Chương 39: “Bark to Class (1)”

Celestia left the dormitory with both legs finally working properly. Anna had applied the potion to her knee before she left. The result was the same as the hand, blinding, immediate pain that locked every muscle from her hip to her ankle, except, for some reason, a lot worse. The knee was somehow more painful. For a brief moment, she nearly convulsed, her teeth clamping shut so hard she tasted iron. Anna, naturally, had been delighted.

"T-the location changes how bad it hurts!" she had said, already scribbling in her notebook with her head bowed low over the page.

"I think that's why the mice always—""Anna."

"—reacted worse when I applied it to the joints rather than the—""Anna." The girl's pen stopped as she looked up, eyes bright with wonder. Though Celestia had become a test subject today, she couldn't bring herself to be angry about it. Anna had no guile whatsoever. She was reckless that only genuine, oblivious passion could be. They spent some time after that discussing the potion's progress.

Anna hadn't figured out how to stabilize large batches yet, and she also hadn't sorted out the dosing for anything larger than what she'd tested so far, then there was the factor that her supply of the base ingredients was limited.

"I-I still need more time," Anna had admitted, tapping her pen against the notebook's edge.

"This mixture works, but it's kind of expensive…"

"If you need supplies or run into trouble, go to my office in the business district." Celestia wrote down an address on a piece of paper and gave it to Anna.

"Ask for Martha. She'll handle it." Anna's eyes went wide.

"Y-your maid? I couldn't annoy—""Anna. That is my problem as your sponsor." Anna opened her mouth, closed it, then nodded quickly. Celestia was already turning toward the door when Anna spoke again.

"W-wait...!" Celestia paused. Anna had reached into her satchel and pulled out a small glass vial, no larger than a finger. The liquid inside was the same deep green. Anna held it out with both hands. Her fingers were trembling.

"It's sort of stable… I already tested this with a few things added in, and it's effective for emergencies." She swallowed hard.

"But… I haven't tested it on any injuries bigger than what you had today, s-so I don't know what happens if the wound is worse." Celestia took the vial.

"Please only use it if you really need to," Anna was genuinely worried about her. Celestia tucked it into an inner pocket, and nodded once.

"Mhm." * One of the academy's many training complexes sat at the end of campus, separated from the scholarly lecture halls by a wide courtyard. Celestia had changed into her combat elective gear: a fitted dark jacket over a reinforced undershirt, trousers that allowed a full range of movement, and boots with hardened soles. The uniform was standard-issue for students who enrolled in this elective, though she noticed that some of her peers had already begun modifying theirs.

Last week's class was just an orientation, rather than an actual lesson. The professor had taken attendance, laid out the rules of the elective, and dismissed them early. Now, stepping through the wide double doors of Training Building Four, which had elevated spectator seating arranged in a half-circle around a stone platform at the center, she remembered the reason for the orientation last week; the professor hadn't wanted to waste effort on students who might die in the Tower before the second class.

The seats were filling in. Students walked through the entrances in small groups, and the state of them told the story plainly. Nearly everyone had some sort of injury. Celestia climbed the steps and chose a seat near the middle. There were noticeably fewer students than last week. A voice suddenly cut through the hall.

"My! My!" It was loud and sharp, carrying a unique kind of loud intonation.

"The number's gone down since last week!" Professor Cassia Flamesy stood at the edge of the raised platform with her hands planted on her hips. She was tall and broad-shouldered. Red hair fell in a wild cascade past her shoulders, partially covering the black eyepatch over her left eye. Her remaining eye, black, bright, and entirely too amused, swept the rows of students.

"How many died this time?" she asked, grinning. A few students shifted in their seats. Someone near the back coughed. Cassia Flamesy was, technically, nobility. House Flamesy held the rank of Baron, which placed them far below Celestia's family in standing. But what the Flamesys lacked in political rank, they compensated for with reputation.

