Lord of Rot

In January, while it was still cold, a boy with yellow hair, around ten years old, wore a new, padded cotton jacket that was clearly too big for him. He sniffled and asked his friend, ”Little Snake, do you think we have a chance of being chosen?”

He was still young, but he spoke like a world-weary old man.

The boy called Little Snake had a stern expression, his eyes filled with anxiety. ”I don’t know,” he replied.

The Lord had suddenly announced that he would be testing for aptitude and recruiting Magic Apprentices.

Anyone who wasn’t a fool knew what Magic meant.

Those noble scholars, though commoners by birth, earned the respect of Lords and even the King.

Even for those who didn’t, the legends of Magic could be heard in the tales of traveling merchants, Minstrels, or the stories told by their elders.

It was said that with Magic, one could escape a life of mediocrity and rise above the common person.

Many people had come to participate in the test today. The Lord hadn’t placed any age restrictions on the selection, so one could see toddlers who had just learned to talk, as well as elderly folk leaning on canes for support.

Everyone wanted to become a Magic Apprentice.

”My father said that when you go into the castle to see the Lord, you have to be neat and clean,” the yellow-haired boy said, pointing to his clothes with a sheepish grin. ”These were meant for my older brother, but I put them on first.”

While they were chatting, the Lord finally arrived.

Most of them had only ever seen the Lord from a distance; they had never had the chance to speak with him up close.

This was especially true for the children. They had been hearing stories about the Lord for a year, and now, seeing him approach in a greatcoat, their small faces tensed up, their eyes filled with excitement.

Leech glanced over and was surprised to see quite a few people he recognized.

There was Pilite, the Minstrel’s son, and Little Antelope, the first Honorary Knight, among others.

There were even quite a few elderly people present.

He had intentionally placed no age restrictions. ’A Magic Farmer doesn’t rely on physical strength, but on Spiritual Power,’ he thought. ’It’s possible that the elderly might have stronger spirits.’

These elderly people had likely come with the same mentality as when they’d lined up for ”magic eggs,” hoping to get lucky, like a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse. As it happened, Leech was thinking the same thing.

This was only the first batch to be tested. Because Leech hadn’t restricted participation by status, both commoners and serfs had the opportunity to attend. The only ones who couldn’t make it were those with work to do; otherwise, the entire population of Porcupine Territory would have crammed into the castle.

Porcupine Castle could indeed hold all two thousand of them, but its daily operations would be completely paralyzed.

”Scholar Toma, if you would,” Leech said.

”Yes!”

Scholar Toma began to explain Spiritual Power—what it was, how to use it, how it would be tested, and so on.

As the nearly one hundred people listened to Scholar Toma’s lecture on Spiritual Power, their heads began to spin.

”...Alright, when I call your name, please come forward,” Scholar Toma announced.

Hearing this, the crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief. The lecture was finally over.

”Pilite.”

The Minstrel’s son stepped forward, his face tense.

His life in Porcupine Territory was quite comfortable. He had his own house, the Lord gave him a stipend each month, and Pilite’s job was to play the Lute and sing.

He took the blue sapphire and squeezed, his face turning red from the effort, but there was no reaction. Dejected, he had no choice but to step away.

”Next.”

Leech sat on his chair, watching quietly.

The prodigy he had imagined appearing in his territory never materialized.

One after another, they came forward, only to turn and leave with no results.

They couldn’t even squeeze out a single unit of Spiritual Power.

It was safe to say they had no talent for being a Caster.

Leech reflected inwardly, ’Did I guess wrong? Or is finding two Casters in the entire territory already a very high ratio?’

Out of more than two thousand people, there was one Arkke and one Pitz.

’A 1-in-1000 chance. I have nothing to compare it against, but in an era supposedly defined by a surging Magic Tide, this ratio feels off.’

After a full round of testing, every single one of them... had failed.

’In the end, I was overthinking it. How could Casters be as common as cabbages? A 1-in-1000 chance is probably already extremely high.’

’There’s also another possibility.’

