“You go ahead, Ioviann.” The old man turned to the woman sitting right next to him. Still with a smile on his lips and the calm demeanor that warmed the room.

  “Thank you. I think perhaps we have the same intent here.” The woman named Ioviann returned the favor with a nod, then shifted her gaze toward the other three councilors. “I will be straightforward here. Exile is fine, but it couldn’t be right now. On top of that, the punishment will be lifted once this man — Zalanir, right? — redeem himself at the border.”

  “And what makes you think we would agree to that?” The general smacked the table and stood up. His face reddened, clearly from the anger that he was exuding at the moment.

  “Is there something interesting about this man that you care to share?” the man in charge of the Zerkshi mercenary in Yebin asked, but his eyes weren’t on the woman. Right after the woman made her intention clear that she was supporting him — Zalanir still had no idea what was happening — those acute, predatory eyes had been solely on him, scanning and observing him like goods on the shelf. Feeling only, and he hated this, but Zalanir doubted he would be able to escape if that man wanted harm.

  Strong. Everyone here was a monster compared to him. So this was the elite ruling this city. Cool. He would be like that one day. With what happened in the cultist lair, and with what he had seen from Verizss’ia, he could see a path to that.

  “Nothing in particular. I just feel like we could use a member like him. You know, as someone who will come with us to the promised land.” The woman chuckled, her scarf slid down from her left shoulder, barely hanging on before she put it back into place.

  “My, my, aren’t we in trouble? I also want him to join the academy. We would be able to get this man in good shape and atone for his sin through dedication and achievement fighting back the invaders,” the old man said, still chilling in his chair.

  The situation had just been reversed in a way that was outside of his imagination. He had run plenty of scenarios inside his head, but now it appeared that two of the councilors wanted him on their forces?

  That old man had to be the Headmaster that Dakrua talked about, saying stuff like academy and such. It also fit the typical image of someone who was old, gentle, and had a long beard to top it off. Then, those two women must’ve been from Vendona and Clotserinn, but who’s who?

  Waited! The promised land. Was that the Second Ring? Likely. If that was the case, it was the Vendona merchant guild that wanted him. Weird, though. If it was for his power, shouldn’t it be the mercenary guild? What did he have to offer an organization focusing on trade? Maybe he was wrong, and she was from Clotserinn. That made more sense, given what Dakrua had been praising them for.

  Whatever. All of those options were good. He wouldn’t be forced to go to the border now. At least in the short-term. More time for him to catch up with this world’s knowledge.

  The council kept on arguing within themselves, three different directions for him, but actually, it was two. Exile right away and exile after a short time were pretty much the same, while the general insisted on taking his life. He couldn’t even fault the general for that, as he did in fact murder every enforcer there except the two standing behind him. But that attack. It felt personal, and the anger he had been showing, thus, was a bit out of place.

  In the end, the final decision was exile, but the timing would stay uncertain for the time being until further investigation into the captain’s motive was clear. He would be informed about that later. Until then, he was allowed to stay in the city, but under the supervision of the enforcers.

  Not the best decision that he would’ve hoped for, but not a bad one, either. Annoying, but as long as he wasn’t causing any trouble, that soft custodian shouldn’t be a big issue.

  But things weren’t done here, as the woman from Vendona — it was confirmed after the other woman left the room after winding up the hologram — and the Headmaster were still arguing about who would take him.

  “Let the young man decide for himself, then. Now I’m curious what his choice would be.” The masked man acted as a conciliator.

  Zalanir found it hilarious that only now did someone mention this. Shouldn’t they do that from the get-go, considering he himself could reject even the winner of their arguments? Though this was nice for him. It was like picking between two competing brand sponsors back in the day. The more they fought, the better leverage he had. A tale as old as time in the business world.

  “I’m curious, this man is certainly competent, but it isn’t like you are short of talent in your academy, so why be pushy about him?” The woman started first.

  “Let me introduce myself to the young lad first.” A mischievous grin cropped up on the old man’s face. “I’m Zachiriah, the Headmaster of the Ecilo Academy. I’m not sure if you know this, but we are the oldest and biggest academy here, with over seven thousand students currently enrolling. You can find anything you want in our academy to help with your progression.” The old man paused as if contemplating something for a short while. “What Ioviann said is true, that we have many talented students under our care, but a mage with that epic soul skill isn’t someone we come by often, so I would love to invite you to the academy. I’m sure a certain teacher would like your acquaintance.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “He can help out or come there when he has time, then, no need to join yours in order to do that. Hey, join Vendona. You know how we work. Once we set foot on the Second Ring, the world will be ours. Why stay here?” Ioviann flung her head in his direction, with an arm pressing on the table.

  “Now it’s my turn to ask, what’s the reason? Aren’t you only going this aggressive when recruiting B-grade? For this young man who was still only level 50, I can’t help but feel that you are hiding something.”