The family had produced warriors for generations—soldiers, mercenaries, tournament champions, and at least two individuals who had cleared past the twentieth floor of the Tower. Cassia herself had been among them, before she lost her eye to something she apparently refused to discuss. Her appointment as a professor at the academy was, by all accounts, very recent. And more importantly, Celestia's gaze drifted to a seat three rows down, the woman had a younger sister.

Serena Flamesy sat with her arms crossed, her red hair a shade darker than her sister's, her expression suggested that she was already thinking about fighting. She was one of Arthur's harem members. His second, as far as Celestia's memory of the source material held. In the original story, Serena had fought Arthur in a sparring match during this very elective, lost, and the defeat had sparked a rivalry; that was how Arthur recruited her. Cassia paced along the edge of the platform, boots thudding against stone.

Her one eye scanning over the assembled students, looking at the bandaged arms, the stiff postures, the bruises peeking out from collars and cuffs.

"Why so depressed?! Look at yourselves," she said. The grin was still there.

"Cracked ribs and sprained fingers. You just started climbing and you all came back looking like you got beaten up." She stopped pacing and turned to face them fully.

"You know why you got hurt? Because you're weak." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Her eye paused on Celestia. Disdain briefly flashed across Cassia's face. Cassia turned away and clapped her hands once. The sound bounced off the high ceiling.

"Today, we'll start sparring. I don't care if your arm is in a sling. I don't care if your leg is being held together with bandages. You chose this elective, if you cannot fight while injured, you cannot fight at all." She snapped her fingers toward the side entrance, and a younger man in an instructor's uniform stepped forward, the assistant professor. He carried a clipboard with a sheet of papers and approached Cassia. Cassia took the clipboard from his hands without looking at him.

She announced, holding it up, "When I call your name, get on the platform." * Cassia watched Duke Reingarde's daughter from the corner of her eye while two students traded blows on the platform in front of her.

'This is his daughter?' she thought.

'The one Griffin told me to watch out for? Has that old man lost his touch?' Griffin was not someone who spouted nonsense. When the old knight had pulled her aside and told her to keep an eye on a particular student, Cassia had expected someone worth watching. After all, the name alone demanded it. Reingarde. Duke Armond von Reingarde, the Ashen Sword, a legend among legends, whose name still carried weight in every corner of the continent.

His exploits got passed down in military academies and tavern stories alike, and for good reason. And this was his daughter. The wooden swords cracked against each other on the platform. A boy with a bandaged forearm swung wide, and the girl across from him sidestepped and countered with a thrust to the ribs. Sloppy, both of them. But Cassia's attention kept drifting upward, to where Celestia von Reingarde sat in the spectator seats. She was beautiful. That much was undeniable, and irritatingly so.

Golden hair that caught the afternoon light from the building's high windows, skin that looked like it had never been touched by weather let alone combat, and a demeanor so composed it belonged in a portrait gallery. Her academy combat uniform fit her body so perfectly, unstained and unwrinkled, and her hands rested on her face. Those crimson eyes, sharp and striking, were the only features that carried any edge to her at all. When compared to everyone else, she looked like a porcelain doll brought to life.

And she was bored. Celestia's gaze was directed at the sparring match below, but there was no focus or interest behind it. Her eyelids were half-lowered, and at one point, Cassia was fairly sure she saw the girl stifle a yawn. Cassia's felt a flash of anger again. Every other student in this hall had come back from the Tower with something to show for it. Bruises, fractures, torn muscles. Meanwhile, this girl sat there without a mark on her, looking like the most strenuous thing she'd done all week was get dressed.

'Why?' Cassia thought, turning back to the platform as the two students reset their stances.

'Why did Duke Reingarde pamper her like this? Because she's his only child?' She didn't understand it. She respected the Duke; Armond von Reingarde had earned his legend through blood and steel in the northern lands against the barbarians. So why had he raised his daughter to be like this? Cassia sighed through her nose. The hourglass on the stand beside the platform ran out. The last grains of sand dropped, and Cassia raised her hand.

