Wren didn’t take my money, but he gladly accepted my recommendation. It took some convincing, but in the end, the Guildmaster agreed to take him in. Being a thane came with many perks, one of them was that the people in the middle of the totem pole indulged my requests, no matter how outlandish they were.

  Not that this request was so outlandish. The Guildmaster underestimated how important handymen were, and it was only when I started listing all the small imperfections of the guild building that he saw my point. Although the old man didn’t say it out loud, I understood he was reluctant to accept Wren because of his Class. There was a lot of prejudice around Menders.

  Mender was considered one of the worst, if not the worst, Classes one could get. Their growth rates were laughable, even among support classes, and their skill pool was almost nonexistent. Above all, Menders couldn’t create anything on their own; they could only repair what others had made. As such, they were seen as lazy people who did not contribute significantly to society by the System itself.

  It was a cruel verdict considering everyone in Ebros essentially misunderstood how the System worked. I just hoped Wren was smart enough to make the most of the opportunity. Kili assured me that, even with his strange demeanor, he was an excellent Mender.

  After Kili’s incident, life quickly returned to normal. When I came back to the dormitories, I pulled out the stitches and chugged a Health Potion. All my wounds closed, leaving tender scar tissue that was easy to hide beneath my clothes. Although it wasn’t particularly late, the teacher’s lounge was deserted, so nobody saw my shredded mantle and torn breeches.

  The next day, I returned the circlet to Aeliana. To say she was happy was an understatement. She looked at me as if I had saved the life of her favorite puppy. I was surprised that a stack of Favorite Teacher didn’t pop in front of my face.

  Aeliana didn’t even ask me where I had found it, and I kept Kili’s secret.

  Wren’s words stayed with me over the subsequent days.

  Ever since I decided to become a teacher, I’ve found myself feeling a bit cynical about the goals of other education majors. Changing the world was a tall order. Besides, about half of my fellow classmates at college had as much vocation as a muddy potato, and only saw teaching as a safe career path. However, regardless of my cynicism, Wren and my old classmates were right. One way or another, I had become a teacher to change someone’s world, just like my father had changed mine.

  “Come on, sleepyheads, we are behind schedule!” I shouted as the cadets exited Cabbage House.

  “Has there ever been a time when we have been on schedule?” Leonie asked between yawns.

  As far as I knew, no teacher ever was on schedule, anywhere, at any time.

  “You know the drill. Let’s get started,” I said, hanging my jacket off the well’s beam. It had been two weeks since the beginning of Cabbage Camp, and the cadets knew the routine by heart.

  “Are you joining again?” Aeliana asked while she braided her long gold-and-silver hair.

  “Recent developments have made me realize I need to be in top shape,” I replied, slapping my legs. “Don’t mind me. I’ll take up the rear.”

  Rup sighed; that was usually her job.

  “Sheesh, if you don’t want to jog with me, I will give you a head start,” I said, putting on a wounded expression. Rup rolled her eyes while the other cadets laughed. After two weeks together, they were picking up on my sense of humor.

  As dignified as the Knights Course was, we still could have fun in the meantime.

  The cadets gathered around the well and departed in a group, just as I had insisted day after day. I wasn’t particularly worried about aerodynamics. I just wanted them to become a close-knit group, maybe even friends. If what Zaon told me was correct, one or more selection exams would have a collaborative element, and I wanted all of them to have a solid safety net in case they had a bad matchup.

  A hundred friends were better than a hundred copper coins, after all.

  “Rob? A word before you go?” Talindra stopped me. Maybe the greatest improvement in the last two weeks was in Talindra’s confidence. “I followed your advice. I observed the cadets like you told me, and I saw something worrying yesterday.”

  I wasn’t sure if Talindra had understood the slight difference between surveying the classroom and spying on the students. However, the more Talindra learned, the more confident she was around the class. Clarification could wait.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Rup was having supper alone in the dining hall when a group of Rovhan’s students approached her. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but they didn’t seem friendly at all,” Talindra whispered.

  Somehow, Talindra didn’t seem worried.

  “Rup didn’t mention anything,” I pointed out.

  “Because nothing happened. Malkah and his friends appeared out of nowhere and formed a wall around Rup. They got into a scuffle, but the wardens separated them before it could escalate.”

  I nodded in silence.

  “I think they are starting to get along better,” Talindra said with a pleased expression.

  I scratched my chin.

  Although it sounded like an isolated incident, I couldn’t help but suspect something more. Rhovan and the Knights didn’t like me, and they definitely didn’t like Talindra. She avoided talking about the ‘Cabbage’ incident like the plague, despite the fact that it was so widespread that even cadets called her by the nickname behind her back. Sure, every teacher had a secret nickname, but Talindra’s wasn’t a student-given nickname.

  I suspected the other instructors had given it to her.

  “Malkah defending Rup. That’s curious. I still can’t figure out Malkah, to be honest,” I said. It wasn’t even a discrepancy between his words and actions—Malkah didn’t say much anyway—but a disparity between his actions in class and actions with Ralgar.

  Talindra gave me a quizzical look.

