By Zephyria As planned, I cut the cloth I wouldn’t be using into strips to make string.
Sitting side-by-side, we repeatedly joined, attached, and tied wood pieces together to form a single unit.
We made a long pole and spent a long time paddling to pull the flowers floating on the water, like lotus leaves, to the waterside.
This task was done by several people taking turns. Even with a straight pole, it was difficult to hook and pull them like a claw. The flower stems kept trying to return to where they were rooted, and we couldn’t stop them.
Still, after much effort, we got the hang of it and managed to grasp two of the large, fist-sized Logi flowers.
After carefully placing them in the box, three hours had already passed since we entered the greenhouse.
Jenny, who took out and examined the map she had previously sketched, smiled brightly.
“I think our route planning turned out well. If we go west from here before returning to the entrance, there should be a patch of Moras mint. We can visit that before leaving.”
“Is it because of this assignment that the plants here are all spaced so far apart?”
“Not necessarily. I see that the magic cast in each section is slightly different. The temperature, humidity, and texture of the sand likely affect the growth of medicinal herbs, so they might have been spaced out for that reason.”
“Wow, can you recognize the magic circles cast here?”
“Only the basic ones. Oh, should I write this down too?”
Marianne explained the magic circles she recognized, and I watched Jenny take notes.
Indeed, the direction and strength of the wind in each section followed a pattern that felt unnatural. Even in the Central Plains, endless stretches of sand were only found west of Sichuan. Having never had the chance to visit, I had never seen a desert, and it felt like a dream. I knew of its existence but had never experienced it; it was something alien.
As we busily packed our belongings again, Ivan Holmes, who was usually quiet and never spoke first, thanked us again, saying he felt sorry and grateful for the trouble we went through. I patted him on the back. I resolved to leave quickly before we all collapsed from the sweltering heat.
The path to the Moras mint patch was also one where our feet sank deeply. After much deliberation, I decided to take the lead.
Climbing trees, carrying loads, and exerting strength had taken a toll on my young body, and sweat began to bead on my forehead.
It was a relief that the children stumbled less often, as I stepped firmly, flattening or compressing the sand on the ground to make it firm.
The children chattered away like women gleaning barley ears, picking out suitably sized mint leaves.
Moras mint, I was told, was a medicinal herb whose leaves were plump and covered in fine white fuzz, and it was used as a temporary remedy for stomachaches by chewing the leaves and extracting the juice in one’s mouth.
I, too, picked and chose leaves, listening to the children’s voices.
“I didn’t realize it was this hard when I came with the Professor, but I feel like I’m going to die.”
“Back then, it felt like a nice long walk. The wind was gentle, the ground was firm, and it wasn’t this hot.”
“Professor Cedric is a 4th Circle, right?”
“Yes, I heard he majored in biology and minored in magic, so his Circle isn’t very high. However, he uses life magic as naturally as breathing.”
“When you’re a professor at Shierun Academy, you can’t judge people by their Circle.”
One only had to look at Douglas Mustang, who taught Mana and Aura classes, to know that.
The strong practitioners of the Central Plains considered their power to be their honor. They valued wielding their swords with a proper, dignified posture rather than rolling on the ground. For those of lower standing, they wouldn’t even use their hands. They considered it a virtue not to exert strength for trivial matters unrelated to sword duels.
However, the strong practitioners of Shierun were different. They casually used their power to expand the Qi sense of the children they taught or to make the paths they walked with the children more comfortable. Thinking of how I had also consumed my internal energy to compact the sand, I felt a sense of pride.
In Shierun, those who led did not defeat the masses but guided their allies.
In the Central Plains, they lived by striking down enemies because they were told they had to. But the things I was learning and practicing step-by-step here resonated with my heart.
The journey back, with the medicinal herbs needed for the assignment all collected and packed in the box, was still sweltering, but my heart felt light.
Gathering the exhausted children in a circle at the greenhouse entrance, we sat and waited for the students who had not yet finished their assignments.
As we waited, I realized that being assigned to the desert terrain greenhouse, though physically demanding, was not the worst choice.
The children sent to the forest terrain had gotten lost and wandered in the dense undergrowth, while those sent to the jungle terrain had wrestled with insects. Those sent to the seaside terrain had become exhausted from swimming to enter underwater caves. Only those sent to the plains terrain had returned after a leisurely stroll through the grasslands. Hearing these stories, everyone was busy comforting each other, looking for familiar faces.
However, not a single team had given up or failed to complete their assignment.
Shierun Academy was the highest educational institution in the vast Sierran Empire, and students either paid an enormous tuition fee or possessed talent commensurate with that amount.
Perhaps because of this, they all had a tenacious streak.
The professors were also adept at pushing the children to their limits and no further, so it was perhaps inevitable.
After returning from the seaside terrain, I indulged Shayden’s pleas as he dragged his feet, complaining he had dived eight times to explore the underwater caves. On the way back to the dormitory building, carrying him on my back, the salty scent lingered.