"Time!" Her assistant shouted, and the two students on the platform lowered their weapons, breathing hard.' No proper skills between them,' Cassia noted, watching the two walk down from the platform. That was expected. Students who had only climbed to the fifth floor hadn't gained anything monumental yet. The Tower granted skills at its own pace, and for most climbers, the early floors offered nothing but pain and experience. The average was somewhere around the tenth floor for a first skill, give or take.

Even Cassia herself had only gained three skills across her entire career in the Tower. Skills were rare and hard-won, which was precisely why her little sister was exceptional. Cassia raised the clipboard and read the next two names.

"Arthur… and Serena Flamesy." Movement from two different sections of the seating. A boy stood from the middle rows, he had blonde-hair and looked quite handsome for a commoner. And from three rows down, her little sister rose. Serena descended the steps with her arms still crossed, her expression unchanged from when she'd been sitting. She was shorter than Cassia by half a head, but she had the same broad shoulders and the same way of carrying her weight due to her training as a knight.

Her dark red hair was cut shorter than Cassia's, falling just past her jaw, and it framed a face all Flamesy women had, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. But she was beautiful despite all of it, or perhaps because of it. She didn't bother trying to be pretty and ended up striking anyway. Her build was athletic and filled out, her chest ample enough that the fitted combat uniform did little to hide it, though Serena herself seemed entirely indifferent to the fact.

A part of Cassia felt a flicker of sympathy for the commoner boy. He didn't know what he was walking into… Serena Flamesy was a genius. She had already gained a skill from the Tower, gained on the fourth floor, something that Cassia herself hadn't managed until the ninth. Her little sister had surpassed that milestone before most students could even touch skills. Both students stepped onto the platform. The assistant handed them each a thick wooden practice sword, and they took their positions on opposite ends.

Arthur rolled his shoulders once and adjusted his grip, prepared and determined to fight the foe before him. While Serena didn't bother with doing anything, she simply stood with the sword held loosely at her side, waiting. Cassia flipped the hourglass.

"Begin." Arthur suddenly vanished. One moment he was standing at the far end of the platform, wooden sword raised. The next, he was directly in front of Serena, already mid-swing, the wooden blade swinging in a wide arc toward her torso. He was fast. Faster than anything Cassia had seen from a student today. Serena's eyes widened for a moment, and then she grinned. Instead of blocking or stepping back to dodge, she swung downward, hard, aiming for Arthur's head with full commitment. Arthur's sword connected first.

The wooden blade struck Serena across the ribs, but instead of the solid impact that should have followed, it passed through with almost no resistance. Fire erupted along the exact path his sword had taken, a bright line of flame that traced across Serena's torso and vanished just as quickly.

'A skill?' Arthur thought, his eyes flickering to where his sword had passed through, a split second of confusion. Serena's downward swing was already heading straight for his head. However, Arthur twisted his entire body, pulling his head just far enough out of the sword's path. The edge of the practice sword grazed his temple, scraping across the skin hard enough to draw a thin line of red.

He stumbled half a step, trying to recover, but Serena was already pressing forward, her sword coming back up for a follow-through strike. Then, Arthur disappeared again as he reappeared several paces away, back near the far edge of the platform. He was breathing harder now, and a thin trail of blood ran down the side of his face from where Serena's blade had grazed him. He raised his sword again, resetting his stance. Cassia stared at the two fighters. She had assumed this would be a short match.

A commoner with no notable background against her little sister. Cassia had expected Serena to end it in the first exchange. Instead, this boy had actually used a skill! A genius on the same level as Serena in this class? She had heard about the demon incident, but only attributed it to a bit of skill and mostly luck.

'It was the wrong student,' she thought.

'This boy is the one worth watching, not the Duke's daughter.' Up in the spectator seats, Celestia's eyes were different now. The half-lidded boredom from earlier was gone. She watched the two fighters on the platform with focus. Arthur and Serena reset across from each other. Arthur wiped the blood from his temple with the back of his hand, and Serena was adopting a proper fighting stance now, clearly enthralled that her opponent was someone worthy of fighting.

Celestia was relieved that at the very least, this part of the story was still the same.