Well, that was entertaining.

  Learning about new magical… stuff and then going through a boring discussion on how mana and other mysterious forces influence each other… Yeah, that part is largely physics and chemistry, and listening to their theories on why water expands upon freezing was gold.

  Since we finished early and the Inscriptography lecture doesn’t start until later in the afternoon, I have time to… to do… I don’t know what to do. Lunch, obviously, but I’ll have two unburdened hours for… I don’t know yet but I’ll have fun.

  Some free time was what I wanted, and now I have it.

  I can already hear the chit-chat and clinking cutlery at work in the cafeteria, a sanctuary of peace with way too many people. After grabbing a plate and asking for one of the twenty-seven items on the menu, I look for a place to sit.

  And almost put my plate back to leave right away.

  There, right at the windows at the back, sit Rona and Adele without a Valka to shield me. As I’m about to blend into the crowd and sit in one of the corners like a social outcast, the eyes of the bird girl land on me.

  My fate is sealed.

  Amid not-so-subtle waving and words lost in the background noise, I arrive to eat with my two new roommates. Truth be told we spent little time getting to know each other after the first day and only spoke a few words whenever we bumped into one another in the common room. It’s in large part my fault, I did not even try even though I promised to myself I’d do better.

  Our different timetables are as much at fault here as the lack of effort I put in to learn anything about them though. And these two are also really, really awkward.

  Rona welcomes me with a small nod, which I return, however, Adele…

  “Hey, how was your day? Are you free this afternoon?” She throws the questions as I begin to sit down, quite a bit bolder than when we first met.

  It looks like she’s discovered a loophole in my no-talks-while-eating rule. She’s not the first, the naive girl. Without answering, I take a bit of the grilled fish with a fiendish smile.

  “Wha-” She catches herself, realizing this is not a battle she can win, so she pouts and starts wolfing down her food to be ready when I finish.

  I take my time, enjoying every bite and relaxing without a rush. I even force my thoughts down about the upcoming lecture and all the questions I have.

  Or at least I try to.

  The problem with relaxing is that it’s basically doing nothing, and that’s boring. I keep eating while letting my mind run about what I should do in my spare time until the fork returns empty.

  “So, I was wondering,” Adele pounces on the opportunity. “There are these guys…” She gulps, and I see her eyes search the ground.

  “Continue!” I can already tell where this is going. This came faster than I thought.

  “Actually, it’s nothing. I think I have to-” She gets up from her seat to leave.

  I’d love to use the stone of the floor to put her back in her seat if only the entire structure wasn’t teeming with mana. So, instead, I draw the water from my glass and slam it into her chest, pushing Adele back where she belongs.

  “You’re a terrible liar.” I tell her with a flat look. “And truth be told, it was only a matter of time… Now, let me at least hear it.”

  Because I can’t promise you more.

  Her eyes well up as I dry her clothes, and I start to fear I have a hand in this.

  “They… they plucked some… some of my f-feathers.” She stutters. “They said it’ll make a nice pillow and that…” She looks at me with shaking lips. “That I have no other use anyway.”

  The usual. Bullying someone for being even slightly different is as natural as Solaire rising at dawn. Heck, if there were only humans in this school, they might start to hate each other for the color of their eyes…

  Am I angry for her? A little. I don’t really know much about this girl, and it was without a doubt that racial differences would be strong in the capital. To top it off, I’m not the type of person to play vigilante or stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.

  “I didn’t know what to do, the three of them-”

  “So what you’re implying…” I keep my voice level and get to the point.

  There’s nothing for me in this. No advantage to getting involved.

  “I- I didn’t want to bother you, and I…” She starts sobbing again. “I just didn’t know who to turn to. Ever since yesterday… I’m scared and can’t do anything about it.”

  Obviously. She’s desperate and sees a way out… in me.

  “So, what can you pay?” I sigh and ask.

