Loremaster - A Progression Fantasy Adventure, page 54
Interestingly enough, it had been Fiin who had stressed this to him, not Dillo or any of the other party leaders that he had observed. In a way, it made sense. Fiin had been forced to deal with Dillo’s mood swings for over a year now since the formation of their own party in the same class the year before. As the leader, Dillo knew what worked to keep the party happy. Fiin knew what didn’t.
Ten minutes later, they departed the storage room, Morgana locking it with the key that she had been given. It was a silent walk back to the dorm, each person submerged in their own thoughts.
In all honesty, it had not been the worst start, Rowan decided as he walked along beside Droon. Despite his fears to the contrary, they had accepted his plan without too much fuss, and even the lone dissenter, Morgana, had contributed to making it work. As a plan, it was the best they had. Not perfect, but not terrible either. It was the execution that they had flubbed.
Still, this was only the first session. There were another two and a half months to go before the final exam, during which time they would be able to work on their teamwork and hopefully bring it to an acceptable level for the test. So long as things improved, they should do just fine on the exam.
Hopefully.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“They’re hopeless,” Rowan ranted. “Utterly hopeless. I’ve seen uneducated street scum stealing fruits display better teamwork than them. We’re four practice sessions in, and it feels like we’ve barely progressed as a team at all.”
Kanna nodded sympathetically, her hands steepled while on the desk in front of her, a spoon stirred idly under its own power within a cup of tea. Behind her, the last rays of sunlight were still peeking out from behind the mountains, giving the world beyond a few minutes more before the darkness reclaimed it once more.
Catching his breath, Rowan took a brief break from ranting to sip from a glass of water in front of him. He was in Kanna’s office, two books open in front of him and a third sitting to the side waiting to be cracked.
“Honestly,” Rowan sighed. “I know it’s not just them. I’m a part of the team as well. But it’s frustrating watching them fight. I do my best to make it all work, but it’s just not happening. And we’ve only got a month and a half left before exams. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Right,” Kanna said, waving a finger at the teacup as she did.
Immediately, the spoon ceased its movements, completing one last revolution before its momentum faded and the liquid within went still. Taking it out, Kanna sampled the droplets on the spoon and nodded to herself, picking up the cup and taking a sip before letting out an appreciative sigh.
“Master?”
“Hmmm?” Kanna murmured.
“You looked like you were about to say something.”
“Oh, right.” Kanna nodded to herself. “Sorry, it’s just that this tea is so good. An old friend procured it while traveling out east, and he sent me a packet recently. It’s absolutely divine, but I have to ration it, because once it’s gone, there won’t be any more.” Kanna looked sad as she said this, her eyes drifting down towards her mug.
Rowan restrained the impatience he felt towards his whimsical master. “Right, but you were saying?”
“I was going to ask what you’ve tried. From what you’ve told me over the last few weeks, it’s Miss Lunythe and Miss Westmarch that are the main problems, correct?”
“Morgana and Reinne, yeah,” Rowan confirmed. “Droon mostly tries to stay out of it, but he often causes them to fight when he makes mistakes like messing up the formation or attacking the wrong target. He doesn’t mean to, and he’s getting better, but it definitely doesn’t help. The main problem is still the girls, though.”
Kanna nodded understandingly. “Before I go any further, do you feel Mister Glynsen will be up to the task of being your party’s vanguard?”
“I do,” Rowan affirmed. “When it comes to defending, he’s actually pretty good. Not at the elite level of some of the second- or third-year parties I’ve been with, but better than average. It’s when he tries to contribute on offense that things fall apart.”
“And you’re okay with this downside?”
“Yes. Droon’s aware of his failings, and he’s working harder than anyone to fix them. He should be fine as the vanguard for a Brass-rank dungeon.”
“Do the girls feel the same way?”
“If they don’t, they’ve never expressed it,” Rowan replied. “Both of them have helped him with his training, and neither of them have ever asked to switch positions with him, or for me to let him be the loremaster and have one of them take his role.”
Kanna nodded. “In that case, it seems like it’s just a personality clash. Not exactly a surprise since Miss Lunythe’s a part of your party, but not something you can just ignore either.”
Rowan groaned in frustration. “I’m aware. If I could ignore it, I would. I’ve tried ignoring it, talking to them about it, changing up our tactics so that they don’t have to coordinate as much. Nothing works. They always find something to fight about, and then it just spirals downwards from there.”
“Have you tried holding a teambuilding exercise?”
Rowan paused. “A what?”
“A teambuilding exercise.” Kanna waved her hand. “Middle-aged adventurers love them. Usually, they’re just an excuse to go out, have a good time, and get shitfaced—all as a party of course.”
Seeing the skeptical look on Rowan’s face, Kanna grinned. “I say that, but they do work. It’s all about experiencing things with your party by your side. Things that aren’t related to monsters or dungeons. A night on the town, getting together to watch a show, playing cards together. Basically, you’re looking to get to know your teammates better so that you’ll be more inclined to want to help them when the time comes. From the sounds of it, both Miss Lunythe and Miss Westmarch could use some time to unwind, away from the demands of formation drills and tactics training.”
