The Good Teacher

Chapter 244 Queuing Up



Chapter 244 Queuing Up

Before the sun could breach the horizon and proclaim the start of a new day, individuals across the capital rose and prepared themselves for an event that would rattle the martial topography of the Solar Empire for the coming decade. Today was the start of the Conference of the Solar Sect Alliance... and the Congregation of the Solar Branch of the Co-operative of Teachers.

'Now that's a mouthful,' Guy thought to himself as he observed the fluttering banner hanging above the gate leading into the event hall. A crowd was just forming, as the early risers and event staff scuttled about clearing and preparing the area for the eventual arrival of the Teachers and potential students seeking patronage from those renowned personages.

The Congregation wasn't usually held at this time of the year. The Co-operative had moved the date around to compete with the Sects, who had recently regained some momentum in the past years with a sudden increase in recruitment and fame. And although people respected and preferred Teachers for their accessibility, sects were still the go-to for your average citizen to solve problems of the magical variety. After all, the nature of a Teacher was to float towards where the benefit lay, while sects were tethered to the regions they were established in.

Furthermore, the reputation of Teachers had tanked a bit more recently after the whole "Plague of Dark Cleansing" debacle. After all, the perpetrator was the cherished student of a famous Teacher - a detail the sects made a point to highlight and emphasise at every instance.

It seemed that now they were planning to go all out. Lowering the bar for taking on students, increasing the number of students per Teacher, and running charitable initiatives, they were even going as far as to push forward a fresh and new face that exemplified Teachers. At that moment, the event staff unfurled another poster, revealing the so-called "new face" of the Solar Branch of the Co-operative of Teachers.

Guy nearly choked on his saliva upon seeing the familiar face with the chiselled jawline and piercing eyes staring back at him. 'Jo. Fucking. Way! Of course, it had to be him. Oh no!'

Guy's head swivelled about his neck as he searched for the bane of his existence. After ensuring that the man wasn't around, he released a sigh of relief.

'Could this have been me?' Guy wondered. 'If I hadn't quit, or if Markus' first fight hadn't been with Gaige, I would have also had to come to this event.'

Maybe he'd have achieved some success in Smithing or Enchanting and earned himself a star towards his Teaching licence and even received it amongst all the other Teachers during today's event.

'Again, no point dwelling on what could have been, when I have so many other things to worry about now,' Guy shook his head and turned around. Right opposite where the Teacher's event was being held was the location of the Sect's conference. It was literally the building on the other side of the street.

'These Teachers are not even trying to be subtle at this point. This is just petty.' Guy chuckled as he entered the gates.

To an extent, the layout of the Sect's Conference was similar to the one applied in the Co-operative's Congregation. The outer areas were largely occupied by four large combat fields in a quadrant formation with elevated viewing platforms all around to hold a sizeable audience. Guy wove through the area, avoiding the workers streaming back and forth while carrying chairs, tables and other such items in anticipation of the upcoming event. Mages specialising in ritual formations were working to fortify the area - putting many mages in proximity was always a recipe for disaster, and it was prudent to prepare for any possible catastrophic scenario.

Moving past the open area towards the buildings at the back, Guy followed the directions pointing him towards the 'Sect Registration Area'. The path snaked through a few alleys that nearly caused him to lose his bearings, he'd even backtracked once to make sure that he was following the right path. It was in his second run that he realised that someone had turned one of the wooden arrows to point in the opposite direction which resulted in an endless loop. Guy cursed that sneaky bastard who made him waste his time because the instant he reached the terminus he was confronted by a massive line of people all waiting to register their Sects. Interestingly, Guy found the bastard who waylaid him as the man right at the end of the line turned and revealed a smug smile.

"Was there even a point in doing that? You're only delaying those after you, while you remain at the tail end of the line," Guy said to the man, who in turned coughed in embarrassment and turned to face forward. Guy could only sigh in defeat and assume his position in the queue. He was informed by Korren, the escort from the Whispering Dusk Sect, that one must come for the registration as early as possible since there would be an innumerable amount of upstarts looking to start their own sects.

Mages are fickle and impatient folk when it comes to anything except for cultivation. The registrars are all mages who have advanced far in their cultivation. They would entertain the first few queuers smoothly, however, with each passing individual their patience would grow wearier. Once they snap, the registration will devolve into a free-for-all - a combat competition between the prospective Sect Leaders, the winners of which would be able to register their sects with the alliance.

