Chapter 8 | The Assassin Goes to Class
After exercising in the workout room, I took a shower and returned to the apartment.
Before I went to sleep, I took a moment to reflect on the day’s training.
I had succeeded in creating a new killing move. It was a trick that involved the Leather Crane Bag. The maneuver still had room for improvement, but I was happy to have the basic idea down.
Dia had finally established a foundational level of physical strength. Her prior sword training helped her learn the basics in a short amount of time. I planned to move her onto practical training soon. It’s fair to say her training was progressing quite smoothly.
The problem was Tarte.
“…As I feared, her swiftness is becoming too much for her vision.”
Tarte could fight at ridiculous speeds thanks to her training in the Tuatha Dé methods. Her superior physical strengthening technique and the acceleration of her wind affinity also played a part. Unfortunately, her eyes weren’t able to keep up anymore.
She’d be fine against most elite-level opponents, but if her opponent was as strong as my dad or me, she’d go down easily.
There were a few ways to fix this.
The first was to train Tarte to only fight at a pace her senses could keep up with. That was the simplest solution, but it’d also limit her power.
The second method was to give her Tuatha Dé eyes. They would dramatically increase her perception.
My dad had already taught me how to perform the surgery. I needed to practice on someone before I did the procedure on my future child anyway.
But if I failed, it would mean blindness for Tarte.
I at least wanted some kind of practice before attempting the surgery on Tarte. I’d done the operation many times on criminals, but it’d failed on almost all the non-mages. That really only served as a way to memorize the steps in the procedure.
To be absolutely safe, I wanted a mage to rehearse on.
“Next time I get an assassination job, I’ll secure the target for that.”
It seemed the best way for me to get what I wanted. I’d report that I’d killed the target, but instead, I’d kidnap them, practice implanting the Tuatha Dé eyes, then kill them.
The biggest problem with that plan was I wasn’t going to have many assassination opportunities while at the academy. My dad was handling requests while I was away. The only exception would be a target at the school itself. My dad was sure to hand such marks over to me.
A bell sounded in every dormitory, signifying that it was time to wake up. I changed into my uniform, left my room, and went to the living room.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
My uniform was black with a blue outline. I had an armband garnished with the golden symbol of Class S. The armband was a quick indicator of which class a student was in and determined the treatment they’d receive at the facilities throughout the academy.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Morning, Tarte. Your uniform looks cute on you.”
“It fits me well and is really easy to move in. I like it, too.”
Tarte gave a spin, her skirt fluttering in the air.
Her outfit was somewhere between a maid’s attire and a school uniform. The servants’ clothes had a different design so you could tell them apart from the students.
“I think I like yours better. It’s cuter than mine,” Dia said sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she entered the room.
Dia’s garb possessed a more elegant appearance. It hugged close to her slender frame.
“You think so? I think that uniform definitely suits you better, Lady Dia,” Tarte complimented.
“I agree. You look even better in beautiful clothes like that than you do in cute ones,” I added.
“…You’re making me blush. But I’m happy. It’s good that Tarte and I both have outfits that suit us so well,” replied Dia.
I couldn’t have agreed more, just like how more elegant attire suited Dia, cuter garb befitted Tarte.
“You two haven’t forgotten anything, have you? The first day is critical,” I cautioned.
“Have a little faith in me, Lugh,” Dia said back.
“I checked multiple times yesterday, so I’m fine…,” Tarte answered. “Okay, breakfast is ready.”
Tarte brought plates of food into the living room. The main dish was corn soup. She had also made freshly baked bread with lettuce and soft scrambled eggs placed on top. I had some of those after spreading Tarte’s special tomato sauce on them.
“Where’d you get these ingredients?” I asked.
“Last night, someone came to our dorm and asked me if we wanted them to supply us with ingredients to make breakfast or if we’d use the dining hall. I asked for ingredients, and they were delivered this morning,” Tarte explained.
“Good decision. Your cooking puts me at ease. I haven’t been able to relax since yesterday, so I’m grateful,” I replied.
“Yeah, I want to eat with just the three of us every day. This is better than eating at the dining hall,” Dia agreed.
We ended up having a lovely, laid-back meal. We enjoyed some black tea and leftovers from the cake Tarte had baked last night after we finished eating. Before we knew it, the exhaustion from yesterday was gone.
As soon as we left the dorm, Naoise rushed over to join us.
“Good morning, Tuatha Dé. What do you say to heading to class together?”
