Casual Heroing

The Welcome Ceremony for New Students, Nine Towers Academy

College has a particular cool factor. At least when you are in the right social circles. The Nine Towers Academy looks a lot like college to me. Hot chicks, check. Nerds, check. Power-hungry professors and [Archmages], check. It’s pretty much the same game of politics while most students remain oblivious and try to enjoy their stay as much as possible.

Oh, I almost forgot. Not just hot chicks. Hot dudes, too, if that’s how you swing.

But the broader point here, fellas, is that I never went to college back on Earth. I never saw a real reason why I should go. Not like I was lazy, I couldn’t get in, or something like that. I didn’t go because I couldn’t be bothered. Why should I waste years of my life ‘studying’ instead of really learning the profession? That’s why I like baking. You still go to school, sure. But you mostly learn on the job. It’s pretty much like medicine, but without them lying to you about your education and asking 80 grand each year.

But what if you have the possibility of joining a Hogwarts-like institution at your fingertips? Wouldn’t you give it a go? Come on. Every reader my age has read H.P. We all dream of getting the little envelope brought by the owl service, don’t we? We want to hear that we are not muggles and that we can, in fact, do badass magic. It’s in our nature. There’s nothing wrong with accepting it.

So, let’s return to the welcome ceremony I’m attending under my Elf disguise. Yep, I asked Valarith for a big-ass disguising enchantment – also, we doctored some documents, paid for my attendance, and registered myself as a student. Not even an [Archmage] would recognize my disguise, by the way. Not even a Dragon. Maybe a very high-leveled Hydra, Lord Juler said – apparently, those creatures have very powerful eyes.

The speeches will be held in about an hour. Right now, food is being served for the new students, and the representatives of various factions are going around, trying to recruit your ass. I mean, they try if you look worthy of it or have a known background. My identity is Gioeius Lucianus, son of a [Merchant] living in Carilia – that’s the huge continent full of different species, apparently.

They have those tapestries draped over the walls. And I’m not going to lie, while some look badass, others look utterly ridiculous. There’s a flying a mouth skewered on a sword. I have no idea what that’s supposed to be.

“The Mouse Lancers. They are—whimsical. Don’t make fun of them, however. They love being underestimated – that’s why they are the one society that usually wins the school games. I’m not clear on the details, but they are one of the ancient societies with the most wins in their name. They are secretive and usually don’t show themselves around much.”

“Lancers? But that’s a sword,” I reply to the Elf who just accosted me.

“Again, whimsical.”

He smiles at me, probably waiting for an introduction of some kind.

“Yo, my name is—”

“Hey, little bird, did you break your wings?”

A voice suddenly thunders over everyone else, and I turn, feeling a soft aura washing over a few feet from me. All the societies standing at their stands are just looking while a tall Elf ridicules a guy on the ground – a guy-Elf. I’ve seen very few Humans so far.

I bring a hand to the hat on my head – a little tic I’ve developed recently. It helps me think. I mean, it could actually be an enchantment for all I know. Even Lord Juler says he’s not sure about it.

Also, who calls a person ‘little bird,’ huh? That sounds very still-in-the-closet-gay. Like, I’m-in-the-mafia-but-I-can’t-tell-others-I’m-gay-so-I-bully-others-for-being-effeminate kind of gay.

“What do you want?” a strained voice comes from the guy on the ground. But it’s not just strained. It almost sounds like he has a speech impairment.

The taller guy snorts and nods to himself.

“You bumped into me. Do you care to resolve the issue with a duel?”

I take a better look at the tall Elf.

[Advanced Mana Sense]

The guy is not strong. At all. Not even by students’ standards. His Mana is weak. I can’t even compare it to anything from the top of my head. It’s simply pathetic.

I deactivate my skill, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

The taller guy aggressively hoists up the other Elf before letting him go.

Well, how nice of him—

And down goes the shorter Elf – immediately.

That’s when I notice that the shorter Elf has two very weirdly shaped legs. They are, like, bent inwards or something.

Oh, shoot.

That’s cerebral palsy, isn’t it? The shape of the leg, the speech impairment? What the hell? How come such a disease exists in goddamn fantasy land? And why has no one cured it? I don’t know much about the thing to discuss it properly, but… isn’t there some weird magic that could do the trick?

