Mushoku Impact

"Back straight, legs bent, chin raised! If I catch you slacking off, it's a rod to the shoulder...!"
Gritting his teeth, Paul did his best to stay focused even as his eyes stung from the thick layer of sweat dripping from his brows and body. Reida had him don a pair of stone clubs, each weighing 50kg, before instructing him to stand in a circle populated by mechanical training dummies. Instead of asking him to strike them, however, Reida forced him to squat down, clubs held out to the sides, as the dummies, rudimentary golems, whirred to life. His objective was to prevent the six-limbed mannequins from coming into contact with himself or the stone clubs, a task that was easier said than done as their individual segments spun at varying speeds and directions.
"Fuck...!"
Though he was doing his best to read the movements of the dummies, Paul's arms felt like they were on the verge of dislocating after holding out the tip-heavy stone maces for several minutes. While this might not sound like an exceptionally long period of time, it was a fucking nightmare when a raven-haired psychopath was waiting to smack you with a banded wooden rod every time you attempted to shake off the tension in your joints.
Seeing the tip of Paul's club rebound as it was struck by a mannequin, a fierce gleam flashed across Reida's eyes as she shouted, "Weak...!" in an audibly excited tone. At the same time, she effortlessly weaved between the whirling arms of the mannequins, her hand tightening around the grip of her rod as she attempted to strike Paul's left shoulder. He was allowed to dodge, but she always made sure to attack from a direction that would force him towards one of the rotating dummies.
Feeling his scalp tingle, Paul turned his body and stepped into the path of a mannequin, attempting to slip through to the other side before it could complete a revolution. He very nearly made it, but one of the mannequin's arms ended up striking the stone mace trailing behind him.
"That makes two...!"
Flipping over both Paul and the mannequin, Reida effectively cut off his path of retreat before striking both of his shoulders with measured but lightning-fast strikes. The look he gave her was like a starving beast that had just stumbled across a fat lamb, but she just smiled and backstepped through the gap between two mannequins without even looking.
While resolving himself to fuck Reida's brains out the first chance he got, Paul continued the hellish training for nearly a half-hour before the magic crystals powering the pseudo-golems ran out of juice. However, before he could even think to try and recuperate, Reida tossed him a pair of wooden swords and said, "That should do for a warm-up. For the next hour or two, you'll hold your ground as you try to deflect and parry my attacks. You're allowed to move your feet, but you can't leave that circle."
Using her wooden sword, Reida pointed to a painted white circle that was around 50cm in diameter. An adult of average height and build stood with their feet roughly 35-42cm apart when standing casually, so Paul wouldn't even be able to get into a proper stance while confined to such a tiny space.
"..."
Resisting the urge to complain and call bullshit, Paul made his way over to the circle with a resolute expression on his face. He had decided to spend these next five months improving his swordsmanship, so, even if it turned out Reida was just fucking with him, he intended to take it seriously.
Nodding her head in approval, Reida began to walk clockwise around Paul as she revealed, "As absurd as this may sound, your physique is actually better than mine. The heaviest boulder I can lift is around 700kgs, so your ability to raise over a thousand is nothing short of ridiculous..."
Having completed a full circle, Reida stared into the depths of Paul's eyes as she added, "What you lack, more than anything else, is experience and control. You spend too much time thinking, and your mastery over Touki is a complete joke. If you didn't have such excessive reserves, wearing your Touki as armor would completely exhaust you in minutes..."
As Touki placed an extreme burden on the body, most people only used it in small bursts, specifically during attack and defense. Paul was only the second person Reida had met who could wear their Touki for minutes at a time without collapsing. With the other being the second strongest being in the world, it wasn't an exaggeration to say that Paul could be a monster if he pushed his mastery to the limits.
Excited by the prospect of having a powerful opponent she could face at her leisure, Reida suppressed her slight envy as she said, "As I see it, you have two routes available to you. You can continue wearing your Touki like armor, focusing purely on defense, or you can master using it in small but powerful bursts to drastically increase your speed and power. Depending on your choice, we'll adjust our training accordingly."
Hearing Reida reference his reserves, Paul couldn't help asking, "Is there a way to determine how much Touki I have compared to other people...?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Reida replied, "You could look for someone with Demon Eyes of Power Perception. I've never met anyone that actually has them, but they can supposedly see the 'power level' of other people. It's a pretty worthless ability compared to other Demon Eyes, so, even if they chanced upon the Demon Empress, Kishirika Kishirisu, most people would ask for something different."