’Perhaps they were too nervous, or maybe they just haven’t learned how to control their Spiritual Power. Even if they have a minuscule amount of it in their bodies, they wouldn’t know how to draw it out.’

Suddenly, Leech remembered what the Brass Dragon had said.

’Bloodline influence... bloodline... ’

’Bloodline influence can awaken talent in a high-magic environment, but it’s obviously not feasible to have the Horse-headed Eagle Rocket stay with this group of people.’

However, as he looked at the crowd, another idea sparked in Leech’s mind.

After the crowd had been sent away from the castle, Leech said, ”Scholar Toma, I think we might try a different approach. I want to open a night school.”

”A night school? Forgive me, my Lord, but I don’t understand.”

Leech looked at Scholar Toma’s baffled expression. Arkke and Pitz, who were assisting nearby, were equally perplexed.

He said, ”Ah, that’s right. Before I explain ’night school,’ I should probably first explain what a ’school’ is.”

”A school is a place for planned, organized education,” Leech explained, using a simple analogy. ”It’s like how you teach an apprentice one-on-one. In a school, however, you can lecture to dozens, or even hundreds, of people at the same time.”

”But that can’t guarantee that the knowledge is conveyed correctly,” Scholar Toma countered, questioning this method of education.

’A scholar’s research is often fraught with danger.’

’Betty is a prime example. Her Alchemy experiments cause frequent explosions. If a few hundred people were learning without dedicated supervision... HISS... the scene would be absolutely horrific!’

”We can start with the very basics,” Leech said. ”Perhaps I was too ambitious, hoping they could become Casters when they can’t even count from one to ten.”

”We’ll start with the most basic arcane knowledge. Once they can memorize and understand that, we can try testing them again,” he said. ”Moreover, I also plan to add general education classes to teach arithmetic and how to read and write the common tongue.”

”You mean to provide the most basic instruction? That is certainly feasible,” Scholar Toma said. ”But I fear it will not meet your expectations, especially with the classes being held at night. I assume a ’night school’ is a school that operates at night?”

”Correct,” Leech nodded, then added, ”If we held it during the day, even fewer people would come. Besides, sacrificing a portion of one’s rest time in exchange for knowledge that could change one’s destiny? There’s no better bargain in the world.”

Knowledge was a private commodity. Nobles might generously bestow food, money, or even their lives upon the people, but they would never bestow knowledge.

Anyone with a reasonably sharp mind understood just how important knowledge was.

Leech’s idea was simple: have Scholar Toma act as a ”Horse-headed Eagle” among the crowd. He would also send Arkke and Pitz to join them. Their presence might influence the people’s bloodlines and perhaps awaken the latent talent in some of them.

Of course, the most important part of his plan was that he had Chuina smash up some dragon ore gems and scattered the fragments throughout the makeshift classroom.

’If, by some chance, someone gets ’infected’ and becomes dragon-blooded, it’ll be a huge win.’

News of the night school spread quickly.

The classes were to be held inside the castle.

There simply wasn’t a larger available space in all of Porcupine Territory.

Unlike the crowd for the daytime Magic aptitude test, those who came to the night school were mostly young adults. The vast majority were manual laborers who had failed to become apprentices to a craftsman.

They saw this as their chance to change their fate. Even if they couldn’t become a Magic Apprentice, learning arithmetic might give them a future opportunity to work in the town hall.

After them came the teenagers, and then the most energetic of the children.

There were more women than men, which Leech suspected was due to the role models of Arkke and Pitz, leading people to believe that women had a better chance of becoming Casters.

Everyone knew that becoming a Magic Apprentice was a path to instant success, which was why even the elderly had wanted to try their luck. It was free, after all—nothing to lose by showing up.

But now that it required an investment of time and effort to learn, that group of people turned away without a second thought.

In fact, cultivating Casters was no longer his primary objective. Leech had changed his thinking, now viewing the school as a way to cultivate talent in general. ’If they can’t learn the arcane arts, they can at least learn arithmetic, right?’ he mused. ’It doesn’t matter what kind of talent they have. As long as they can speed up the territory’s development, they’re the right talent for the job.’