Chapter 160: Institutes

  It was a bright but chilly day in Reinhart, scaffolding and construction sites marking new projects while groups of workers methodically repaired damaged buildings.

  There was a sense of renewal in the air, a newfound purpose that hummed in the bones of the town.

  Inside the Mayor’s office, Abel sat across from Elliot, who leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.

  Stacks of parchment and reports lay neatly on his desk, each page detailing different aspects of Reinhart’s post-disaster reconstruction.

  Despite the workload, Elliot looked composed, his grizzled features betraying only mild exhaustion. The past month had been relentless, but now, at last, there was a clear path forward.

  Elliot exhaled and turned his sharp gaze to Abel.

  “Finding out the organization that governs Reinhart has been quite the shock.” he began, lacing his fingers together on the desk.“The Tower has shared its plans for our humble town,”

  Abel nodded, aware of the fact that the Stone Tower might have contacted Elliot after the disasters.

  Elliot continued, “They want the town to become more than just a stronghold for trade and law enforcement. They see it as a cornerstone for Bask’s new era.”

  Abel nodded again, already having received a similar message through his badge. However, he had received it recently and had not had a chance to fully go through the details after last night's looting session.

  “They sent something similar to me, but I’ve only had a chance to skim through it. The restructuring of Bask’s system, the creation of regional institutions, expanding our influence to the surrounding lands.” His voice was even, but his mind was already picking apart the details.

  Elliot gave a curt nod. “Oh! So you know about the Institute. Don't worry, I'm still reading through it all myself, it's a lot of information.”

  Abel leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. “More or less. But tell me—what exactly did the Tower say to you?”

  Elliot gestured to a scroll on his desk and unfurled it. “I haven't finished reading all of this but, they want to construct a formal institute just outside the town, connected by the new road we’re expanding toward the farmlands. Once established, it will serve as a training and recruitment center for young talents in the surrounding area. Reinhart has been swelling with immigrants, and this will give the youth—many of whom have no place to go—a structured path.”

  Abel raised an eyebrow. “So they want to pull in talent directly from the population indiscriminately. Makes sense. With how many villages and small towns have been displaced, there's bound to be latent potential among them.”

  Elliot nodded. “Exactly. Many of these refugees are desperate for a new start, and the institute will give them a chance to train, learn, and integrate into Bask’s new system, In addition to the payment that families would receive for allowing their children to participate, it feels like a no brainer.”

  Abel folded his arms, his expression thoughtful. “But that’s just one function of the institute. What about the others?”

  Elliot ran a hand through his hair. “Well, the second purpose is to centralize rogue apostles and independent practitioners. Right now, there are plenty of individuals out there who practice magic outside of the Towers’ authority. They’re wandering warriors, mercenaries, or just self-taught talents. Some could be useful. Others? Potential threats.”

  Having recently learned what an Apostle was and grasping the boons that an individual of that realm possessed, allowed Elliot to connect the dots on a few things and comprehend the power structure a little better. It felt as if the Tower had now decided to fully reveal itself to him. However, it was a lot to take in.

  Elliot smirked. “This is a way to draw them in and keep track of them.”

  “Precisely.” Abel gave a dry chuckle understanding it all. “By registering with the institute, they’ll be able to receive tasks, rewards, and structured assignments. It’s a way to integrate them while also monitoring them.” He tapped a finger against the parchment, pointing towards a specific section. “This will apply to apostles and even Pseudos, giving them an alternative path. Even officers like Stuart and Jenny will have the option to sign up.”

  Elliot narrowed his eyes, he had known the last fact but he believed he understood the terms wrongly as the benefits seemed too good to be true. “So, law enforcement will be tied to the institute as well?”

  “Not directly,” Abel corrected. “But officers who register will gain contribution points. Their work in Reinhart or their respective towns will accumulate benefits, making their service more recognized and rewarding.”

  Elliot seemed excited by the development.

  Abel mulled over the idea. This was a radical shift from how the Rollen Kingdom operated. There, Apostles were the elite, separated from the common people, while rogue practitioners were often hunted down for refusing to assimilate into the six affinities structure.

  This new system was the opposite—inclusive, adaptive, and open-ended. He couldn't even picture the reaction of the elitist families within Bask that feel the gifted are superior, let alone the reaction of the Rollen Kingdom.

  It was unconventional.

  But it was smart.

  And, if implemented properly, it could change everything.

  “Who will be running this institute?” Abel finally asked, his voice calm but probing, as he was sure he did not receive details on the staff of the so called “Institute”.

  Elliot leaned back, shaking his head. “That’s something I don’t know yet. The Tower hasn’t sent a name, but construction is set to begin soon. It should be finished in a few months… Besides I'm still wrapping my head around the Idea of apostles and their immense power.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Abel nodded slowly, his mind already turning over possibilities.

  These institutes were important.

  Not just for Reinhart—but for Bask as a whole.

  Outside, the rhythmic sounds of hammers striking wood and muffled voices carried through the night air, a testament to Reinhart’s ongoing reconstruction.

  Elliot leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers against the desk, his brow furrowed in thought. “Contribution coins,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t get the appeal. If it were me, I’d rather take gold. At least I know what I can do with that.”

  Abel smirked, leaning forward with an amused glint in his eye. “You’re thinking too small, Elliot. Contribution coins aren't just some arbitrary reward system. They’re a currency of knowledge.”

  Elliot raised a skeptical brow. “Knowledge?”

  Abel nodded. “They can be traded for magical techniques, rare materials, enchanted items, and even personal lessons from higher-ranked Apostles. The right contribution could mean access to information that no amount of gold can buy.”

  Elliot hummed, rubbing his chin. “So, for someone dabbling in magic, these points could be a lifeline.”