  I’m fully aware that I sound like a super jerk. What I’m trying to show Adele, however, is that tears are not a solution. I’ve been mostly raised as a mercenary, a sword for hire to solve any ire. Sort of. I’m no hero, and she can’t expect anyone to voluntarily pick up that mantle.

  Even worse, we’re not friends or comrades or anything... I’m the one they pay to clean up after the hero, and that’s all.

  “Wha… I only have a few silvers.” Adele visibly trembles.

  “Are you for real?” Rona snorts, her eyes clearly viewing me as garbage.

  “You knew?” I turn to Rona.

  “I did, and I directed her towards you. You’re more wicked than the other one.” She nods without a hint of remorse.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I grin, as is befitting someone wicked such as me. “You do understand I have no reason to accept any pleas for help?”

  Just to make it clear.

  “I… yes.” Adele finally answers coherently. “Sorry.”

  This is difficult because helping them out would set a dangerous precedence and draw some possibly troublesome eyes my way. Zero gain besides the favor of a cutie but pretty helpless girl and all the drawbacks…

  “Hmm… Which ones?” I ask. Let’s just say a common plight is enough of a cause for now.

  We’re in the same room which means this girl is mine. That’s all the justification I can muster for now. And if she were to cry herself to sleep it’d also be me listening to it.

  Adele blinks in confusion and then answers with her head down. “Second table… to the right from the door to the park.” I quickly make a small mirror of water and light magic to memorize their faces without making it obvious.

  “Don't go overboard.” Rona speaks up for the first time since I sat down. “Getting expelled for killing them is not the right call.”

  I like her thinking, but I’m not that stupid either. Running to a teacher would be a cowardly and futile move. If the Academy couldn’t root out this kind of behavior, then their methods are probably too soft in the first place.

  It’s been only less than three days… I would love to complain about free time, but this sounds more exciting, and even Val won't be able to chew off my ear for a little bullying in this case.

  I already have a plan. Me going in and strong-arming things would only be a temporary solution and might even exacerbate things. Simply put, Adele needs to show she’s no pushover, which is almost an impossible task.

  To do that, she’ll need a few tools and a short lesson about sound in general, to learn what a dangerous weapon her voice could be.

  “Don’t you worry about me.” I shrug, likely failing to hide my nasty grin and apparent excitement. “I’ll be back.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I make my way to the workshop with the vilest contraption in mind to cause no physical harm but deliver as much emotional damage as possible. Then a little extra for Adele to defend herself and… Huh, what should I demand from her? Wait, no, that almost makes me sound like the villain exploiting the poor helpless girl…

  Damn doing good is difficult.

  ***

  Upon entering the workshop, I quickly claim an empty desk, steal some paper and ink because I forgot to bring my own, and get to work. I only have around an hour or so to complete drawing up the sketch and get everything I need.

  The goal is simple… to humiliate those bastards.

  The housing should be something simple, then there’s the good stuff and maybe a strong burst of wind to deliver the payload… Yeah, that should do the trick. She’ll just need to feed the Rune some mana to shoot and then hold the liquid…

  I keep scribbling with a few heads popping up over my shoulder from time to time, commenting on my work, and adding to my vile contraption. A tension layer so that when the weapon is held horizontally, the load doesn’t leak out, a buffer to let the gust build up a little, flight path stabilizers…

  I swear I’m learning more from fellow students than the professors…

  “Hey Ben,” I call out to the only student whose name I bothered to learn.

  Quiet, yet competent, the only type of person worth bothering with.

  Weirdly, that description fits August perfectly and would make Val a waste of breath… Exceptions reinforce the rule, I guess.

  He is the same age as me, which means he’s my senior. has average looks, although by my standard, and is just simply a useful creature.

  “Yah?” He calls out without looking up from the pieces of metal he’s hammering together.

  I get a little closer for him to hear and not drown out my voice with the sound of metal striking metal. “What are our uniforms made of?”

  It’s a trivial question and the obvious answer would be cloth, however, I need a more precise answer. Different kinds of plants have different mana content and react differently.

  “Why?” He looks at me with suspicious eyes.