“They could both use a healer to remove the sticks in their asses more like,” Rowan muttered, softly enough that Kanna couldn’t hear him. Regardless, it seemed that his master got the gist of what he was saying, and a delicate eyebrow was raised overtop the teacup that had reappeared in her hands.
“What would you suggest then, master?” Rowan asked, changing the subject before she could ask him to repeat himself.
“I’m not sure,” Kanna replied. “Give me a few moments to think about it. And while I’m doing that, you can tell me how your practice with that new whip of yours has been going.”
“Not too badly,” Rowan admitted. “The various magic properties make it harder to use than the normal whips I’m used to handling, but the base mechanics are the same. I’ve been practicing the exercises you gave me, and I can make it move in the way I want and hit the correct target nine times out of ten.”
“And that’s at the base mana level?”
“Yes,” Rowan confirmed. “I’ve been doing the practice you showed me, inserting different amounts of mana into the whip to see how it changes. I’m still not ready to practice while varying the mana levels, but I want to start soon.”
“Don’t rush it,” Kanna warned. “The two greatest strengths of the arcanowhip are its ability to attack from countless different angles with an intensity that can go from gentle to violent in an instant, and the power that increases the more mana you infuse it with. But it’s those strengths that make it such a tricky weapon to wield. Until you’ve mastered the exercises I gave you, don’t try using it in real combat yet. You’re just as likely to hurt yourself or your allies as you are your opponents.”
“Understood, master.” Rowan paused. “It grows more powerful with more mana? I thought it just grew extra tendrils.”
“It does,” Kanna acknowledged. “But the problem for you is the purity of mana. The arcanowhip is a weapon that grows stronger the greater the purity and density of the mana used to form its whips. Right now, you’re just a mid-Brass tier, so your mana is only sufficient to power it normally. But with each tier you surpass, the whips will grow sharper, faster, and more deadly.”
As if she could tell that he was not getting it, Kanna stopped. “Do you have the whip with you?”
“Yes, master.”
“Take it out.”
Doing as he was told, Rowan retrieved the whip from within a hidden fold of his shirt. Holding the handle lightly, he stared at his master. “Now what?”
“Ignite it, but only form a single tendril. And don’t let it get too long. I don’t need you destroying my floor.”
Obeying, Rowan did as he was asked. A moment later, a tendril of arcane light shimmered in the middle of Kanna’s office.
“Now observe it,” Kanna ordered. “Note the diffusion of light around the edges and the color of the light itself, as well as the thickness. Then when you’re done, give it to me.”
Rowan studied the whip for a few seconds, taking special care to observe it.
“Now watch.” With those words, Kanna ignited the whip, a single tendril spilling from the ebony handle.
Unlike the whip formed by Rowan, this was pure violet, almost blinding in its brilliance. Around the edges, light did not diffuse into a faint halo, but formed a brilliant corona that surrounded the entirety of the whip. It was also much thinner, barely the width of his finger, but Rowan could instinctively tell that the whip in Kanna’s hands was far more dangerous than it had been in his own.
Noting that Kanna was staring at him, Rowan narrated his observations, earning him a pleased nod from his master as she handed the inert handle back to him.
“Good. Now then, back to your original problem. Your team. The dungeoneering team finals are this weekend. You could all go there,” Kanna suggested. “A fun activity, and it will allow you to see what elite dungeon teams look like. Plus your house is one of the finalists this year, for the first time in a while. It certainly wouldn’t be a bad experience at the very least.”
“Ah…” Rowan scratched his neck awkwardly.
Not one to miss such an obvious cue, Kanna tilted her head. “Oh? Is there a problem with what I said?”
“No, it’s just…” Rowan sighed. “Droon’s been badgering me to go for weeks now. He’s a huge fan, attended all the matches during the year and never shuts up about how our team performed. But he wouldn’t stop pestering me about going, so I made up an excuse about having to porter that day to get him off my back.”
“You didn’t want to go that badly?”
Rowan shrugged. “I just didn’t see the point. I have to study; there’s no reason to waste time watching a sporting event.”
“Well,” Kanna began. “It’s not that I don’t see where you’re coming from, but I can’t really recommend it as a good course of action. Grades are important, but so is life, and living only for school isn’t conducive to a very fulfilled life.”
Eyes drifting down, she paused as they came to rest upon the books open in front of Rowan, in particular, the one assigned by her, for her class, the homework from which was laid out before him.
“Of course,” she continued. “It’s not good to ignore your classwork either, but everything in moderation.”
“Nice catch, master,” Rowan said dryly. “But that life lesson doesn’t help me explain to my friend how I suddenly don’t have to delve into a dungeon that day on your orders.”
“On my orders…” Kanna repeated. “You used me as part of your excuse?”
“You’re a professor,” Rowan said simply. “Using your name lends credibility to the excuse.”
“The lie you mean. Stop tangling this web of deceit and just tell your friend that you got the date wrong. You’re going into a dungeon the next day.”
Rowan tilted his head. “But I’m not. How is that untangling my web of lies?”