"Right..."
Though he would readily gouge out his left eye for such an ability, Paul could understand why others would pursue something else. Unless you were an Assassin or trying to avoid powerful foes, there was no practical use for being able to interpret another person's power level. Besides, just having a bigger number didn't mean you were guaranteed to win. Reida's words made it pretty obvious she had less overall Touki than him, but Paul couldn't even imagine defeating her at his current level...
"Hurry up and decide. If you want to focus on defense, I'm going to keep attacking you until your Touki runs out. If you're going to focus on control, I'll only attack periodically, but you're prohibited from using Touki until the moment my sword touches your body. As counterintuitive as that sounds, it's one of the best ways to use Touki for defense. The moment it spreads through your body, it creates a repulsive force that radiates outward. With proper timing, you can both deflect your opponent's attack and create an opening to exploit. Here, I'll give you a demonstration."
Holding out her hand, Reida made it pretty clear she wanted Paul to strike it with his sword. When he did, Reida's hand barely budged as a numbing sensation, similar to the feeling you would get when striking metal with a sledgehammer, ran up his arm.
Seeing the muscles of Paul's jaw flex, a teasing smile developed across Reida's face as she mused, "See what I mean? It takes a lot of practice and superior control, but it prevents you from simply wasting your Touki. Without it, the average Saint is no better than the average Intermediate Swordsman."
Demonstrating that even she didn't have perfect control, Reida shook out the numbness from her hand as she said, "To be perfectly honest, you're probably better off focusing purely on defense. With that purple-haired monster in your Party, even S-Rank monsters shouldn't give you too much trouble. You just need to focus on surviving and protecting the backline as a middle-guard tank. You are the literal 'heart' of your Party, so everything goes to shit if you fall."
Though she was unaware that the fate of two worlds hinged on Paul's survival, Reida could tell he was 'very' important to the other members of his Party. If he could become powerful enough that the others didn't feel the need to watch over him, his Party could become one of the greatest in history. Hell, they already had at least one God-Ranked individual in their ranks...
Freeing Reida from her wayward thoughts, Paul adopted a wry smile as he asked, "Is it possible to choose both...?"
Blinking back to awareness, a massive grin developed across Reida's face as she replied, "Sure. We'll just have to train you twice as hard. Just keep in mind this is still the Beginner-Rank menu for those chosen to inherit the position of Water God. Once we transition into the Advanced Rank training menu, there's a fair chance you'll suffer a breakdown if you're too greedy."
Leaving Reida feeling but unsurprised, Paul didn't even hesitate before nodding his head and saying, "That's fine. So long as I'm still alive at the end, I'll recover..." in a solemn tone.&nbsp;
Shaking her head in mock exasperation, a faint smile graced Reida's face as she softly mused, "Young and reckless..."
Without waiting for Paul to respond, Reida's right arm became a blur as she abruptly smacked him on the crown with her wooden sword. Things like starting signals didn't exist in active combat scenarios, so, even if it was a little mean-spirited of her, Reida intended to tor&mdash;train Paul until it was nearly impossible to catch him by surprise...
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As news of Paul becoming Reida's successor traveled beyond the walls of the Citadel, a fairly handsome man with sand-colored hair and dark-blue eyes could be seen glaring at the immaculate white structure from one of the Silver Palace's many balconies. He normally wore a smile that gave off the impression of a venomous snake, but his current demeanor was closer to that of a contemptuous God as he imagined himself tearing off the roof of the Citadel, plucking Paul from the inside, and crushing him like the bug he was.
Ignoring the fact he had dispatched a small army of assassins, the sandy-haired man, First Prince Grabell Zafin Asura, muttered, "Despicable cur...I gave you a chance to escape, yet you return to be a thorn in my side? Are you so inept that you simply can't fathom the terror that awaits you if you become the next Water God...?"
Though he probably wouldn't be able to get away with ordering Paul to slaughter his family, Grabell could already imagine the look of terror and desperation on his would-be rival's face as he was forced to torture and maim the members of his Party. Paul was known to collect beauties like they were flowers, so Grabell would have him 'pluck' each of their petals until nothing but stems remained...
