Casual Heroing

Chapter 150: The Nine Towers Academy

I wish I could say I enjoyed the travel, that I saw amazing things on the road, and so on. But the truth is, I didn’t. I absolutely loathed every moment of it. You know that thing about some characters not getting along with horses? Well, that’s me. I had no idea we would ride horses for something like ten days. Even Stanimal was flabbergasted at how much animosity the equines could muster toward me. So much that we even bought a goddamn cart along the way. We had horses provided by none other than the Royal Guard, and we had to attach one to a coach.

After that, the sickness came. Oh yeah, sickness.

I had not had time to heal quickly enough from the soreness in my nether region when I started puking my guts out. And you might wonder, ‘Well, Joey, why don’t you ask the [Supreme Archmagus] for help? He helped a woman with goddamn ninth stage cancer; can’t he do something for you?’

Which is a wonderful question.

To which the answer would be:

Joey Luciani. You might not be a Vanedeni, but you are being taught by one. Stop being a child and learn how to tolerate the […]

You get the gist.

So, yeah. No. No, we are not describing my awful travel. I am not telling you about the beautiful sights I saw or the weird animals Stan presented to me. Why? Because I was puking and feeling sick every other minute. How can a person on a coach feel sick? Beats me. But I was. And I really don’t want to think about it.

When I was thinking about me hitting the academy, I thought about a grand welcome, about [Archmages] lining up to see me, and God knows what. Was there any basis for such a thought?

Not really.

What happened was that I ignored all the majestic architecture to check myself in an inn where I could use the toilet. Then, I kept feeling sick for almost the entire day. Admittedly, one of the reasons I felt so ill was because I kept doing magic math and running simulations in my head. And listen, if, on the one hand, the stupid hat is very powerful and helpful, on the other, it messes up your internal balance and overall perception. It amplifies everything. That’s why I kept puking my guts out during most of the trip.

But I had no other choice.

The clock’s ticking. Lord Juler told me something very interesting about this stupid academy, and that’s the only reason I’ve actually come up here. I couldn’t care less about any duels. Antoninus’s mother has to be healed.

As I finally fall asleep, I ponder the nature of my latest findings. I might have finally managed to recreate something close to gamma rays.

…

Waking up, I find myself staring at a massive snout.

“What the hell, Grigio?” I pull myself up, and the dog looks at me with contempt. What have I done to this animal is beyond me, but he really seems to dislike me. Whatever. As I move, I hear a squeal from my side, and I notice Princess Bianca rousing from her royal lay.

Looking out the window, I notice that it’s still day. I must have slept a couple of hours. I look for a clock on the wall, but there’s nothing in my immediate vicinity. To be honest, I don’t even exactly remember which inn I’m in, if we all checked in here, or if I talked with anyone else from the group.

I mean, our group is actually pretty small. It’s me, Lucillus, Stanimal, and Princess Laura. Oh, yeah, and Domitilla, my new student. Before, I had thought about bringing along either Tiberius or Quintus to open a shop here, but now that we’ve got Camilla and Clodia with us, I needed someone to keep them in check.

Would two veterans suffice?

Only God knows.

Getting out of my room and into a wooden corridor, I instantly notice that the overall quality of this building, a simple inn, is nothing to scoff at. The wood is polished and has a luster to it. Plus, I can feel a slight tingle on my skin. There are enchantments all over the place.

I look at all the doors, and I instantly decide that it’s better I don’t start randomly knocking on strangers’ doors. Instead, I make my way downstairs. Grigio, the dog that apparently magically entered my room, almost trips me on my way down – he runs to a table where I can see all my escorts.

“Yo, wassup,” I wave at them. “What time is it?”

“Lunch,” Lucillus grumbles.

“Lunch? Huh. Well, I think I lost twenty pounds on the way here. Better order something.”