  “Don’t worry about it, just keep hammering!” I order with a slight melody to my voice and lean closer to unravel my plan.

  It certainly isn’t befitting someone attending the prestigious institute that is the Academy. Or a fine lady such as myself…

  “What do you need that for, you devil?” He drops the hammer and steps back as if I’ve just committed blasphemy.

  “If you get it I’ll owe you one.” I wink and leave for my next lecture which is coincidentally Inscriptography.

  For one reason or another, the venue isn’t the workshop but a random hall somewhere on the lower floors of the main building. I quickly stop by the dorms to bag some paper and snap myself a pen.

  Yes, snap, as in break a branch of a tree.

  The small plant in the pot turned out to be an Inkblood Sapling. The branches contain an ink-like fluid and they regrow pretty fast so it’s basically infinite quills as long as you feed it properly.

  A little sprint so I’m not late, and although huffing and puffing a little I take a seat before any teacher enters the large hall. There are no tools here, unlike the workshop. The walls are tastefully decorated with what I can only guess are functional drawings of the Flow.

  It’s like seeing pictures of what the result of the inscription should look like, every stroke different depending on the intended element. Zig-zagging for lighting, smooth and gentle for water, thin and sharp for air, robust for earth, and so on. Of course, there’s a lot more to this art than doodling something and hoping for a result.

  The increased diversity is still present, just like in the workshop, although not because non-human races are better at crafting or anything like that. We just aren’t allowed to fulfill bureaucratic or military roles because… paranoia, probably.

  Only humans are allowed to be generals in the military or governors across the Empire.

  Not even a minute after my hurried arrival, not just one but two adults enter the lecture hall. Their height only adds up to a single adult, though, since both the dwarf and the gnome would be easy to lose in a crowd.

  Even before the room quiets down or they arrive at the podium, the dwarf bellows in the usual strong and deep voice I’ve grown used to from his species. “Silence or leave! This profession requires concentration and precision because lives can depend on the quality of your work. If you can’t shut your trap for three hours, then you’re not cut out for being an artisan.”

  The effectiveness of his warning rivals that of Martha’s zaps. The room goes quiet without even the sound of coughing, farting, or loud breathing.

  “Now that we have your attention, it’s time for us to introduce ourselves.” Speaks up the gnome with his considerably quieter voice. “You can call me Naagback, and this is-”

  “Gorfin.” The dwarf introduces himself.

  “Yes…” The Naagback gives him the side-eye and continues. “You might be wondering what led to two teachers being assigned to explain only one simple subject.” His question is met with silence, the aftereffect of the dwarf’s declaration. “We can be… partial when it comes to preferences regarding inscriptions.”

  I can imagine why. Runes for the dwarf and the Grand String for the gnome.

  “And so we’ll teach you both the stable dwarven artisanry and the gnomish analytical crafting.” Adds Professor Gorfin, likely yearning for some of the spotlight himself.

  I think these two might be best pals. Val and I can sometimes guess each other’s thoughts and tell what the other wants before they themselves realize it, but these two can finish sentences like a tag-team.

  “The first branch of the craft to be examined was decided very carefully, to give you a solid basis of-”

  “He won the coin flip.” The dwarf interrupts his scrawnier colleague. “Warm up your wrists because this will take a while.”

  Gnomes are usually calm and composed by nature, although this one seems to be reaching his limit. “Why did I even take this job…” He grumbles not quietly enough. “Indeed, we’ll learn the basics of the Grand String today.”

  He pulls out a scroll from his vest and throws it at the wall to his back after unrolling it. As the paper meets the stone, it merges with it, and a web of magical lines grows out from the center. The thickness of the lines, their curves, and the many additional parts like zig-zagging lines, a circle, and honestly just… It’s a lot.

  “The ancient gnomish inscription technique attempts to mimic the mana vessel found in us Wielders on a theoretical basis. The web has a core where we infuse or store mana while the lines and the forums determine the result. Adding and reusing parts allows for infinite possibilities, however, mistakes on the web create problems just as significant. One poorly constructed line or faulty forum can make any other element obsolete down the line.”