Turning toward one of his Guardians, a similarly aged man with sleek black hair and square-rimmed glasses, Grabell commanded, "I am to be apprised of each of Paul Greyrat's activities. I want to know everyone he talks to, everywhere he goes, and even the food he eats. He may have the King's backing, but the same cannot be said for those he interacts with. If he shows so much as a hint of kindness to someone during his stay in the Capital, you are to capture them immediately. If their status proves to be an issue, contact their family and extend a dinner invitation. I'll take care of the rest."
Bowing much lower than was typically necessary, Grabell's personal Knight replied, "As you will, Your Majesty."
Though it would cause several issues if someone were to hear Grabell's subordinates referring to him with the title 'Majesty,' the First Prince had near-absolute influence over the section of the palace he resided in. He had hand-picked each and every one of his servants and attendants, so there was not a single person that was not absolutely loyal or too afraid to offend him. This would be considered excessive by most, but, in Prince Grabell's world, the only form of control that mattered was absolute...
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"Wake up. We've got places to be this morning."
"Nnngh..."
Though he was usually quick to rise, Paul rolled away from Reida when she tried to rouse him. She had been running him ragged for nearly three weeks, both day and night, so he didn't feel like moving now that she had given him a day off.
Prompting Paul awake, Reida created a thread of Electro Energy between her index finger and thumb. The moment Paul heard the tell-tale chirp it made, he instantly leaped out of bed, barely evading Reida's attempts to poke his ass.
Amused by Paul's reaction, a deep-throated chuckle emanated from Reida's throat as she squinted her eyes and remarked, "See? You're full of energy. Now, get dressed. Today may be a day off from training, but that doesn't mean you have time to laze around. We're having brunch with the Dean of the Royal Academy. After that, we'll be attending an Intermediate Swordsmanship class as guest lecturers."
Understanding this was Reida's attempt to help him meet with Philip, a wry yet appreciative smile developed across Paul's face as he offered a curt, "Thanks." Reida rolled her eyes in response, but a faint smile could be seen on her face before she turned away to retrieve a fresh change of clothes. It was pretty common to wear the same outfit for days at a time, but Reida liked to freshen up a bit before venturing into places filled with Nobles. She wasn't particularly self-conscious, but she'd rather not smell like sex around snobby and judgmental 'asshats'...
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After changing into their respective attires, Reida and Paul took a detour around a parade field nearly a kilometer long before entering a building not all that dissimilar in design to the Citadel of Reida. There, after waiting for a short while, they were permitted entry into the Dean's office, within which stood a nearly two-meter tall man with a Hedwig-like owl sitting on his left shoulder.
As could be expected of the most prestigious institution in the Asura Kingdom, potentially even the entire world, the Dean of the Ars Royal Academy was an aged yet gentlemanly-looking fellow that exuded the aura of a Knight and Scholar. He was nearing sixty-eight years old but possessed the physique and stature of someone much younger despite his solid white hair, neatly groomed beard, and stylish mustache.
While Paul was evaluating him, the Dean, more commonly known as Earl Aegir Roehn Whiteowl, was doing much the same. His piercing blue eyes radiated a fierce intellect while the medals adorning his ebony breastplate alluded to the wealth of experience he had accumulated over his decades of service to the Kingdom.
After a moment of tense silence, Earl Aegir offered what appeared to be an approving nod as he stated, "Outstanding. It's no wonder His Majesty and the Water God have taken an interest in you. I sense a phenomenal power within you, but you carry yourself as any respectable man ought to, with measured dignity..."
Not sure how else to respond to the man's words, Paul simply smiled as he replied, "The Earl's words are too kind. I am-"
Before Paul could continue with the pleasantries, Reida abruptly elbowed him in the ribs, saying, "Cut it out. You're no longer a Noble, and we didn't come here to play politics. You're a Swordsman now. Time to start acting like it."
Resisting the urge to point out that 'playing politics' was the exact reason they were at the Royal Academy, Paul ultimately rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya..." in a lazy tone.
Amused by the duo's interaction, a grandfatherly chuckle emanated from Earl Aegir's throat as he reached up to caress his beard. He was a warrior himself, and while he didn't wholeheartedly approve of Reida's words, he understood where she was coming. At his age, adherence to manners and etiquette seemed increasingly like a waste of time...
