Chương 37: Chapter 35: Riftsteel and Relics

"A full treasury is the mark of sound judgment. An empty one exposes the lack of it." – Zhulia Rumiosi, Matriarch of the Rumiosi Clan

"Well, where do we go from here?" Hovaru asked.

"Not sure," Arla shrugged. Soon, Aloric noticed Teacher Daisor making his way toward them from the stage.

"We'll return back to the classroom," he announced once he reached the group.

"The other classes have already started returning." Aloric turned and looked across the field. The graduates who had been standing closest to the path were already heading back toward the academy in small groups. He had not even noticed them leaving, too distracted by Sir Ganisaar's speech and everything that had followed.

"Follow me, all of you," Teacher Daisor ordered.

"You'll receive your squad assignments and meet your new instructors shortly." The announcement sent another ripple of conversation through Classroom One.

"When do we get our rank-markers?" someone asked.

"Your squad instructors will explain the schedules," Teacher Daisor replied.

"Those assigned to the reserve force will be notified separately." That answer quieted some of the students. Teacher Daisor started toward the path, and the newly graduated class followed in their usual groups.

"Who do you think our instructor will be?" Hovaru asked before putting another chip into his mouth.

"It better be a Siurim," Arla muttered.

"You have no idea how much of a failure I'll be considered in my clan if I couldn't even get a Siurim as the instructor after ranking second in the exams." Yibleen was walking beside her a few paces ahead of Aloric. She shrugged.

"The instructor matters a lot less than which squad we're assigned to. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all three of us ended up together?" Arla snorted.

"And how likely is that? There are around two dozen graduates from our class alone, and plenty of other classes graduated with us. We might be assigned alongside people we've never even met." Aloric stayed quiet. He had been wondering the same thing. There was almost no chance he would be placed with clan students like Arla or Hovaru, or even someone as talented as Yibleen.

The clan students had years of extra training and support behind them, while Yibleen's rare mana-sensing talent had placed her far ahead of someone like him. Still, he hoped the other members of his squad would come from Classroom One. Even if they were other civilian-born graduates, at least he would know them. That had to be better than trying to build a team with complete strangers. Of course, that assumed he was assigned to a squad at all. He could still end up in the reserve force.

Behind them, the Rumiosi twins had started discussing the same subject.

"I only want Worinag Zorlano as my instructor," Sikkar declared, scratching his dog Karro behind the ears.

"Wouldn't that be something? Becoming the student of the next Vazaag?"

"Nobody knows who the seventh Vazaag will be, you idiot," Sulia scoffed.

"If Worinag does get chosen as the next one, do you really think he'll take charge of a fresh Nourim squad at the same time? And if he doesn't become the next Vazaag, an S-ranker like him will still have far more important things to do instead of babysitting new graduates."

"Doesn't matter. It's fine if he's our instructor only in name." Sikkar slicked back his blond hair.

"Our clan can teach us anything we actually need to know. But the prestige of becoming a future Vazaag's student should belong to a Rumiosi." He looked ahead for a moment.

"Or maybe I can just petition him to take me as a personal apprentice." Sulia laughed.

"Why would he take an idiot like you?" Sikkar glared at her.

"Actually," Sulia continued, "you gave me a good idea. Perhaps I should apply to become Sivaro Filo's apprentice. He has a better chance of becoming Vazaag anyway, since he's younger and far better-looking. Besides, even Mother doesn't like dealing with Worinag. She'd never let either of us become his apprentice."

"Can't you two stay quiet for a few minutes?" Nemirie Qanza asked from ahead of them without turning around. Her green hair swayed across her back as she walked.

"Personal apprenticeships under manaweavers of that rank almost never happen. When they do take an apprentice, they choose experienced Tarim, not fresh academy graduates. You both give me a headache every time you open your mouths." Sikkar's expression darkened.

"Becoming the top-ranked graduate has given you a big head, has it?"

"The correct phrase is hasn't it?" Arla said with a smirk, wagging one finger at him.

"Shut up!" Sikkar snapped.

"Nobody asked you, shorty."