I look around, hoping to find a waitress. When my eyes land on a cheery, hairy, fat man, I feel my appetite fade. He instantly scuttles over to me, almost tumbling. It’s one of the first very fat Elven people I’ve seen. Even though they don’t respect the canons of fairness created by fantasy writers, I’ve rarely seen very fat Elves. And I deal in sweets. So, I should be the prime expert on the subject.

“Hello, dear customer! Welcome to the Drunken Pyromancer!”josei

Wow, an inn in a magical citadel named after something magical.

“Hello, there. Lovely establishment,” I nod to the man. “I’m a bit hungry, and I need to put on some—food in my stomach.” I managed to bite my tongue before saying, ‘put on some weight.’

“Sure! We even have Human delicacies here! Would you like a plate of steamed snail buns?”

“Come again?”

“Steamed snail buns! Humans love them! It’s one of the most popular dishes from the Almiri cuisine! Even if we are at war, it doesn’t mean we can’t share some of the great food our enemies make—”

My brain’s fuse goes out for a moment.

“I’ll take some meat. Even better, some meaty soup. With some bread on the side. If you have magical meat, I’ll take that. No organs, no bones, please.”

I’m not a picky eater, but these goddamn Elves would scare even Bear Grills away with their ruthless chewers.

The server nods and starts rolling away toward the kitchen.

I notice dark faces on Lucillus and Princess Laura. The first is not a surprise, the second a little more so.

“Wassup?”

“There’s already a great commotion about your duels and our possible marriage. Someone let that slip, and now there’s civil unrest. People are running around blabbering about stupid things. If my Ancestor weren’t here, we would be flooded with idiots by now.”

I look at my Stanimal, always calm and collected, feeding Grigio some meat. I have no idea when that happened, but I can see Princess Bianca riding on top of Grigio and taking some food from Stan as well.

That’s my girl.

…

After eating an excellent stew, we move out of the place.

I can finally take in parts of the citadel around the Nine Towers Academy.

There’s something sharp about this city. What immediately stands out is that most buildings are made of solid rock. In Medieval times, that’s very rare. Building such things takes a lot of money. And that doesn’t seem to be lacking here. Many of these buildings are topped by a spire, pointy and majestic – often lined with metal. Thanks to this, glints of light shine around the city like a series of deadly fireflies.

When I feel something hard under my feet, I notice that all the ground has been covered in slabs of rock. It kind of looks like marble, but it’s also different. It’s more uniform and porous. It’s a softer stone that gives a very ‘even’ look to this place. Amorium’s streets are quite clean, but they are still made of dirt. Here, there’s an implied sharp geometry in all constructions. The corners are not rounded but as sharp as possible. I wouldn’t be surprised if the number of kids who cave their heads in here were very high.

There’s only one city in the entire world that gave me a similar feeling to what I’m seeing right now. And that city is Rome. But the thing is, Rome is a mess. The Ancient Ruins are not well kept and barely standing in most places. However, whenever you catch a glimpse of the ones that are still proudly looking up at the sun, you can feel what the ancient Romans felt. You can see their proud civilization if you look deep enough. But just in glimpses, just in passing. It’s a brief summary of one of the greatest civilizations ever to exist.

The most marvelous thing about the sight I have in front of me is that it’s whole. When I think of antiquity, I can rarely picture that the whole city actually looked like those few majestic buildings we have left. Instead, it was probably a cradle of filth and shit – or that’s how I picture it, at least. But here, everything looks like the Colosseum – but the full version, not its crumbled remains.

And this is just the citadel, not the academy proper.

The academy is visible from afar, though. And when my eyes land on it, it takes my breath away.

So far, this citadel has amazed me. Admittedly, many things have —from the Green Walk in Amorium to spells and skills. But, if I have to be honest, nothing has felt properly magical. It’s always been something very elaborate, something that would take a lot of effort but could still be done even by normal Humans. Here, instead, leaving aside the crowd of different races walking around, there’s that special something.