After his brief chuckle, Earl Aegir sent his owl-like familiar to roost as he suggested, "Let us away to my private conference room. We can discuss the matter of your tenure as a guest lecturer over brunch."
Gesturing to the double doors on the right side of his office, Earl Aegir waited for Reida to practically kick them open before walking around his desk and encouraging Paul to enter before him. Within was a rectangular wooden table that could easily seat twelve people, and, as was often the case in Noble conference rooms and studies, various trinkets and trophies that served as conversation subjects lined the walls and shelves.
Noticing a rather large number of taxidermied owls, Paul didn't even need to ask before Earl Aegir revealed, "It is tradition for main-line descendants of House Whiteowl to have an owl companion. These eight are the friends I have lost over the years. I keep them here as a reminder of my past and to never become complacent..."
Though Earl Aegir was speaking to him, Paul could tell the elderly man's mind was far from the confines of the conference room. It was only for a brief moment, but he had the distant look of someone that had seen and experienced a little 'too much' in life. It was evident that parts of him still lived in the past, perennially trapped in instants where he could have tried just a bit harder to guarantee the outcome he desired...
Noticing Paul staring at him with a mixture of concern and respect, a grandfatherly smile developed across Earl Aegir's face as he muttered, "You're a good lad..." before walking past him and taking his seat at the head of the table. Paul eventually followed suit, sitting next to Reida and ignoring her as she asked, "What the hell was that about...?"
Freeing Paul from the obligation of having to respond, Earl Aegir rang a tiny silver bell that prompted an aged Butler and half a dozen traditionally dressed Maids to enter the room. Reida was a bit of a brute, but she was still the Water God. It wasn't often Earl Aegir entertained guests of such import within the Academy, so he pulled all the stops by having his staff prepare a small feast.
"I was unaware of your preferences, so I had my people prepare a little bit of everything. Please, enjoy. No need courtesy or restraint."
Taking Earl Aegir's words at face value, Reida promptly tore off an entire leg of lamb and began chowing down on it with her bare hands. This was a rather stark contrast to Paul, who, despite his inordinate appetite, took the time to arrange his plate and employ utensils.&nbsp;
With his Butler arranging his plate, Earl Aegir took a moment to look over Paul's and Reida's plates before focusing his steely, blue-eyed gaze on the former as he asked, "While this is a little forward, mind telling me the actual reason you're trying to enter the Academy? You should know that the First Prince has it out for you and your companions. I already warned those two lasses, but I'll afford you the same warning. Never expose your hand before a mad dog unless you're willing to lose a few fingers..."
Though he understood what the Earl was trying to say, Paul didn't have much of a choice unless he wanted to take a back seat and let matters take their course. Approaching Philip might put the man in danger, but it also put him in a better position if he intended to become the future Lord of Fittoa. The First Prince couldn't simply order his execution, so his most likely course of action would be to pull James to his side by promising his support in the upcoming succession dispute.
While the backing of the 'future King' sounded like a tremendous boon on paper, the truth of the matter was that House Boreas had opposed the First Prince, or, more accurately, the Nobles backing him for years. A lot of hardliners within the Capital wanted to 'cleanse' the Kingdom by expelling all non-humans from their borders. If that were to happen, House Boreas, and the Fittoa Region as a whole, would suffer immensely.
Deciding to be partially honest, Paul revealed, "The Lord of the Milbots Region has petitioned me to help smooth relations with House Boreas of the Fittoa Region. To that end, I intend to meet with the First and Second Sons of House Boreas to determine which, if any side, is worth supporting in the upcoming succession battle. When I heard Philip was attending the Royal Academy, I figured he may as well be the first I speak with."
Nodding his head, Earl Aegir's eyes appeared to lose focus for a moment as he muttered, "I see..." in a thoughtful tone. He knew Paul wasn't telling him everything, but that wasn't a surprise. Only knaves and fools revealed more than could be readily verified through observation.
Without actually needing to consider his response, Earl Aegir offered a second nod as he said, "Very well. From today onward, you are free to wander the grounds of the Royal Academy. Certain areas, such as the female bath and dormitory, are understandably off-limits, but you can enter any other facility that isn't labeled as restricted. In exchange, I ask that you assist in the Intermediate Swordsmanship classes at least thrice a week. I believe this arrangement benefits both of us...?"
