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After leaving the training ground, the maid on standby led to a guest bedroom with a bath attachnt, and it took so ti to reassure the maid that I did not need help bathing myself before she left alone.
When I turned around from fending off the maid, I noticed that my luggage was in the corner of the room, and there was a fresh set of my own clothes laid out on the bed, “Damn… The Earl’s servants really know their stuff when it cos to service.”
I made my way to the attached bathroom to undress for a hot bath that was already drawn for . It was only as I took off my top that I noticed the bruises and abrasion I received during my spar with Walt.
Of all the injuries I sustained, the main ones were the palm of my right hand from holding the sword that absorbed all the blows, my left arm that I used to brace the flat of my blade against to withstand Walt’s blows, and finally, the foot shaped bruise imprinted on my chest from Walt’s donkey kick.
Fortunately, this was just a test, so I am pretty sure Walt was holding back alot to avoid killing . And as I reflect on things, I am once again slapped with the reality of the difference in weight class, because as skilled as I am with weapons, Walt was competent and well-drilled in the basics to defend himself from my attacks and counters, while using his weight, reach, and speed advantage to kick my ass.
He also has sothing that is hard to train naturally, which is real life and death combat experience. And the only way for to experience that, is to have more assassins try to gank , have bandits attack , or be sent to the front lines when I get older. None of which I want to experience, yet no amount of training with Dad will help because I subconsciously know he is not trying to kill .
But all that is besides the point, now is the ti to soak myself in this hot bath, relax for a bit, and get clean before eting Dad.
As I slowly lower myself in the hot bathtub, I wince at the fresh abrasions I received during the spar when they co in contact with the water, but I eventually subrge myself for a bit before my head erges to rest on the lip of the bathtub and I close my eyes to enjoy the warmth.
***
In a larger guest room sowhere else in the Earl’s estate, Albert was sitting at a finely carved table while going through and marking so papers.
And while Albert was marking, Walt was sitting on a nearby couch with his legs resting on the tea table in front of him, and from the restless tapping of Walt’s shoe on the tea table to a tune only Walt knew, it was evident to Albert that Walt was bored, but it was not his job to keep his escort entertained, it was his job to invigilate, mark, and uphold the rigorous standards of the Royal Academy.
As he closed the folder that contained the exam papers of Luke Ironcrest and put it in his done pile, Walt asked him a question, “So how did the Ironcrest kid do for his written exam?”
Without breaking his stride, Albert took the next folder of exam papers to mark while answering concisely, “Other than a few spelling mistakes, all his answers were correct. Especially the math test.”
Walt gave an impressed whistle, “That's so smarts for a kid his age. How about his spell-slinging? The kid any good?”
At this question, Albert’s quill, which was dipped in red ink for marking, stopped above the paper in front of him as he thought back to Luke’s magic practical test.
After replaying the whole test in his mind, Albert said, “He demonstrated his spells with a good level of control… too good now that I think about it.”
This caught Walt’s attention as he took his feet off the tea table and sat forward to pay closer attention to what Albert was saying, “Oh? How so?” Walt asked.
Albert reached into a suitcase by his side, took out a folder, and opened it, “In his file, it was declared that he had learned magic up to 2nd circle spells but was unable to cast without chants and gestures.
But what I saw suggests otherwise. If what the file on him says is true, he would have at least slightly mispronounced so part of the chant, or slightly fumbled so of the gestures, causing so instability in the spells he cast, but I saw none of that. In fact, he was doing it like he was just going through the motions. At this point, I am even starting to suspect that he cast the spells ntally and did not put any intent into his chants and gestures.” Albert mused as he stroked his short, well-maintained beard.
Hearing Albert’s doubts about his assessnt of Luke Ironcrest, Walt leaned back into the couch as he thought back to the fun bout with the Ironcrest kid, after replaying the fight in his mind a few tis, Walt looked at Albert and said, “Now that I think about it, I think I experienced sothing similar while sparing with that kid.”
This broke Albert out of his pondering, “Indeed? I did notice he lasted a lot longer compared to other testees. How was sparring with the young Ironcrest like, all I got out of you was that he passed.”
Walt just grunted as he took a few seconds to put his experience into words, “Well… Fighting him made feel like I was fighting them assassin types, he very quickly knew he would lose terribly in a direct clash, and resorted to tricks, misdirection, and using the environnt to try and find an opening to strike. And it pains to say he almost got a few tis. If we had the sa build and speed, I would have lost the match. He may not be holding back on like he was with you on magic, but for soone at his age fighting as he does, not to ntion he learned aura recently. At this point, we got a bloody genius on our hands, and just imagine when his father teaches him stamina manipulation… Do you think we will get a bonus for being his examiners?”
Albert chuckled at their luck, of the many Royal Invigilators spread throughout the kingdom, it was his fortune to encounter such a talented young man who could be a great asset to the kingdom in the future, he also chuckled at Walt’s last question and replied, “I doubt it, but I am sure it would look good on our records.”
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