  “When I first met Malkah, he punched a Kigrian Herbalist called Ralgar and smashed his pumpkin plot… well, Odo and Harwin trampled the pumpkins. Then, Odo came for me,” I said.

  Talindra seemed sadder about the smashed pumpkins than Ralgar.

  “Oh… that’s why you offered those three the opportunity to change classrooms?”

  I nodded.

  The fact that Malkah didn’t take the offering was even more puzzling. After the scene, nobody would have expected any of the sides to maintain a neutral stance. However, Malkah had been open to my teaching methods and hadn’t complained once about the near-tyrannical regime I’ve been making them endure. Odo and Harwin were like chameleons. Besides their overprotectiveness towards Malkah, they followed whatever their lordling did. In practice, that translated into a low-profile presence, almost like a white noise in the background of the classroom.

  “I think you should ask him,” Talindra said. “If you notice something odd with your student, it’s a good idea to ask them what they have in their minds.”

  I grinned. She was already quoting me.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “You are learning well,” I said, picking up the pace. “I will ask him.”

  Talindra pulled out a small notebook from the folds of her robe, wrote something down, and gave me the thumbs-up. For the past two weeks, I have been teaching her how to teach. I figured out that I would need the help of like-minded people if I wanted to leave a mark on the world. Teaching kids was my main quest, other than saving the System, but that one seemed to be on a grinding pause before the next big event. However, I had knowledge that could change the teaching landscape in Ebros. If I could train other teachers who thought like me, like Mister Lowell, I could make an even greater change.

  Without knowing it, I had already started spreading the gospel. Lyra Jorn and Elincia had been strongly inspired by my teaching methods, and even Holst had gone out of his way to try to mimic my educational success. Part of me suspected that Zaon, Wolf, and Ilya unconsciously applied some of the most basic precepts of discipline and focused improvement to their cadet squads.

  Unfortunately, disclosing my methods had a downside or two. Educational science was a tool; without a strong sense of morality steering the wheel, it could be used to teach both beneficial and harmful things. And, on a more practical side, I wasn’t sure if Prince Adrien would be happy if I disclosed the secret of my success to every dukedom out there.

  “That’s a problem for the future, Rob,” I muttered.

  Right now, I need to focus on Talindra and the cadets.

  I jogged down the cobbled path, across the inner wall, and down the hill towards the meadow. The cadets were a line of ants running around the lake. To my dismay, no magical creatures lived there, although it was probably for the better. Having a giant kraken living in the pond where cadets dipped their feet didn’t seem the most responsible decision for an adult to make.

  I quickened the pace and caught up to Rup by the grove after going around the lake.

  “They are giving us weird looks,” I said, pointing at the cadets sitting by the lake. Their jackets had a small sword pin in the collar, which meant they were second years.

  “It’s always like this,” Rup replied. “They think we are weird… I mean, it is weird. I don’t get why we are doing this instead of focusing on sword drills or sparring. We will level up and become faster and stronger, even without this exercise.”

  “And yet you are doing it,” I pointed out.

  “Zaon said it worked.” Rup huffed. “But it is weird still.”

  We jogged between the lake and the grove in silence. Squads of gardener gnomes weaved spells upon the meadow, making the bad weeds wither. Others replaced a rotten plank of the old dock. Lord Hastur cared about keeping the Academy spotless, almost like a fairy tale castle. The teacher’s lounge was a relic of a different era, where Imperial Knights were the workhorses of the army instead of political figures and proof of the kingdom’s strength.

  “A bird told me you had an unfortunate encounter with the cadets of another section,” I said.

  Rup looked away, but she seemed to understand she wasn’t getting rid of me. She couldn’t outrun me, and if she dragged, I would have her do penalty squats until lunch. Finally, she gave up.

  “I didn’t provoke them! They just think we are weird, that we don’t behave like proper recruits. They said I am a puppet weirdo and called me ‘Rup the Runt!’” the girl said, coming to a stop.

  “And then?” I asked, stopping by her side.

  “Then Malkah and his bodyguards arrived and pushed them away.” She shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I could tell she was affected by the incident.

  I sighed, wondering how a single word could raise doubt in people's hearts.

  “You are not a puppet weirdo, Rup. I’ve been reading about Puppeteers, and I know it requires a lot of skill to be a competent one,” I said, and her ears flicked as soon as I complimented her. “Let’s do this: I will talk to Instructor Rhovan so he can talk some sense into his cadets, and in the meantime, you can also do something to be safe.”

  Rup gave me a curious look.

  “And that is?”

  “You need a new brood. Befriend Malkah.”

  Rup shook her head and dismissed my words with her hands.

  “Malkah is the son of a duke!” Rup said, her voice hushing into a whisper. “And he is scary.”

  “And yet, he helped you. I think that is a great start. Besides, Odo and Harwin are also commoners. Malkah doesn’t seem to be bothered by interacting with them,” I said, picking up the pace. “What is the worst that could happen?”

  Rup stood frozen in the middle of the meadow.

  “He’d think I’m a weirdo!” the girl yelled.