"Don't call me that!" Aloric groaned as their usual argument started again. He really hoped he would not be assigned with either Rumiosi twin. Even the reserve force sometimes seemed preferable to spending every day listening to them. Couldn't he be placed in a quieter squad? Even Ralovit would be easier to deal with. The Vayot boy cursed at everything and everyone, but at least he did not spend every waking moment trying to provoke somebody. Before long, they reached the academy courtyard.

Teacher Daisor stopped near the entrance to the main building and turned toward them.

"Go on to Classroom One. I'll collect the squad-assignment scroll from the headteacher and join you shortly." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. He left before anyone could ask questions. The graduates continued inside, but without a teacher leading them, they did not move with anything resembling their old classroom discipline. They were not really students anymore, after all.

By the time Aloric entered Classroom One, familiar groups were already forming between the desks. Civilian-born graduates gathered near their closest friends, speaking in lowered voices about the reserve force and how long they might have to wait for a place in a squad to open. Clan students clustered together with far more confidence, already debating what rank their instructors would hold. Nemirie returned to her usual seat at the front. Arla, Hovaru, and Yibleen gathered around Hovaru's desk.

The Rumiosi twins remained nearby with Karro sitting between them. Ralovit went to his own seat near the back. He drew one of his swords, rested it across his lap, and began polishing the blade with a cloth. Velron took his place a few desks away from the Vayot boy and immediately turned to glare at the front wall. Aloric sat near the middle, where he always had, neither close enough to the front to be mistaken for one of the academic prodigies nor far enough back to belong with the strongest fighters.

"You know the first thing I'm going to do after I'm assigned to a squad?" Sikkar announced, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder.

"I'm going to ask Mother for a new riftsteel sword as my graduation gift. One just like Worinag Zorlano's." He glanced toward Velron. The Rudox boy was still staring at the wall and probably had not even noticed.

"I'd like to see him defeat me after that," Sikkar added. He looked down at Karro.

"Right, Karro?" The dog gave a single excited bark. Yibleen folded her arms, looking at Sikkar.

"Even if your mother bought you one, do you even know how to use a sword properly? I barely saw you touch one during our academy training sessions." Sikkar shrugged.

"Hardly matters. Who in their right mind would fight someone carrying a riftsteel sword? Most enemies would just run away as soon as they saw it!"

"You know what?" Sulia leaned forward with sudden interest.

"That is a good idea. I don't care about swords, so I'll ask for dragon-scale armour instead as my gift. Just like Worinag's. Maybe that's why he's so strong—he has a riftsteel sword and dragon-scale armor!" She looked at her brother.

"Perhaps we should ask Mother for both!"

"You idiots are going to bankrupt your clan at this rate," Arla muttered, sitting straighter in an attempt to see past Hovaru.

"Even your loaded clan can't buy equipment like that easily."

"Yeah..." Hovaru agreed, opening a packet of cookies now that his chips had apparently disappeared.

"Riftsteel weapons and dragon-scale armor are both extremely rare. And being rich wouldn't help much if nobody is even willing to sell them." Aloric looked between them.

"Where do those materials come from, anyway?" Nemirie turned in her seat.

"Were you daydreaming when Teacher Daisor explained this?" Aloric frowned at her. Sulia gave a sharp laugh.

"Maybe he burned his books for heat during winter. Electricity costs money, after all!" Sikkar laughed with her. Everyone else ignored the remark. Heat rose into Aloric's face, but he kept his attention on Nemirie.

"Not everyone can read a textbook once and remember the whole thing like you."

"That was not some unimportant sentence," Nemirie replied.

"It was an entire chapter."

"Fine." Aloric exhaled.

"Then what did I miss?" Arla leaned forward, apparently happy to move past the argument.

"Riftsteel ore is mined beyond a small number of high-ranked rifts. Once refined, it becomes an exceptionally strong metal."

"Mining it isn't even the worst part," Ralovit said from a few desks away.

"Forging the damned stuff is." The conversation had finally drawn him over. He slid the sword he had been polishing back into its sheath and moved closer to the group.