  “It’s overly complex and incredibly fragile.” Comes the short version from the dwarf.

  “Any complex magical item, be that a spatial ring or personal shield, is created using the String because of its versatility.” The gnome hisses in response before clearing his throat. “First, draw a thin straight line with your mana ink or whatever Skill your Class offers for the purpose of making Inscriptions.” I comply, and as it turns out, my Dexterity is nowhere near enough to simply make ramrod straight lines freehanded. “Now connect a triangle at one of its corners, and we’ll draw the core…”

  ***

  “... the radius of the curve is too wide and the line thickness at the earth forum is not up to standard.” The gnome criticizes my work as the lecture comes to an end. “You also forgot to add an equalizer before defining the shape.”

  This is my first real attempt you fucker!

  Gods, how much I hate the word standard already… So what if the lines are not perfect or the mana flow might be too much for the shape to… Oh yeah, it wouldn’t work. Or even explode in the worst-case scenario. Man, this is stupid.

  Of course, I only complain in my head and mutter a weak. “Thank you.” Before taking my paper with twitching eyebrows and leaving the lecture hall.

  Right after stepping through that door, I tear the valuable paper and all my hard work into shreds and set it on fire for good measure. The other students observe my crazed behavior for a few seconds before moving on with knowing grins.

  It’s not that it wasn’t interesting or I didn’t learn anything but more like… I wanted to do creative stuff and not just follow the standard.

  Was it worth anything?

  [Your class Skill [Canals of Mana] has reached lvl 28.]

  [Your class Skill [Perfect Strokes ] has reached lvl 26-> 27.]

  [Your class Skill [Mistakes be Gone] has reached lvl 21-> 23.]

  [Your class Skill [Merciless Scrutiny] has reached lvl 18.]

  [The general Skill [Maintained Magic ] has reached lvl 87.]

  Worth anything it definitely was. Although the improvements themselves speak volumes about my experience throughout this lecture.

  Anyway, Ben should probably have the acid ready, so let’s set up everything for the show.

  ***

  “O~oh Ben!” I skip into the workshop, drawing a few eyes as I look for the poor dude who forgot to say no to my request.

  I find him pretty quickly, sitting at a smelter and pretending he didn’t hear me. As I approach, he holds out a vial without saying a word or even looking my way. He had to have stolen this stuff, probably. Let’s be real; it doesn’t sound like the common material you’d find on any shelf.

  “I greatly appreciate your contribution. It will be remembered.” I giggle and start rummaging through the metal scraps.

  “Please don’t.” He sighs. “And I saw your blueprint, you won’t be able to make the casing, you are no blacksmith.”

  I ignore his considerate but clueless words and keep searching until I find enough mana-poor iron bits. Without smelting or planning or tools, I just slap them onto a workbench and start shaping. It feels like kneading incredibly thick dough because metal is stubborn, and the mana in it is still at least twice that found in the ground.

  Working with metals like this is exactly why I usually avoid it, wrestling every edge and curve is such a pain in the ass.

  “Sloppy work.” Ben comments from my side as the cylinder takes shape.

  “It will serve its purpose.” I respond without any sass. He’s right, it looks like a child made it out of mud.

  Now comes the interesting part, adding the Runes. Since I only know symbols of the Runecraft, and even those just barely, I make the most use of the books I got from the library and the fellow artisans around me.

  I turn down every offer to do the finishing touches for me and draw the lines of the ancient dwarven mana language carefully onto the metal. The metalling ink and Mana Channels create a rim of liquid repelling force around the edge of the container connected to the bottom where the airburst Rune is and where the mana is to be supplied.

  Done. Not perfect, but it's functional.

  “Who’s the prey?” Asks one of the students, recognizing the liquid and putting one and one together.

  “Some douchebag.” I really don’t know their name. “I’ll be back with the results.”