  “Good! It’s okay to be a weirdo!”

  Classroom Cabbage was responding positively to my training. The first week was pure suffering, but they were getting accustomed to the physical conditioning at a surprising rate. Even Rup, who had been the weakest link of the bunch since day one, was getting stronger. Her endurance had improved drastically, and she was no longer left lying on the ground in the middle of the warm-ups. It had been thanks to Wolf’s [Sanctuary] that I could push the kids to the brink of failure every day without injuring them.

  The Wolfpack had just been dispatched to a small mining town near the Blacksmoke Mountain, between royal land and the Herran dukedom, so I could no longer count on Wolf and Firana, at least for the next two weeks. The town had a small monster problem, so the Imperial Academy decided to send a third-year squad to exterminate them. Despite my concerns, Wolf reassured me that everything was under control. The monsters in the town's vicinity shouldn’t exceed Lv.20, while every member of the Wolfpack was between Lv.20 and Lv.30.

  I had to remind myself that those kids survived a full-fledged Monster Surge.

  That didn’t stop me from secretly enchanting part of their gear.

  After an hour of jogging, I stopped by the gate and stopped the march. Rup took a minute to finish the lap, which was a giant leap considering that a week ago she could barely finish the whole race. The cadets gave me quizzical glances as they caught their breath.

  “Aren’t we only halfway through?” Leonie asked, her face drenched in sweat.

  “Yes, but Wolf isn’t here today to help us recover, so we should be prudent with the intensity of the workout,” I said.

  “Wait… it might be too late to ask for clarification, but you weren’t making us run for the pleasure of watching us suffer?” Fenwick asked.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Mister Fenwick, every single exercise is finely tuned to improve your chances of passing the selection exam,” I replied, keeping my best teacher’s voice. “Seeing you suffer is only a bonus.”

  Leonie cracked as soon as I finished the last syllable. She was the only one who enjoyed my dry, slightly lame teacher’s humor. I couldn’t legally say I had a favorite student, but Leonie was scoring a lot of points.

  “Let’s go,” I said, turning towards the open gate. “Wolf’s absence doesn’t mean we aren’t going to train hard. We will cut strength training and sparring in half, but double the sword drills. Let’s go.”

  The cadets grumbled but ultimately obeyed.

  Talindra awaited us with a bucket of fresh water and a few wooden mugs. The cadets pounced on it like hungry hyenas. Despite the relaxed social norms at the Cabbage House, Leonie and Yvain still maintained a certain air of distinction. If there weren’t mugs, they wouldn’t drink with their hands, no matter how thirsty they were.

  “Talindra will oversee the strength training,” I announced, clapping my hands. “Rup, if you can make your puppet do push-ups at the same time as you do, those count as two. Okay?”

  The girl’s face gleamed. Controlling a puppet while moving was tricky, but it was the ultimate challenge for a Puppeteer. The sooner Rup crossed that barrier, the better for her future at the Academy would be.

  Fenwick raised his hand.

  “Do I get credit for Dolores' push-ups?”

  The cadets exchanged funny looks.

  “Yes,” I replied, to everyone’s surprise. “Good luck making Dolores do push-ups, though.”

  The frog watched our exchange from her little wet ceramic plate and turned around before Fenwick could even ask for her help. Spirit Animals were an unruly bunch. Dolores might have picked Fenwick as her companion, but those two had much to deal with before becoming a real team.

  As the group followed Talindra, I approached Malkah.

  “Can we talk for a moment?” I asked.

  Malkah nodded, his pale face devoid of emotion. Much like boyfriends, most students usually assumed they were in trouble when asked for a talk. Malkah didn’t seem to.

  Odo and Harwin also broke ranks, but I stopped them.

  “In private,” I said, and Malkah signaled them to follow the group.

  Odo and Harwin obeyed.

  I guided Malkah to the cabbage patch, away from the eyes of the class. The boy didn’t seem scared or anxious to return with the group. Malkah was like that. If he was ordered to run, he ran. If he was ordered to carry Rup on his back, he didn’t even blink twice. If he were ordered to live in a shabby old house, Odo and Harwin would complain about it regardless of whether he cared.

  “I heard you had troubles with the cadets of Rhovan’s class, that you got in a fight,” I said, but instantly regretted my choice of words.

  Malkah lowered his head and clenched his jaw; not paralyzed, but bracing for an impact. This wasn’t the first time Malkah had reacted like a scared dog. Then it hit me. I have seen this reaction before—many times.

  I felt a knot forming in my stomach.

  “Malkah,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Relax, I’m not going to hit you.”

  The boy raised his head, although he kept his jaw clenched in case it was a fake out. I fed mana into [Foresight] and examined his expression. Every single muscle in his body was tense, although he seemed to know how to hide it. My mind raced through the facts—his words to Ralgar, Odo and Harwin’s overprotectiveness, his below-average Confidence yet high Resilience, and his defensive demeanor every time I singled him out. Flinching. Tensing. Shrinking.

  “Malkah, I want you to look at me and tell me the truth,” I said slowly. “Does your father beat you?”