"The raw ore is a complete bastard to work with," he continued.

"It needs special furnaces and forging techniques. My clan is the only one in Varrenia that can forge riftsteel reliably." Arla gave him an interested look.

"I know the Vayot clan forges and supplies weapons across the city. I didn't know you were the only ones in Varrenia who could forge riftsteel."

"Other countries may have their own smiths," Ralovit grinned.

"But in this kingdom? Only us." Aloric leaned forward.

"And the ore only comes from beyond the rifts?" Ralovit nodded.

"Wow. So none has been mined since all the rifts closed 16 years ago?"

"No. Once the rifts closed, that was it." Ralovit rested one hand on the back of an empty chair.

"There were some old stockpiles we used for a while, but most of that ore was probably used years ago. Anyone who wants a riftsteel sword now has to buy one that already exists."

"Doesn't that mean nobody who owns one would want to sell it?" Aloric asked.

"Especially now?"

"Exactly." Sikkar waved one hand dismissively.

"Eh... Everyone has a price."

"Maybe." Ralovit looked at him.

"But a riftsteel sword could cost three to four million gilens, assuming you even find someone willing to sell the damned thing. Only the richest clans or legends like Worinag—people who have spent decades completing the most dangerous missions—could afford one. The city administration probably owns a few as well, but those would only be issued to its best SABLE operatives."

"Three million?" one of the civilian-born boys blurted.

"My family could live on that much for years. No, decades!" Sikkar lifted his chin.

"A clan like ours could afford it." Ralovit looked at him.

"The price isn't the biggest problem—at least not for you. Finding a seller is." Sulia tapped one finger against her cheek.

"What about dragon-scale armor?"

"That's still possible to obtain," Ralovit said.

"But don't mistake possible for easy. Just less fucking impossible. Hunting a fully grown dragon is an S-rank mission."

"Where do people even find dragons?" Yibleen asked.

"Mountain peaks, deep swamps, isolated forests," Nemirie answered.

"Dragons are native to this world. They have nothing to do with the rifts."

"SABLE squads sometimes hunt them if one threatens human settlements," Arla added. Ralovit nodded.

"Which means fresh scales still enter the market occasionally, but it's very rare. A proper suit of dragon-scale armor can still cost around a million gilens. At least." Sulia stared at him.

"A million?"

"Depends on the type of dragon, the quality of the scales, and how complete the armor is," Ralovit said.

"Add that to the riftsteel sword, and you're asking your mother for at least four million gilens' worth of graduation gifts—for each of you." Sulia leaned back and snorted.

"Yeah. Mother is not giving us those."

"We can always hunt a dragon ourselves," Sikkar boasted.

"Then we wouldn't have to pay for the scales." Sulia considered that. She actually considered it for a moment. Then she nodded.

"That might be easier." Arla stared at both of them.

"You two would struggle to harvest berries without arguing over who'll carry the basket." Sikkar scoffed.

"We can handle a dragon. Right, Karro?" Karro barked enthusiastically. Sikkar scratched behind the dog's ears.

"See? Karro knows we can do it!" Hovaru bit into another cookie.

"Wouldn't a relic sword be better than a riftsteel one anyway? If both cost more money than I'll ever see, I'd rather buy the one that actually does something." Nemirie glanced over from her desk.

"That depends entirely on the relic. Riftsteel has consistent properties. It is exceptionally strong, conducts mana well, and is difficult to damage. A relic sword could be far more useful, but only if its abilities suit the person using it."

"Some strengthen a particular affinity," Arla added eagerly.

"Others help with specific techniques, or produce effects that have nothing to do with the blade itself." Ralovit rested both hands on the back of an empty chair.

"And some will be nothing more than useless pieces of shit for you if their abilities don't match the way you fight. But a good relic sword in the right hands?" He gave a firm nod.

"That would be worth more than almost any riftsteel weapon." Yibleen looked toward the back of the classroom.

"Doesn't someone from the Rudox clan have a relic sword?"

"How do you even..." Arla shook her head.

"Of course you'll know all the city gossip." She turned to the Rudox boy as well for an answer.