly more varied. Humans made up the majority of the section he was sitting in, but the number of orcs wasn't too far behind. Thereafter he could see a handful of dark and high elves, a trio of dwarves and was that… yes it was, an honest to god wood elf.

He'd genuinely thought the rabbit ears were some kind of peculiar hat at first, but as he watched them twitch, he realized they really were attached to the young woman. Beyond that, it was easy to see that the room had already been pre-arranged into houses. Sure, uniforms hadn't been distributed quite yet, but most of the nobles' clothes gave some clue as to their house of origin. And Academic Houses were usually divided by geographic region of origin anyway.

The only exception to that rule were the general intake students, who were a mishmash. The Royal Army sourced from just about anywhere, and as such the quality of style and clothing worn by the people around him varied. From clothes that wouldn't have looked out of place in the Royal Court itself, to peasant garbs that looked to have been carefully sewn and resewn a dozen times over.

Sure, exactly none of the better dressed noble attendees would be higher ranked than a third or fifth born daughter, but it was still amusing to see how uncomfortable they looked sitting next to a bunch of baseborn peasants. Even in his row of five, he could see a high elf glaring at her orcish neighbor. Who also happened to be his neighbor. It was actually a little sad to see – made doubly so by the thorned tattoo around her neck. A former slave, he thought.

Given that she'd have been emancipated as part of her oath of service to the Royal Marine-Knights. Brown hair tied back in a pony-tail, she looked about sixteen – little more than a girl to his eyes – and was dressed in what he could only assume were her nicest clothes, given the notable absence of patches in her cream tunic and brown pants. Likely a field worker of some description prior to her conscription, her arms were likely as thick as the thighs of the elf whose gaze she was deliberately avoiding.

Not that one could really tell given how much the former-slave had shrunk in on herself.

"Relax," he said quietly, actively surprising himself as much as the girl, as her wide eyes flitted toward him. As did the elf's.

"You're here because you have a right to be here," he continued.

"You passed the tryouts right? Beat a bunch of other potential mages to get selected?" He'd not known that was how Royal Marine-Knight candidates were selected. He'd long thought they took anyone with potential – that wasn't already selected to be part of some noble's retinue – but it turned out that wasn't the case. Potential mages had to compete for a spot. And those that failed would invariably end up employed in logistical roles. Iron-smiths and Farm-Witches being the most prominent examples that came to mind.

"Y-yeah," the orc finally whispered. He smiled.

"Well then, you've earned your place here. Be proud of it. Sit up straight. Ignore blondie over there. She's just pissed that you clawed your way up to this level while she managed to flunk her way down to it." Because if she had any real talent, she'd have been inducted into another noble's retinue. Still, it was amusing the way the blonde squawked indignantly at his words. Still, to give her credit, rather than just spit out some bland insult, she took a moment to think of a rather apt rejoinder.

"And what does that say about you, hmm? Both a man and a noble sent to the academy? Here to escape some scandal back home? Or did your poisonous tongue leave you simply incapable of attracting a wife?" He just smiled back at her.

"A little of column A. A little of column B." That shut her up, if only because it left her with little else to say as he freely admitted his own 'ineptitude'. After a few moments more of staring, she turned away with a huff. Smirking internally, he turned his attention back to the stage, but not before he heard a single quiet voice.

"T-thanks," the orc whispered.

"For that. Even if you could have been a bit… nicer. I, um, I am proud to be here."

"As you should be," he whispered back, refusing to let his own complicated feelings on the subject mar the young woman's 'good fortune'. Not everyone wanted to burn down the system and form a new one. Some people just tried to live as best they could within the circumstances that were given to them. He wasn't one of them though. Not this time around at least, he thought as a number of instructors walked onto the stage.

One of them, he couldn't help but note was Instructor Griffith, the dark elf standing out as the only non high-elf on the stage. More to the point, her outfit was now augmented by a half-cape slung over the right shoulder, emblazoned with the Royal colors of Black and Gold. All four of her colleagues had a similar garment, but in different colors. Colors that rather neatly matched the heraldry of different regions of Lindholm.

One of those colleagues stepped forward to stand before the pulpit, her voice projected by what could only have been some kind of magical amplifier.

"Welcome cadets. Welcome to Blicland Royal Aviation Academy. Your home for the next four years." She paused dramatically.

"And if you look to your left and right, you will see that those individuals occupying the row of seats in your section shall be your team for the next four years. In many ways, your family. People that you shall learn with. Live with. Sleep with. Eat with. Fight with. Bleed with. Kill with. And perhaps one day, die with." William froze. He… hadn't known that. Which meant he'd just insulted at least one of the individuals he'd be spending the next four years with.

Shit, he thought, deliberately not turning his gaze right. That way lay trouble. Instead he turned his head left, hoping he'd not managed to- Nope, the dark elf on his left was also clearly a noble given the quality of her clothes. And she was glaring at him. Hard. While a dwarf winked at him over her shoulder. Shit, he repeated.