“…24 points, failed!”
‘What? I nearly died and completed an S-ranked quest indirectly, and not to mention I’m the best in this class at most of the magic elements. How can I fail?” Sylvester was shocked and angered at this result.
He knew there was more to it than what meets the eye. So he quickly got up and asked, “Archpriest, can you give me a division of marks?”
Archpriest Edmund looked at the parchment in his hand and asked, “Are you sure? I can give it to you later.”
“No, I want to hear it.” Sylvester insisted because by doing this, he was creating a lot of witnesses to what was happening.
“If that’s what you wish. To all your knowledge, we have divided the results into six segments, each subject having combined marks with its practicals. While the quests that you all went to, holds five marks.
“For Deacon Sylvester, you received five out of five in the theory and practice of Elemental Magic, Incantation, and healing. Meanwhile, for your quest, you received four marks, and for… Runes, you have received zero marks. Since you received a zero in the theory examination, your practical marks were not counted.”
The man also looked strained by this result, wondering how Bishop Norman could be so dumb. But again, when he thought about it, the man reached his position using various strange means. Even while being under-experienced in teaching, he got an important class like this. So he reckoned there was someone behind him.
Sylvester frowned. “What? But how was I supposed to answer questions such as ‘Describe the process of casting Elder Runes.’? Nobody knows the answer to it.”
Bishop Edmund was shocked by that too. The teachers personally gave the questions, and if Sylvester got such a question, it’d mean it was deliberate. “That is indeed an unsolvable question. But that’s just one que—”
Sylvester quickly interrupted and gave examples of more questions. “‘What is the process of making overlapping duel Runes? How is it used?’ and ‘Who discovered Runes first, and how?’ I got these questions too, mentor. One is out of syllabus, and the other has no definite answer.”
“This… I will speak with the Headmaster and get him to re-evaluate your questions.”
But Sylvester was not satisfied. He was irked. Someone was trying to create trouble for him for no reason. He believed in being kind to those who were kind to him and ruthless to those who showed uncalled contempt.
‘Go on. I will be done before that.’ He thought. He had the one-time token to meet the Headmaster anytime he wanted, and he could have gone to him on his own to resolve the matter.
He nodded and sat down to allow the class to end with all results announced. This was it for the day as they were yet to get the books for the next year, so actual classes of year two would start from the next day—giving enough time to Sylvester.
“How did I pass then? He asked me a question about Elder Runes too.” Felix wondered once the Archpriest had left.
“Well, because it wasn’t you who beat Romel,” Sylvester muttered. “But I do wonder what his endgame is? He can’t just fail the peak talent of the whole class. So there are bound to be inquiries.”
“I’m sure once the Headmaster sees the questions, you will be promoted to the next class,” Gabriel said, trying to cheer Sylvester up, not knowing there was no need to.
“Anyway, let’s all eat lunch in the back gardens. I want to know about those who fell. I’m sure the rest of the class holds the same idea.” He spoke loud and looked at the Deacons.
Instantly, the smiles of passing the class faded from their faces, and they nodded. There were even fewer left now, merely 15, as four Deacons failed the class. But, of course, Sylvester didn’t count himself in that.
“Let’s do that.” Everyone agreed with him.
So Sylvester decided to get to the next part of his plan. He turned to his friends and excused himself. “Boys, I will go and meet Bishop Norman and talk to him about my marks. I’ll see you in the garden after that.”
“Be careful. I don’t like that man,” Felix cautioned.
…
Sylvester had to see Bishop Norman in his second office on the ninth floor, where all mentors lived and ate their lunch.
By now, Sylvester had done all the investigation he needed to learn everything about the man. What he eats, where he eats, who he likes, and who he dislikes. However, his first hurdle was to get to the top floor.
There were no stairs to go to the upper floors. All students above first-year and mentors have their names registered in the access registry. Then to get to their floors, all they had to do was walk into a designated part of a wall to magically appear on their floor.
Sylvester did not have his name on the registry. But, he was told by a certain Inquisitor Knight that the one-time token he had gotten from the Headmaster would allow him to reach the top floor, where the Headmaster’s office was.
So all he had to do next was find the man’s office. Over the past few months, he had used the token to get to the top floor and explore it thoroughly.
So now, he went directly to the floor, turned a few corridors, and knocked on the old oak door. It opened automatically in an instant, surely being magic.
He walked inside confidently with curious eyes to look inside.
