Ch.8 - Intermission

Emerson walked beside me as we headed towards our next class. The professor's name was Armin Zola, and his class was titled "Introduction to Standard Warfare." As nobles, we were required to understand tactics and warfare, while commoners, lucky or competent enough to be here, were required to learn how to assist their lords.

"Do you have anything to do this afternoon?" asked the dark-haired darkness user.

After briefly thinking about it, I answered, "Probably just some construct training. Why do you ask?"

"Excellent, I was just about to ask you if you had time for a light spar later."

"For sure, what brought this up?"

He paused for a few seconds before answering, "Your fight with the hero."

I waited for him to continue, and he did, "I want to see how I measure up against you."

I smiled, knowing he wasn't telling me the whole story. "If you want a real benchmark, you could ask Anya. After Noah, she is probably the strongest, even if the ranking tries to say otherwise."

"I cannot really ask her," he said while smiling wryly. Wait, is he perhaps...

"Mmh, I guess we have a plan then. Try not to wipe the floor with me too much." We both laughed, and I almost couldn't hear what he mumbled to himself, "I seriously doubt that's going to happen."

Back then, I couldn't understand his reasoning. He was clearly one step above me in the ranking, and while they normally do not say much, as shown by the fact that the saintess is ranked second when she excels in healing and party buffs, the ranking generally mirrors reality. After all, who would have thought that Geralth purposely lowered my actual score? Not that I was that much higher anyway...

Several weeks passed uneventfully.

In the original novel, this arc was filled with the hero getting somewhat bullied by either me or different young masters. In true Japanese fashion, the bullies had to be stronger than the previous ones and all tied in some way to the final boss, me, who had to be defeated in the most humiliating way possible to finally cement the hero as someone not to be trifled with.

The arc wouldn't last very long and had the purpose of letting Quinta slowly fall in love with the MC's greatness while simultaneously getting the future party members interested in him. The arc would then officially end with a minor devil contracting two students to create chaos in the forthcoming dungeon expedition.

Now, why would they let 13-year-olds into a possibly life-threatening dungeon was not explained in the original novel, and neither was it here. I also want to know why they are dispatching a single professor instead of the whole body when they are not really needed in other classes, as Class A has dedicated professors.

Thankfully, I was able to use this time to develop my range and construct control. The lessons on the subject are great, so much so that I basically binged the whole book in advance. The class delves, in particular, into the origin of magical constructs and the theory behind forming those same constructs, providing great practical insight into how to better your craft. I also kept up my spear practice with the instructor provided by the academy to the spear users, Richard Blackheart, brother of the current head of Duke Blackheart, and also conveniently our class sparring instructor.

A voice suddenly pulled me out of the book I was quietly reading in a corner of the school's library. "Young master, the letter has arrived." The mild annoyance at the interruption vanished instantly as I reached for the letter and opened it.

The contents were regarding my business at home, in particular, detailing the precise earnings of the whole gambling establishment, comprising both the main and high-class den, and the high-profile prostitute business (top secret). And since the money was coming in steadily, I decided to allow the opening of a distillery outside the capital. The goal? A research facility for new liquors. Contrary to expectations, liquors weren't technically researched. Beer was the most common one, while wine was made with the high class in mind.

These people found out the properties of yeast by watching what happened to red wine grapes when left on their own. After some time, the first winemaker decided to taste the result and knew he had gold in his hands. In the end, letting the juice age, he found out that it got even better. As such, wine was created.

Soon after, the poor man's drink was born from bread's yeast and called Ale (beer), since after a few drinks, the guests could be seen cheering, and these words were almost completely wasted.

My objective was to create new liquors since, in this kingdom, none seemed to realize the power of alcohol. And since new products almost always ended up failing, the reason? They kept trying to make new kinds of beer or wine, never trying to create something new. What they had was fine (and also probably because devils were at the door waiting to attack, instead of alcohol, maybe it was better to invest in magicians and soldiers).

"Phase two is starting then?" asks Alfred politely.

"Yes, Alfred, it is about time. The profits are big enough to start thinking of burning some cash," I say, nodding.

"Won't that empty your stash pretty quickly?"

"Yes, but what use is gold if its purpose is sitting in my coffers?"

A chuckle escapes him. "Interesting thinking."

After I finished writing my letter and was about to resume my book, my butler once again decided to intervene.

"Young master, have you heard about Kriegspiel?" At that, my heart briefly stopped. A German word?

"No, sir. I have never heard of such a word. What is it about?" Alfred simply smiled.

"I see you are reading about warfare. Kriegspiel is a game invented in the demon realm, popular with their nobility to train young leaders to become generals. I happen to have the sole existing copy in the human realm, and we could play if you wanted to test your knowledge." My eyes were just about to fall out of their sockets at the revelation.

"And you said you have this game?"

A sad smile was revealed. "Indeed, the young lord my previous employer captured had this game with him and taught us how to play."

I simply couldn't hide my bewilderment at the notion. "And why would he ever teach you how to play?"

Alfred sighed. "He supposedly had, in his brain, a long-range communicator. He taught my lord to play to see the tactics he would employ in a mock battle and relay them to his father. When his father then came to attack us, my lord got completely and utterly outclassed, rescuing his child and almost exterminating us all."

All I could offer was a smile of sympathy. I have no idea what it means to lose everything like this. "I am sorry to have you recount all of this. You went through a lot."

"I have mostly moved on, but thank you." To which I just nod.

"In any case, the game has potential, and while I fear anyone else would abhor this game, I think that you, of all people, might be interested to try it out."

"As a matter of fact, I am." Alfred smiled and opened a suitcase containing a huge map of a fictional region.