  “Exactly.” Abel tapped the desk lightly. “Think about how many rogue practitioners are out there. People with raw talent but no resources, no formal training. To them, an institute that offers structure and rewards for their efforts? That’s priceless.”

  Elliot crossed his arms and exhaled, his eyes drifting toward the window, where the dim glow of torches lined Pine Street, illuminating the steady flow of workers. “I wonder how many of them are actually in Reinhart, though. Are there even that many rogue individuals to make this worth it?”

  Abel chuckled. “You’d be surprised. Many of them stay hidden. Some work in the shadows, avoiding attention. Others might be right under your nose, blending in with the common folk.”

  Elliot exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “And what about families? Do you think any of them will actually let their kids go?”

  Abel shrugged. “Not at first. Some will hesitate. Magic is feared as much as it is respected. Many will cling to their traditions, reluctant to send their children off to something they don’t fully understand. But over time? As they see results, hear the success stories, and witness the power that knowledge can bring—that’ll change.”

  Elliot stood, stretching his arms before pacing near the large map of Reinhart pinned to the wall. “So, in the beginning, you think we’ll see more people signing up as task-takers and institute members rather than actual students?”

  Abel nodded. “Most likely. Trust takes time to build. It’s easier for an independent Pseudo or a low-ranked Apostle to sign up for tasks than for a family to send their kid away to study.”

  Elliot stopped pacing and turned back to Abel. “That’s all well and good, but how do you separate them? Not everyone has the same strength. We can’t have a newly recruited farmhand with an artifact taking a mission meant for a veteran Pseudo.”

  Abel exhaled, tilting his head slightly. “The Tower has definitely thought that through. I’m sure they’ll provide us with more details on ranking, classifications, and permissions soon enough.”

  Elliot nodded, walking back to his chair and settling in. His expression was contemplative as he glanced once more at the map.

  “The town is growing faster than I expected,” he admitted, rubbing his temples. “Fifth Street is expanding toward the farmlands, and it looks like we’ll have a new road connecting the outer settlements. Some will be stone-paved, others just dirt paths, but it should make travel and trade a lot safer.”

  Abel crossed his arms, gazing at the map as well. “That’s good. Roads mean easier movement, fewer ambushes, and more controlled access. Keeping people out of untamed, dangerous areas could save a lot of lives.”

  Elliot let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe these Institutes, whatever they end up being called, will be a major help in keeping those dangers in check.”

  Abel’s eyes darkened slightly, his mind already working through the implications. “More than that,” he murmured. “They won’t just protect the land. They’ll shape it. The more tasks completed, the more knowledge gained. And knowledge is not only power but control.”

  Elliot nodded slowly. “So, the Towers get trained manpower, the participants get power and rewards, and the Institutes help keep the lands secure.”

  Abel smirked. “That’s the bigger picture.”

  With that, time passed, Abel and Elliot finished their conversation and stepped outside the mayor’s office, the sound of their boots against the stone steps fading into the low hum of the town.

  The cool night air settled over Reinhart, carrying with it the distant murmur of people finishing their day’s work. Abel and Elliot had been in conversation for hours, but it felt like time passed quite quickly.

  Lanterns flickered along the streets, casting long shadows against freshly rebuilt structures, illuminating the once-devastated town with a warm glow.

  The scent of wood, stone, and fresh mortar still lingered—remnants of tireless efforts to restore what had been lost.

  “Well,” Elliot stretched his arms with a tired but satisfied expression, “we’ve got a long road ahead of us, but things are coming together better than I expected.” He glanced at Abel. “Are you still planning to stick around for a while?”

  Abel gave a slight nod. “For now. I’ve got a few things to take care of.” His tone was casual, but there was an edge to his words, a hint of something brewing beneath the surface.

  Elliot smirked knowingly. “You’ve always got something going on. Try not to get into too much trouble.”

  “No promises.” Abel turned, stepping onto the stone-paved road that stretched toward Fifth Street.

  As he walked, the town unfolded before him in a way he hadn’t quite taken in before.

  The streets, which had once been littered with debris and crumbling buildings, now looked alive again. Some homes had been restored, new structures were rising, and the people… they had hope.

  He could see it in their expressions, in the way they moved with purpose rather than despair.

  A few passing townsfolk greeted him with nods, some even calling out his name. "Abel!" someone shouted, a man tipping his hat in appreciation. "Good to see you!"

  A woman passing by with a basket of goods offered a small smile. “Thanks for your help.”

  He responded with a simple nod, not accustomed to this kind of recognition but not rejecting it either.

  It was strange—he had never sought attention, yet here he was, becoming something of a familiar figure in Reinhart. His efforts in rebuilding had not gone unnoticed.

  Unlike the nobles of the town—who rarely walked these streets without a caravan or an entourage, who kept themselves distant from the common folk—Abel moved freely among them. And because of that, they saw him not as a detached elite, but as someone approachable, someone real.

  He continued toward Fifth Street, passing by shops that had reopened, hearing the laughter of children running along the newly cleared paths. The town was healing.

  Soon, he approached the Starry Villa. Though the reconstruction was still underway, the progress was undeniable.

  The exterior walls had been restored, though some scaffolding still lined parts of the structure where workers were finishing repairs.

  Abel stood at the entrance for a moment, his eyes lingering on the rebuilt facade. This place had been destroyed, nearly buried in rubble. Now, it stood tall once more.

  But as much as he appreciated the progress, his thoughts were elsewhere.

  His fingers absentmindedly brushed against the bag of holding at his side, where the spoils from the Murman estate sat in wait.

  He had been patient. Now, it was time to take a proper look at what he had truly gained.

  With that, Abel stepped forward, entering the villa and heading straight for the basement.