“Because it’s not a lie,” Kanna told him, a dangerous smile on her lips. “Since you used my name, I can’t possibly allow the impressionable Mister Glynsen to think I failed to find you a party to dungeon with, can I?”
“But I have assignments to work on that day, master!”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you’ve got such a helpful teacher, isn’t it?” Kanna said sweetly. “And since you’re so worried about your assignments, you should probably get back to work. Yours is still two pages too short.”
Suppressing his sigh of long suffering, Rowan bent over the books in front of him as Kanna sipped gently from her cup, the office returning to silence once more.
“I can’t believe we’re all going to watch the finals together!” Droon exclaimed giddily.
He had been overjoyed to hear that Rowan was now able to come, and even more so when Rowan had suggested inviting Reinne and Morgana along.
“The team’s last match was incredible!” he said. “The way Verking used the boar’s head formation to smash the monster blockade in Lykia’s dungeon was amazing, I didn’t even know people could move like that!”
“I was there for that,” said Reinne. “Verking looked so cool leading the team. The others weren’t bad themselves, but Verking is just dreamy.”
Off to the side, Morgana made a face at these words, but mercifully stayed silent rather than getting into it with Reinne. Rowan heaved an internal sigh of relief at this, his senses on edge as they found seats on the stone benches of the arena.
Droon was pointing excitedly at the two teams on stage, talking about the various achievements each member had earned during the regular matches that had been played throughout the year.
The dungeoneering matches were all played out in a large colosseum in the bowels of the academy. Made of stone, the colosseum could seat the entire academy if needed, and was apparently also useful as a safe bunker in times of war.
Right now, the colosseum was decorated with the banners of House Draigwyn and House Turul, the two finalists in this year’s dungeoneering finals. Banners bearing the pale dragon of Draigwyn fluttered magically opposite those bearing the monstrous bird of Turul, all aflutter despite the lack of wind beneath the earth.
They were several levels below the grounds, deep within the bowels of the academy. The depths beneath the academy were home to numerous dungeons, including several that had been cleared out for use by the dungeoneering teams. Each house controlled one, and the monsters, traps, and mechanisms within were all maintained by the dungeoneering teams themselves.
In just a moment, both teams would disappear into the opponent’s dungeon, competing to be the first to reach the end and defeat the boss prepared by their foes. Despite the stakes, neither team seemed nervous, both joking around and checking their gear as they waited for the match to start.
Above them hung a magical projection, displaying close-ups of each team, with particular attention to Verking for Draigwyn and a rather pretty girl that Droon claimed was a slayer for Turul. Once the match started, it would show how each team was faring, or at least that was what Droon had told him. Rowan sighed, normally Droon was somewhat taciturn, but he really did talk a lot when it came to dungeoneering. Even now, Droon droned on beside him, oblivious to Rowan’s thoughts.
“And that’s Jeran, the leader and captain of Turul’s team,” Droon was saying as another face flashed up on the projection. “His team focuses on the fundamentals, and they’re amazing at basically everything. Because they’re all so strong, the monsters within their dungeon are higher tier than most of the other houses—other than Hafgufa—are able to capture. It makes their dungeon tough to beat, especially when Jeran’s leading his team through their opponent’s dungeon at top speed. But I think Verking should be able to do it. He already led the team to upset Hafgufa after all, and they’re known as the best in the school.”
Rowan suppressed a chuckle at this. Throughout the year, Droon’s perception of Verking had slowly leveled up from admiration to full out hero worship, improving with each match they won. Should Verking lead Draigwyn to victory today, Rowan reckoned Droon might just die of happiness there and then.
“It’s about to start,” Reinne called. “I’m gonna grab us some snacks. Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll have a meatball skewer.”
“One for me as well.”
“Do they have apple pie?”
Reinne held up her hands. “I’ve only got two arms, so someone’s going to have to come with me if everyone wants their food.”
“I’ll come,” Droon volunteered, standing up to join Reinne.
Bidding Rowan and Morgana goodbye, the pair left in search of food. Down in the lower bowl, the cooking club had set up shop, and delicious aromas had been wafting up from the lower rim of the colosseum for the last twenty minutes. That they had made it this long without giving into culinary temptation was a miracle.
Left alone with Morgana, Rowan was unsure of what to do. Although she had agreed to come, he could not help but think her taciturn silence was not the attitude Kanna had had in mind when suggesting they embark on a teambuilding exercise. He needed to get her to engage with the rest of the party, the only problem was figuring out how.
“So,” Rowan began. “What do you think so far?”
“I think I could be studying right now,” Morgana lamented. “I have better things to do than ‘hang out’ and watch this.”
Rowan shrugged. “So do I, but if this can help make our party function as a team, then I’m fine with spending an afternoon for that.”
“And you think eating sweets and sitting on uncomfortable stone benches is going to accomplish that?”
“It’s hard to imagine it could make things worse,” Rowan replied.
Morgana had no response for this, and she returned her gaze forward, watching as the referee finished talking to both teams, who shook hands and separated as they prepared for the match to begin. Below, Droon and Reinne were standing in line, talking about whatever it was they talked about, probably their mutual love of Verking. Whatever it was, it was probably a much lighter conversation than this one.