'It looks like I'll have to get down and dirty,' Guy admitted ruefully, and he didn't like his odds since a few of the men in front of him had cultivations he could not see through. Maybe he could catch his first and second opponent off-guard with his |Soul Coercion|, but what of the others? Right as he descended into a self-derisive internal rant, a voice broke through the din and grabbed his attention.

"Master!" Many heads turned to face the call. "Master! Master Larks!"

Guy peeked forward and saw Markus waving at him from the front of the line. "Master, I've saved our spot!"

A mirthful snort escaped from Guy and his lips pulled sideways with a smile capable of splitting his head in two. With a hop, skip and jump Guy sped past all the scornful faces and met his dearest Disciple at the front of the line.

"Markus, what are you doing here?" Guy asked as he seamlessly replaced his Disciple in the queue.

"Well, I remember Mage Jax talking about how crowded this thing could get, so..." Markus shrugged and waved his hands around.

"How long have you been here?" Guy responded reflexively.

"Since midnight," Markus answered with a tired nod. Before Guy could respond to that shocking revelation, a curt jeer interjected their conversation.

"Hey! What are you doing?" It was the voice of the man standing second in line.

"Yeah! What gives? You can't do that!" The one behind him chimed in.

"You think we're idiots or something?!"

"Get in line like the rest of us, asshole!"

"Woah! That was uncalled for," Guy reprimanded pointedly in the general direction of the man who insulted him.

The person second in line coughed audibly to attract attention and started speaking, "Look here... guy-"

"How'd you know my name?" Guy interjected in surprise

"What?"

"My name... How'd you know my name?" Guy repeated.

"What's your name?"

"Guy."

"Your name's Guy? That's a weird name..."

"It is, isn't it," Guy nodded.

A long pause stretched for an appreciable amount of time before the man realised that he'd lost his train of thought. With a vigorous shake of his head, and with a guttural growl he restarted, "Look here... Guy! What do you think you're doing?"

"What am I doing?"

"CUTTING IN LINE!" The man bellowed, flaring his mana in the process. The pressure indicated cultivation at the Foundation Establishment stage, just a little above Guy's current level, nearly peaking into Core Formation territory.

This wasn't a fight Guy could win... if it devolved into a contest of martial strength. But why wag one's fists when one's tongue and lips could do the trick?

"Hold up. Let's not blow our tops," Guy said while raising his hands in submission. This assuaged the hotheaded man a little and he let the pressure drop.

"Is it illegal for my Disciple to hold my spot for me?" Guy asked.

"No," the man said with a click of his tongue. "But it isn't proper. The Sect Leader must be the one to represent their Sect."

"I agree with you on that," Guy hummed. After a few seconds of contemplative pause, he spoke up again.

"Who here has a Disciple?" Guy asked out loud, directing the question at everyone present. A large portion raised their hands cautiously.

"If your Disciple took the initiative to hold your place in line, without your say, how would you feel?" Without waiting for a response, Guy continued, "Proud? Fulfilled? Pleased?"

As Guy sputtered on with more synonyms, the nods from the crowd increased in number.

"But you know that it isn't proper for your Disciple to take your place in line," Guy switched direction abruptly amidst the nods. "If you were to reprimand your Disciple for their act of consideration even though said act was in no way illegal, how do you think they would feel?"

"Betrayed? Defeated? Despondent?... Do you think they would take the same initiative again?"

The question elicited a "No!" from somewhere in the crowd. Guy held back a smile, knowing that he'd trapped the audience in the flow of his argument.

"If someone else were to complain and disparage your Disciple for their act of consideration, and you complied with their criticism, how would your Disciple feel? How would your image fare in your Disciple's eyes?"

Guy waited for the set-up to level itself before leaping for a metaphorical smash. "Do you think it is right for me to reprimand my Disciple by moving to the back of the line?"

With eerily practised unison, everyone in the crowd shook their heads in denial.

"Thank you for being so accommodating, everyone!" Guy thanked and followed it with a sincere bow. Then, he immediately pivoted and faced the front while trying his best to stop his shoulders from shuddering at the hilarity of the situation.


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