The man sat inside, on the other side of his table, in his usual robes. He had put his mitre aside as he ate his food like a pig. Sylvester looked around first. The room was lavish, with gold engravings on the ceiling and ornamental decorations. Heck, even the windows had golden frames. There were also books around, but sadly, they did not affect the man as human decency was nowhere to be found.
“Bishop, why did you fail me?” Sylvester asked, showing a fit of anger appropriate for a frustrated child.
The man looked up, angered in an instant as soon as he saw the former. “How did you come up here, boy? Leave, or you won’t even get to sit in this school.”
Surprised, Sylvester wondered where the man got this confidence from. “I will leave, but first, please tell me how to cast an Elder Rune, or tell me who invented the runes?”
“Leave at this very instant! Or I will not be kind anymore. You failed your tests. That’s final. Even if the Holy Father tried, it wouldn’t change my mind. You are the Lord’s Bard, after all. You should know about Elder Runes. Does the Lord not talk to you? Don’t you walk around singing your little poems?”
Sylvester took a short breath and asked. “Why are you doing this? Because I beat your King’s son? Romel? Is that it? I wonder, however, if Romel is getting so much help, you must have reached this position using not many conventional ways too. After all, it’s dark times we live in, even Bloodlings are spawning so close to the Holy Land. Who knows, one might have appeared inside as well.”
Bishop Norman started shaking in anger and stood up abruptly, pointing his finger at Sylvester. “Are you accusing me of being a fraud—a bloodling? I am as powerful as any Bishop and shall be an Archbishop soon. It takes money, resources, herbs, crystals, treasures, and sacred books to grow powerful, some things you will never have.
“Go back to the rathole you crawled out of, you impure boy. No human of your standing can be God’s Favored. A boy born to a whor-”
Woosh!—All of a sudden, a sharp spear made of light magic appeared beside the Bishops’ neck.
“I’d be cautious with the next words, Bishop. That woman has given up a lot for me, and I shall hear no words against her. Not by the likes of you, a man born to lick others’ feet.”
Sylvester looked emotionless, but perhaps that was frightening enough for the Bishop to shut up. The Bishop was dazed as he looked into Sylvester’s golden eyes, finding no pity and utmost resolve.
Bishop Norman gulped, wondering if he should take a calm approach, lest the boy might do something.
Sylvester started to walk around the room while talking. “You know, I was offered help against you by people you can’t even dare to look in the eye. But I refused because revenge is best served cold.”
“What can you do? I have the might of Riveria behind me, the continent’s food basket. I have Archbishops across the Church backing me. You have no authority, no backing here, and just playing on the Holy Father’s lap does not make you his son.”
“Do you still think this corrupt, weak iteration of the church will protect you?”
Sylvester started humming slowly, moved around the room in a particular direction, and stopped. Then he looked at Bishop Norman’s face with false pity. “Aren’t we all his sons and daughters? I guess Bloodlings like you are not. Well, it’s your bad luck that you stumbled upon me. Otherwise, your plan was great.”
Sensing something was coming, Bishop Norman breathed fast. “D-Don’t do something idiotic, boy.”
“Oh no, I won’t be the one doing something silly. Perhaps these few lines of my new hymn will explain better.”
Sylvester started to sing while keeping a big smile on his face. The halo did appear behind his head, but instead of warmth, it spread fear this time, appearing slightly crimson instead of just white.
They strike, again and again!
He says-He says I’m just a boy.
Why would you play me? I am not a toy.
Not once, not twice, there was no end.
They struck him, again and again!
He hoped, soon, they’d make amends.?
Hurt enough, even iron breaks. 𝒃𝙚𝙙𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝒍．𝒆𝒕
When sins go beyond petty mistakes.
Enough!—said the boy, he was none to cry.
For he faced death and looked it in the eye.
Your time’s up, done with all attacks.
It’s time for payback.?
The coward stands now in front.
His actions the boy had taken affront.
Hurt and angered; he was none to cry,
He just came to say the last—goodbye.?
As he finished singing, he removed the light spear from the man’s throat and instead waved his hand. “May Solis teach you Elder Magic in his embrace, Bishop Norman.”
“Wha-”
Bam!—Sylvester backed up a few steps abruptly, slamming himself and shattering the window glass. Uninterrupted, he fell out of the ninth floor towards the hard ground and grass.
___________________
[A/N: Sorry for being late, this Gorilla overslept.]
HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!
**601 Stones = Bonus Chapter!**
APE TOGETHER STRONG!