Returning a nod of his own, Paul answered, "Agreed." in a curt tone. He wasn't too enthused about the prospect of having to babysit a bunch of pretentious Nobles, but at least he would be able to see how things were going in Jean's and Eula's classes. They had said there were no issues thus far, but it wouldn't be the first time they had glossed over something to keep him from losing his cool or going on a rampage.
Seeing through Paul's thoughts, at least partially, an amused chuckle emanated from Earl Aegir's throat as he replied, "Excellent. Then, with that out of the way, why don't we focus on our meal? If we chatter much longer, our raven-haired friend here might eat everything..."
Raising her right brow, Reida ceased shoveling food into her mouth long enough to ask, "You picking a fight...?" in a challenging tone. In response, Earl Aegir immediately shook his head, an amused smile lingering on his face as he mused, "Not even if our ages were reversed."
"Hmmm..."
Though she briefly narrowed her eyes, Reida eventually decided to let the Earl off and focus on her meal. Even in his heydey, Earl Aegir was a mere Sword Saint. He had clearly persisted in his training, but there was no way his aging frame could keep up with the strains of high-level combat. If he could still execute even a single Longsword of Light, Reida would be more than impressed. She may even respect him.
Unaware of Reida's rather rude thoughts, Earl Aegir engaged Paul in some casual conversation as the two of them ate their meals at a relaxed pace. Reida was quickly bored by this, but Paul had always harbored respect for the elderly. He could also count the number of 'reasonable' Nobles he had met on a single hand, so he rather enjoyed the conversation...
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While Paul and Reida were away at the Royal Academy, an auburn-haired man whose expression and gaze exuded resentment seized the chance to enter the Citadel. His rank deterred anyone from getting in his way, so he was able to make his way to the very heart of the Citadel, specifically the instructor housing area.
Though he was tempted to use a magical tool to enter Reida's room, the man suppressed the urge as he stopped in front of a door several rooms down. His knock was initially met with silence, but after knocking several more times, a woman with amethyst purple eyes eventually answered the door, asking, "Can I help you...?" with a skeptical look on her face.
Instead of answering the woman's question, a malicious smile developed across the man's, Water King Vuldar's, face. He had waited for the better part of three weeks for his mother to leave the Citadel, and, now that she had, he intended to make the brat who had soiled her pay...
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Upon returning to the surface, Reida led Paul and the girls to a large, cafeteria-style dining room. Those who moved from the Royal Academy to the Citadel were effectively training to join the Kingdom's military, so their facilities were immaculate and spartan in design.
Before Paul and the rest could even get their bearings, Reida inhaled a deep before abruptly shouting, "Listen up! We've got some fresh blood in the Citadel...!"
Pushing Paul forward with a firm pat on the back, Reida bellowed, "This is Paul Greyrat! Get a good look at him because, starting from yesterday, His Majesty has declared him a Special Envoy of the Kingdom! He is also next in line to become the Water God unless you lot can get your act together!"
Finished with her introduction of Paul, Reida practically pushed him aside before pointing back with her thumb toward Jean, Eula, Ghislaine, Xinyan, Lilia, Ei, and the transformed Ganyu.
"These girls are the members of the B-Rank Party, Einherjar. But don't let their Adventurer Rank fool you. With a single exception, every one of them is at least Saint-Ranked in terms of strength and ability. They'll be helping out around the Citadel whenever they're not performing away missions for the King. You should treat them as you would any other instructor, or you can expect to pay the price with your body."
Though the revelation of Paul as Reida's successor left many with mixed feelings, the atmosphere within the cafeteria changed when the students discovered they would be receiving a bevy of beautiful instructors. A few of the more sensible students understood the futility of lusting after girls who were stronger than them, but this wouldn't be the heart of the Asura Kingdom if there weren't a fair number of arrogant, opportunistic perverts among the crowd. In their distorted version of reality, it was only a matter of applying the proper leverage before girls like Ei, Jean, and Eula became theirs.
With introductions out of the way, Reida turned to Paul and Party as she added, "I would encourage you to mingle, but approaching even the female students would probably lead to them being used against you in one way or another. Lucky for you girls, there's a separate area for staff and people above the Saint Rank. The five of you can join me while Paul babysits his pet and personal Maid."