“Good morning. Sure, let’s go,” I said.
“Ha-ha-ha. It turns out even I am prone to feelings of helplessness when alone. I had quite an unfortunate incident this morning,” Naoise revealed.
“You did?” I asked.
“Yes. I decided to get breakfast in the dining hall. Unbeknownst to me, the seat I chose turned out to be designated for upperclassmen, so I got a good telling off. They were nice enough to let me remain there because it’s the first day, though.”
Our dormitory was for Class S students. That included upper-class students, so what Naoise was describing was possible.
“This rigid system of seniority is annoying. We should be careful of older students going forward,” I said.
“I guess. Some of our seniors seemed easy enough to get along with, so I’ll see if I can’t extract some useful info from them,” Naoise answered with a laugh.
Naoise had also brought a servant to the academy. He could’ve just as easily taken his meals in his room. He’d probably decided to eat in the dining hall because he wanted to build connections. I was willing to bet he’d sat at that upper-class student table specifically to make an impression.
“Just make sure you don’t go too far,” I chided.
“…Wow, you get it, don’t you? Since that’s a warning from a dear friend, I’ll be sure to be careful,” replied Naoise.
It took about three minutes of walking to arrive at our classroom building. We’d come about ten minutes before lessons began, but everyone else was already there.
There were three significant people in my classroom: Naoise Gephis, eldest son of the dukedom of Gephis; Finn MacCool, the second son of House MacCool, a lineage known for their knights; and the hero Epona Rhiannon. Everyone else was excellent in their own regard, but not to the point where I needed to give them special attention.
It was best not to get on the wrong side of Naoise or Finn. They both held high social standings, and most importantly, they were capable combatants.
Finn trumped me in terms of pure swordsmanship. The sharpness of his mind was not to be discounted, either. He’d seemed quiet when I talked to him at the party last night, but his intelligence was apparent. While he didn’t flaunt his ability like Naoise, I needed to be careful around him all the same.
“Good morning.” I greeted my classmates with a smile, and everyone welcomed me back. On the surface, at least, it seemed no one in Class S held animosity toward me because I was the son of a baron.
Naoise said a couple of words to me and then walked toward Finn. He’d undoubtedly noticed Finn’s skill and was probably planning on acquiring him just as he was with me.
Before long, the professor arrived. The bell rang as he walked through the door.
“Looks like you’re all here. I’ll begin by introducing myself. I am your instructor for this class, Miles Dune.”
Like most of the instructors at the academy, Miles Dune had a well-toned body. He was a dark-skinned man with a robust physique, keen eyes, and a presence that suggested he’d seen plenty of combat.
“Every one of you has an ability that separates you from the rest of the first-year students at this school…for now. That could all change in as little time as six months.”
Half a year. That’s when the next exam would be held. Students were moved up and down into the different classes based on the tests held throughout our academy tenure.
“With the favorable treatment you’re all receiving, I bet none of you think you’ll ever lose your spots in Class S. In a way, that’s correct…but don’t underestimate the tenacity of those trying to claw their way up to your current positions. Every assessment period changes the roster. I recommend you all find a sense of urgency. Otherwise, you might find yourselves booted from Class S sooner than you think.”
So even though we’ve succeeded in getting into Class S, we still have to study like maniacs to stay in it.
“Now that the preamble is out of the way, let’s get started with your first lesson. During your two years here, you will gain the education and strength necessary to serve the Alvanian Kingdom effectively… There is one other thing I forgot to mention. You all have obtained the best circumstances possible for your growth. I want you to conduct yourselves appropriately, as Class S is the face of this academy.”
The students nodded, and the first lesson of the year commenced.
We began with Alvanian history. After looking at the other students, I noticed that Epona had his head in his hands. I made a mental note to strike up a conversation with him later by offering to help him study.
Suddenly, I sensed a familiar presence.
I looked out the window and saw a white pigeon flying by.
It was a special messenger bird used by House Tuatha Dé, and it was flying toward my room.
The only ones who contacted me that way were my dad and Maha. It was rare for my dad to send a missive, and I’d only sent Maha the request for an additional investigation into Epona yesterday. Maha was superbly talented, but there’s no way she could’ve sent results back already, so it must’ve been something else.
…I’ll go check that right after class.
If my dad sent the message, then it was probably an urgent assassination job. If Maha was contacting me, then chances were it was regarding some troublesome matter that she and the older brother of my fake identity couldn’t deal with alone.
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