  The masked man said nothing, but there was no denying that he was also interested in the conversation. As for the general, he had already left with both Dakrua and Hiina, citing duties and work. Though, right before they closed the door, Zalanir could hear the general commanding the chef to take a closer look at him. He trusted the chef, but with what the man said earlier about responsibilities, he didn’t want to create more trouble for the man. Especially when Irene and the restaurant were already demanding so much attention. He would have to look for a place soon.

  “Just one of my investments. There’s nothing here. I like him, so I want to take a gamble on his future.”

  “Erm, can I ask a question? I think me having an opinion would be fair, no?” Zalanir decided to jump in. Why not lead them a bit here. He smirked internally, but posted a bothered face on the outside.

  “Go ahead,” Ioviann said.

  “First of all, thank you for the favor earlier. If it wasn’t for your opinions, I might have my head cut off already, and not have the chance to even say these words.” Zalanir bowed at the three remaining councilors. The masked man was less of a help compared to the other two, but still, showing appreciation like this wouldn’t hurt.

  He heard a gentle cackle. Low-volume. Male voice. Likely from Zachiriah, but not like it mattered. As there were no other signals, he lifted his head and continued.

  “What I want to ask is that I’m new to the city, currently lodging at Dakrua’s restaurant, but that can’t continue, so is there a place that I can use temporarily until I make enough money to buy one? Also, is there any job that I can take here? To be honest, I’m broke.”

  “You can stay at the academy’s dormitory. Small, but comfortable. Tons of students going here to study also stay there. As for the job, I think I can make some references? The academy has none, but there are plenty in the city that you can take. Not like we forbid you setting foot outside of the school,” Zachiriah said.

  “Is there any … tuition fee?”

  “There is, but you don’t have to pay everything at once. The financial department can give you a loan with flexible terms.”

  As if she was just waiting for that answer, Ioviann interrupted right away, “Whereas you can come to us and solve both issues at the same time. Accommodation? Easy. Consider it done. Tuition fee? None, as we have no academy. You don’t need an academy to be great. Look at those mercenaries or hunters, they just fight and advance their levels. Nothing beats learning with your life on the line. There are always books to supplement your basic knowledge, not to mention the academy won’t teach you complex stuff anyway. Isn’t that right, old man?”

  “Depending on your definition of complex stuff. Everyone’s path is unique, so assuming that you can just follow one’s steps and grow will be foolish. We can only offer guidance from the accumulation of intelligence and experience, but how to make them come across to the doubtful is where we excel. An appropriate and timely counsel could save you months or years of progress.”

  As a teacher himself, though not on the academic side, Zalanir supported that thinking. Without a teacher to demonstrate and correct foundational actions such as forehand, backhand, serve, net volley, or split step, a tennis player would find it hard to advance to a higher level. Provisional or makeshift swings or forms to save a ball worked only at an advanced level, when one already knew what they were doing, but repeating those without the basics instilling would be hard to fix going forward.

  Money would be an issue, and even though he had made the priority to earn more to not stay broke, that tuition fee policy could alleviate the issue entirely at the beginning. Heck, if he was to be sent to the front line soon, perhaps he could default that debt. Yeah, that worked. Who would come after a mere student among those seven thousands to the battlefield just to collect some meager coins?

  The Second Ring opportunity, though, giving that up would be a shame. But not like it would happen in a day or two. Twenty years were a long-ass time. Thinking about it, he just needed to tag along when that happened by making himself a couldn’t-be-ignored powerful individual. Self-worth would decide everything.

  Besides, what would he be doing with a merchant guild? There was no way they would let a nobody like him handle a store, so perhaps being an assistant or a people greeter? That sucked. He would rather be a fighter every day, even with the associated danger. Getting isekaied just to work a desk job that he loathed? Pff!

  He wanted to pit themselves against the other, but with Zachiriah’s genuine explanation, he didn’t think it was necessary. This outcome was good enough.

  As there was pretty much no other argument to be made, Zalanir eyed the Headmaster, words of gratitude almost out of his mouth when Ioviann stood up, left her spot and went toward him. The long black dress came into his full view: quarter sleeves, glittering beaded waistline, with just enough exposure on both sides around the legs to invoke some kind of imagination. If only it had a V-neckline cutting deep. That would be perfect.

  She was almost as tall as him, only shorter by about half an index finger. Her footsteps created no sound, as if she was gliding on the granite floor. A faint sweet aroma similar to that of ripened strawberries struck his nose when she entered within arm’s length. Her hand held a black, spherical object that he only noticed after she jolted her arm up from keeping it close to the body and dropped it on the floor.

  Before he could do anything, a transparent gray booth of some sort separated him and Ioviann from the other two councilors. Despite seeing their bafflement, and the Headmaster’s mouth moving, there was no sound entering his ears. Nothing. Just he and her in this soundproof barrier.

  We all have 24 hours a day. Thank you for spending some of that with me!