I was curious and amazed by how they had managed to bring so much water into the greenhouse and create caves, and I resolved to visit the seaside terrain greenhouse next time.
❖ ❖ ❖
Since our previous conversation, Lucilla had begun to treat me with extreme fondness and care.
The advanced swordsmanship class suddenly saw a significant increase in participants.
Rubel Anti Sierran, the Crown Prince, and Lucilla Anti Sierran, the Crown Princess, joined Benjamin Claudian and me, who were originally classmates. Matt Nico, a scruffy boy who used to accompany Lucilla, also joined us.
As the five of us walked around in a group, we attracted a lot of attention, and I imagined this must be how the Five Dragons and Three Peaks of the Central Plains felt.
The Martial Arts Alliance of the Central Plains held the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering every three years. Swordsmen were almost always curious about one thing: who was stronger between you and me, and which swordplay was superior when comparing yours and mine.
While they couldn’t openly denigrate each other under the banner of Orthodox Sects, each sect would constantly rank the disciples they cherished and nurtured, predicting which sect would be the best in the next generation.
About three to four individuals from each sect, who were over fifteen years old but not yet thirty, and were considered second or third-generation disciples, stood on the martial arts stage.
Having carefully selected good soil and planted good seeds, nurturing them with care, there were no untalented individuals.
In my time, a disciple from Shaolin vied for the lead with one from Wudang. Mount Hua and Jongnam followed closely, and then individuals from the Five Great Clans would occasionally hold a spot before being pushed out.
As the martial world’s ethos revered strength, the five young men and three women chosen as the strongest of their generation always drew everyone’s attention.
In my youthful days, I had certainly longed to be among them and envied their circumstances.
As I grew older, I befriended some of them and shared drinks, mourning those who had departed. By then, such ambitions had faded like good incense, leaving behind only pleasant memories.
Yet, now, receiving admiring glances from children of that age made me feel awkward and embarrassed.
Recalling that I didn’t feel this way when I drew attention in the Department of Magic, I realized the pride I held as a swordsman, etched into my very being, was quite significant.
It wasn’t without its benefits.
First-rate martial artists of similar caliber had awakened bodies and thus awakened Eye Techniques. They admired the same aspects and felt the same regrets about others’ realms.
When I was with Benjamin alone, I would refrain from speaking my thoughts aloud, but listening to them discuss things I had only considered internally was quite to my liking.
Today’s topic of conversation was particularly about the sparring match I had with Edwin Kiadris.
Though awkward, hearing the match described from an outsider’s perspective, analyzing its form and transitions, and then watching a demonstration was a novel and interesting method.
“At the very beginning, Young Master Kiadris deployed Ice Spear instantly. How did you perceive and avoid it? You weren’t even looking up.”
“It was possible because I extended my Qi sense all the way to the ceiling. Since he used so much Mana at once, it was impossible not to notice if you were nearby.”
“And then you stepped like this, and dodged like this?”
“Using internal energy, no, Aura like this… by lightly exploding it underfoot to increase speed.”
“Like this?”
“No, more like… this.”
“Ah, I get it now. So that’s how you move your body to keep up with Blink.”
“Blink?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? It’s a magic that allows you to move your body rapidly to a visible location. While its principle is somewhat different from spatial teleportation… it has clear limitations because you can only move to places without obstacles in a straight line.”
“Ah.”
There was much to learn.
What was familiar to me was wielding the sword already in my hand and using my own body. As for the names of magic spells and their operational principles, I was practically an outsider.
In this place where teaching and learning were constant, I keenly learned how much more a senior who had enrolled a year earlier would know and be able to convey.
Knowing my interest, Rubel also poured out various pieces of knowledge. However, he was indeed less eloquent than Lucilla, and even when he spoke, his opportunities to do so were often taken away.
At times, I recalled the quiet of late nights, gazing at the stars and calming my inner turmoil. The boy before me, who couldn’t hide his frustration, seemed like a different person from that gentle, reserved boy.
Naturally, our Thursday lunches, which used to be just Benjamin and me, became a meal for five.
During lunch, I learned that Matt Nico’s mother was from the Duke Grimsbein Family.
Although his father was currently just a Viscount, his mother’s lineage meant he had been close to Rubel and Lucilla since childhood.
He said he had known about me even before enrolling, and that because the love story of my Father and Mother was quite famous in the previous generation’s social circles, his own parents had a similarly loud and dramatic romance, which made him curious about me.
Having known nothing about my parents or Matt Nico’s parents before enrolling, I simply nodded and continued eating.
Given the robust and straightforward family tradition of Iron Grimsbane, who favored physical activities, I assumed it was similar to the Peng family of Shierun.
However, when Matt Nico’s mother then recounted how she had “kidnapped” his father, declared her love, and eloped, living in the wild with her parents until she was ten, I was astonished and looked at the scruffy boy anew.
It wasn’t a light anecdote to add to the statement that he wasn’t picky about food during a meal. I felt a sigh escape me, thinking it was even more extreme than the Peng family, but I suppressed it, feeling it would be impolite.