Hearing Reida's suggestion, Ei was about to protest before Paul cut in, saying, "It's alright, Ei. This is the middle of the Citadel of Reida. Even if someone comes looking for trouble, they can't attack me in the middle of the cafeteria. We can eat together for lunch and dinner. For now, go with Reida. If I'm not wrong, she wishes to discuss your responsibilities as an instructor and what we'll be doing during our training."
Nodding her head in affirmation, Reida appended, "Paul's right. We can't just roam around as a massive group all the time. Besides, a lot of what I'll be teaching Paul is supposed to be a secret, so, unless you girls intend to laze about in your rooms all day, you'll need to familiarize yourselves with the Citadel and prepare to assist with lessons."
Though she would rather battle it out with Ei from sunrise to sunset, Reida felt obliged to train Paul and pass on the legacy of the Water God School. He didn't appear to have a genuine interest in inheriting the rank of Water God, but that was a concern for the far future. All that truly mattered was the present, and, right now, Paul still had a long way to go before he could swagger around a place like the Demon Continent without fear...
With Paul assuring them everything would be okay, Jean, Ei, Eula, Xinyan, and Ghislaine accompanied Reida to the faculty dining area while he, Lilia, and Ganyu made their way over to the queue of people waiting to receive their meals. The Citadel's cafeteria was similar to the school cafeterias of his previous life, so you would pick up a flat tray and move through a line of servers supplying ladles of grits, potatoes, bread, and other staple food items.
Unsurprisingly, Paul hadn't even joined the queue before the person at the end of it, a young man with fiery red hair and rust-red eyes, gave him, Lilia, and especially Ganyu an appraising look as he inquired, "Since when has the Citadel of Reidal allowed beasts to enter its hallowed halls?"
Without missing a beat, Paul countered by stating, "I just arrived the other day. How am I supposed to know when you joined the Citadel...?"
Though it took the youth a moment to understand what Paul was trying to say, his expression subsequently darkened as he asked, "Are you-"
Without waiting for the youth's response, Paul inclined his head toward the line, adding, "The queue's moving up. Don't tell me you need someone to explain how a line works..."
"...!"
With a face nearly as red as hir hair, the youth looked like he was about to roar at the top of his voice before a slightly older-looking fellow with pale blonde hair and blue eyes interjected to state, "Sir Redfox, this is no place to cause a scene."
Recognizing both the voice and its owner, the red-haired youth attempted to forcibly calm himself despite arguing, "This contemptible fellow dared to insinuate I was a beast. It's no wonder the King ordered his exile from House Notos..."
Rolling his eyes, Paul asked, "Are you seriously this daft? Listen, kid, you either believe there's something special about being born a Noble, or you don't. Whether or not I still have my title, it doesn't change the fact that I was born 'better' than you. Now, get the fuck out of my way."
"You...!"
As the youth attempted to reach for the weighted wooden sword at his waist, Paul took advantage of their rather considerable height difference to grab the fiery mane atop the kid's head. Then, with mercy limited to not using Touki, he forced the brat's head down before subsequently driving a knee into his face.
Though Paul had held back quite a bit, a visible indentation appeared to have formed in the red-headed cuntnugget's face as he dropped to the ground with the whites of his eyes showing. This brought the attention of everyone in the cafeteria to Paul as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hand, his voice a calm and deep baritone as he said, "I've you've got a problem with me, we'll settle it like men in the dojo. If you come picking a fight when I'm trying to mind my own business, expect no quarter."
Dropping the used handkerchief on the back of the red-haired youth's head, Paul completely ignored the blue-eyed blonde as he stepped over the former and joined the queue. He hadn't earned himself any favor by trashing the first arrogant piece of shit that tried seeking trouble with him, but it wasn't like the people gathered in the cafeteria had any meaningful power or influence. Most were second, third, or even fourth sons aspiring to join the Royal Knights. Less than ten percent of them would reach the Advanced Rank before taking part in the Knight Selection Trials, while the vast majority would spend their entire lives within the Intermediate Rank. In other words, most of the students within the Citadel were the absolute dregs of Noble society; pure, unadulterated cannon fodder...
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Witnessing the minor kerfuffle between Paul and the Third Son of House Redfox, an amused smile developed across Reida's face. She was a little worried that Paul would try to talk his way out of a dispute or let himself be dragged into the pace of others. While there was nothing intrinsically wrong with engaging in diplomacy, everyone in the Citadel of Reidal was a Swordsman or woman. Only cowards settled things with words when both had perfectly good swords in hand.