The academy looks like a super-sized version of the Sagrada Familia. It’s like a cathedral but bigger than a skyscraper. But even though the massive spirals could be confused with the actual ‘towers’ of the famous Nine Towers Academy, such a misunderstanding can’t last more than a couple of seconds.

As soon as you turn your eyes away from the main body of the building, you can see nine even taller and bigger towers. They encircle the academy like a crescent moon, holding its back. They look protecting and threatening at the same time.

But what really gives me pause and turns me deaf…

The bridges of light.

I don’t know what else to call them. What I see connecting the academy’s various levels with the towers is a multitude of light bridges. They are static and unmoving, like the rest of the academy. But they arch lightly, with irreverence. They are a part necessity, a part levity. And most of all, they are Light Magic. I can feel it in my core. If the enchantments in the inn made my skin tingle, what I’m feeling now is equivalent to falling in love.

There’s an intimate kinship with whatever magic I’m witnessing, something that runs deep in my class.

The Nine Towers Academy is one of the two great institutes of magic. But it’s the only one that has been historically open to everyone. The other is on Carilia, the continent of many races. And it’s in the Hydras’ nation. We have forced them to accept other [Mages], but the natural disposition of such creatures for magic makes them arrogant. Few decide to tangle with them and their politics. And even Sziezais, the great [Archmage] that led the world war on their side, went to the Nine Towers Academy. He stayed here for centuries before going back.

Lord Juler’s words are like a guide telling the story of this museum in the form of a city.

“Appius and Archmage Titus have already sent invites,” Stan says, interrupting my daydreaming.

After hearing the first name, Princess Laura scowls.

“Appius? Is he still saying that my family arranged our marriage? I swear, Ancestor, I will personally rip off his useless little—”

Stan clears his throat, silencing Princess Laura immediately.

“Joey, the [Archmages] have been informed of your challenge. Few have taken it seriously. They will send someone to test you first. And that’s only because I vouched for you. If you want to play it safe, you might want to consider allying with an [Archmage]. There are seven of them at the academy, even though not all are out in the open. Some are secluded in their towers, researching secrets of magic.”

“Nah, I don’t want to get political. I came here to kick ass and get my hands on some research.”

As I’m talking, the ground suddenly rumbles.

I panic and start to look around me. However, no one seems fazed by anything.

“Well, someone got word of my presence here,” Stan sighs.

As I’m about to ask what’s going on when the sun goes dark for a second. Lifting my head, I see an enormous goddamn golden Dragon fly above us. The streets are extra wide here, but I’m pretty sure that such a creature can’t—

The Dragon descends in free-fall toward us.

Here we go. I’m going to die. Is this the Dragon I stole the stupid book from? I mean, it could be, right? It’s a magic book, and this is a town of magic with a huge, stupid Dragon.

Well.

Here we go.

Eternal rest.

I hope several beautiful virgins are waiting for me in Heaven. But I think I’m with the wrong religion for that.

But then, the massive shadow disappears, and an ordinary man materializes in front of us. Well, ‘ordinary’ might be a bit of a stretch since he’s taller than Stanimal. He looks like a half-giant, and his skin is squamous and golden. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s in front of us.

“Archmage Marcus,” Stan laughs. “Still behaving like a child, I see.”

“King Tiberius, always sulking.”

After a moment, the two hug each other.

“I don’t go by that name no more, Marcus. You can call me Stan now. I want to leave my role in this country to younger generations. I’m done interfering.”

“Oh. Was that a [Ghost Assassin] who dethroned the current Queen and raided the court, then?”

“Almost done,” Stan says with a light smile.

“And that’s the Princess,” the Archmage turns toward us, looking straight at Princess Laura with rainbow-colored irises. “Not bad. She has a decent magical aptitude.”

“And is this thing about a Human wanting to marry her true? Wait, is that the Human?”

Suddenly, Archmage Marcus frowns. Then, he sniffs the air like a hound.

A stray thought hits me.

I’m wearing a hat whose inner lining is made of Dragon skin.

Oh, here we go again.

“Aborted generations,” the Archmage swears, widening his eyes. “Is that Human wearing Juler’sstupid hat?”

Stan turns to me with confusion in his eyes, but then he widens them.

“That’s it! I could recognize the smell anywhere! And it’s lined with Dragon skin! That cheeky bastard! I was barely a kid when I met that idiot! He made that hat on purpose to irritate Witches and Dragons!”

Someone still remembers the greatest [Archmage], I see.

I can hear Lord Juler gloat at the irritation I can now spot on the composed Dragon [Archmage].

I raise a hand in salute and try to smile. To be honest, I’m so close to soiling my pants. I’m stupid, yes. But I’m not so stupid as to mess with Dragons.

“Joey? Is what Marcus says true? Is that the Relic the most famous [Archmage] created to spite an entire Class and race?”

It’s [Supreme Archmagus], you fools.

“Do I have to answer that question?” I ask, grimacing.

“Is he a Vanedeni?” the Archmage asks Stan.

“No, just a normal Human. I don’t actually know where he comes from, exactly. But I vouch for him, Marcus. Keep your claws to yourself. He will also duel with your best disciples.”

“Will he, now,” I can sense some enmity from the Dragon and his blazing gaze pouring over me.

Fear not, student. They might have practiced longer than you. But they are neither made of the same cloth nor have they a teacher worthy of their name. I shall be long forgotten by history the day an untalented Dragon shall instill fear in one of my disciples.

Am I a student or a disciple, now?

You qualify for being my disciple. But I’d rather make it official with a proper ceremony. We will take care of it at a later date.

“Tiberius, why is your student not answering my question?”

I come back to the real world, noticing that I apparently missed a question from the big bad Dragon.

“He’s not my disciple, Marcus. And please, call me Stan. He daydreams, sometimes.”

“How can a person so distracted be worthy of dueling my disciples, Stan? Does he even have any magical aptitude? I can’t see his talent. Is he taking magic seriously, or did he just find a Relic, and now he thinks he can lord over others? And who’s teaching him? If he doesn’t have a teacher, how can he demand to challenge my students?”

The chatty Dragon is still talking, and I have no intention of interrupting him. However, that’s not so true for the person that can randomly take control of my body.

“Disrespect has always run thick in Dragon’s blood. Like Hydras, your lot has always felt superior to the rest of the world. Even if, time and time again, you have been humbled by history. And also, once again, the Nine Towers Academy looks down on those not taught by their clique. But I carry both Lord Juler’s, the one [Supreme Archmage], will and Relic. The only thing that stands between me and a weak Archmage like you bowing to me is a few years. So, Dragon, be careful with your words. This body does not have the blood of a Vanedeni, but it carries all its will, and its wrath shall descend onto you if you intend to insult me any further.”

Everyone fucking freezes at my words. I can feel a hint of piss coming out of me. I have rarely been this scared in my life.

Well, thank you, Lord Juler. I really wanted to die. I mean, why not.

Suddenly, a huge magical pressure envelops my body. But Lord Juler’s currently in charge of it, and he simply laughs at it. The Dragon narrows his eyes, but he relents after a second.

“He talks like that madman, Tiberius. I can’t call you Stan, I’m sorry. Bear with me. Habits and traditions die hard with a Dragon. I will host you as my honored guests if you agree. Your descendants are in my tower, under my people. I think you want to check on them. I’ll have a report drafted for you as soon as we cross the entrance.”

The Dragon ignores my words even if Lucillus, Princess Laura, and Domitilla are as frozen as I am.

“Oh, and you, Human. I shall test your words. If you are found lacking, I’m sure many would be after the Relic you wear on your head. And just as many would gladly take it off of you, with your head still attached to it.”