Assured that Paul wouldn't be bullied, at least not by the rabble in the cafeteria, Reida walked over to join Jean, Ei, Eula, Ghislaine, and Xinyan. The faculty dining area was more like a restaurant than a cafeteria, so it was possible to sit and have a chat while a team of decently skilled chefs prepared made-to-order meals in the back.
After taking her seat, Reida initiated the conversation by stating, "Just as a heads-up, none of you should reveal anything that could be considered a secret while I'm around. Even if I weren't bound by a magical contract, I'm still loyal to the Kingdom. Expect that I'll be making regular reports to the King."
Acting as the group's representative, even though Ei was much, much older, Jean offered a curt nod as she replied, "Your frankness is greatly appreciated. Now then, what is it you wished to discuss...?"
"Hmmm..."
Passing her gaze over everyone present, Reida resisted the urge to ask where the big-breasted woman with teal-tipped hair had disappeared to. Instead, she said, "I need to know each of your individual strengths and weaknesses. Not in the malicious sense, but in the, 'I need to know what position you qualify for' kind of sense. I know Paul has intentions related to the Royal Academy, so I was thinking of referring a few of you to staff positions."
Nodding her head, Jean muttered, "I see..." before looking over her group and stating, "In that regard, Eula and myself are the most eligible for such an assignment. I am Saint-Ranked in both the Sword God Style and Wind Magic. Eula has yet to receive an official rank, but her swordsmanship is even more refined than my own."
Raising her brows, Reida gave Eula a scrutinizing gaze as she asked, "You haven't received a rank? Why...?"
Maintaining a calm and perfectly composed demeanor, Eula replied, "It was unnecessary. A person's official rank has no bearing on their ability, and I saw no value in obtaining the recognition of Sword King Augusta."
"Hmmm...fair enough. In that case, feel free to call yourself a Water or Sword Saint from now on. If Paul's words are to be believed, you lot are even stronger than him. I doubt Gal will complain...oh?"
With servers bringing over trays of food, a temporary lull occurred in the conversation. It was only once the waiters had returned that Reida said, "Then I'll go ahead and introduce the both of you to the Headmaster this afternoon or early tomorrow morning. I still need to measure where Paul is in terms of strength and ability, so I'll probably be focused on that the rest of the day..."
Shifting her gaze to Ghislaine and Xinyan, Reida asked, "What about you two? Members of the Beast Race aren't that welcome in the Capital, but we can work something out so long as you're skilled. As for you...I'm not even sure what you are?"
Though people with dark skin weren't all that uncommon, they were generally the descendants of a Demonic or Magic Race. Xinyan was an ordinary human as far as Reida could tell, but the same could be said for members of the Migurd and Hobbit Races. The only way to readily distinguish them from humans was with a blood magic ritual sometimes used to determine whether or not a person had a legitimate claim to an inheritance.
With a wry smile on her face, Xinyan replied, "I'm a 100% bonafide human being. As for my talents, my passion is music, but I'm also pretty capable with Fire Magic and a claymore. I've gotten a bit rusty over the years, but I'm at least an Advanced-Rank Water God Swordsman and Saint-Ranked in Fire Magic. I've recently been delving into King-Ranked Fire Magic, but the chants are really janky, so I've been trying to figure out a way to make them more interesting."
Blinking in surprise, Reida remarked, "Unless things have changed while I was focused on other things, the only requirement to call yourself a King-Ranked Mage is being able to cast King-Ranked Magic. So which is it? Are you a Fire Saint or a Fire King...?"
While it was true she could cast King-Ranked Magic with a bit of effort, Xinyan shook her head in response to Redia's words, stating, "The system we use is different from traditional Mages. For us, you don't qualify for the next Rank until you can cast the majority of spells from the previous Rank without chanting."
Opening her mouth, Reida wanted to call Xinyan out on her bullshit but noticed everyone around the table, sans Ghislaine, nodding their heads in approval. That implied that nearly every woman seated across from her was capable of using Saint-Ranked Magic without chanting. If that was even remotely true, the war potential of Paul and his Party exceeded even her wildest speculations...
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Chapter 138: MI138: Control