I understand what’s going on now. The taller guy is a loser. Like, a big-time loser. Not just loser-loser. Not the ‘oh, I speed-run Mario every Thursday while downing a hobbit-weight-equivalent of tacos instead of finding a job’ kind of loser. Nope, this guy is trying to become a bully by bullying the most bulliable person in school. Hell, American school hierarchies all over, dude. And what kind of messed-up person makes fun of a disabled guy? Even if the guy is an Elf, he deserves some basic Elven decency. Or Human decency. Or whatever expression they use in a world of not only Humans.

Why do people have to be such assholes every single time, in every single goddamn world? What the hell is wrong with this idiot? What kind of screwed-up brain did his mother give him?

I understand that some bullying can happen – I even condone part of it. You want to bully a twenty-year-old who watches unicorn cartoons? Hell, be my guest. That’s between the guy who watches weird stuff and the bully. Let them figure it out; that’s two low-IQ people, and it’s their business, not mine.

But a guy bullying a person with goddamn cerebral palsy?

Not on my watch.

I’m about to blow my cover when the taller guy moves to hoist up the guy again, but a big… thing? What’s that? Something I have never seen before inserts itself between the two. That thing is taller than the tall Elf. We’re talking something like seven feet and some inches tall.

“Leave the guy alone,” a feminine voice comes out.

“What the hell are you?” the Elf suddenly recoils, and I can feel him starting to cast a spell sneakily—a very pathetic spell, but a spell, nonetheless.

“That’s an Ahali!” someone shouts.

“A bastard one!” another person adds.

“Goddamn freak,” the bully spits out while backing away.

And in a moment, the gentle lady, yanked out of whatever anonymity she was going for, is outed. But she just stands tall. And unlike the idiot, she reeks of magic.

Yeah, I activated [Advanced Mana Sense] again. Just for a second. I wanted to see what the hell this Ahali was. And wait, aren’t the Ahalis the—what are they again? Are they the Vanedenis’ enemies? Dude. I tell you what; I blame the radiation for my memory loss. Yep, that must be it for sure.

She’s not just taller than me, but her whole body, where not covered by clothes, is covered in fur. Her face has animalistic traits, but it’s clearly humanoid. What adds even more to her height is the giant pair of bunny ears sprouting from the top of her head.

Meanwhile, the idiot is almost done casting a [Fireball] without the two misfits noticing anything. Someone is trying to get their—what is it called?

Oh, come on.

What is it? Baptism of blood?

I sigh while walking toward the scene after an apologetic smile to my previous query.

“Be right back,” I tell the man I was talking to.

Let’s see.

The guy is moving his left-hand fingers to try and ground the spell while not chanting. I guess he needs a lot of concentration and his hand to direct the spell, right? Huh. Well. Whatever. Better safe than sorry.

Before the idiot can notice, I simply knee the back of his knee.

Down he goes.

“Is it a baptism of blood?” I frown.

What’s that thing when you kill someone to show the cartel or whatever criminal organization that you are the real deal, that you can be trusted?

“Who the hell—”

I materialize a [Fireball] in my palm without even blinking. Then, I slowly crouch as the bully backpedals, and the whole crowd around us begins to push back.

“Wassup? You think you are hot stuff?”

That was a bad joke.

God.

Spending all that time in the tower has fried my brain. This was a dad joke. Jesus. The second in two days.

“What—”

“You bother that guy again, and I’ll shove this up your bum-bum. Are we clear?”

“Who—”

I put the [Fireball] closer to his face, and he starts visibly sweating. I can see the fear in his eyes reflecting the fiery flames in my hand.

“This. Bum-bum. Are we clear?” I tell him with a creepy Elven smile.

“Clear! Clear!” he squirms and starts running away as soon as I stand up.

“Pussy.”

Now, everyone is giving me a wide berth, but only the weird Ahali and the disabled kid look at me with respect.

“Yo, kid. Where are your crutches?” I ask him, looking around the crowd and individuating one.

“I don’t know where the second—”

Found it.

I raise them in the air with magic and bring them to me. It’s not proper [Telekinesis] since I don’t have the spell yet.

“Gioeius Lucianus is the name,” I extend my hand to the guy on the ground and help him up. “But I’d rather have you call me Gioei, good?”

“Good.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Anneus.”

Anneus gets up and starts fiddling with something before getting his hands on the crutches. Suddenly, I notice that this guy has two mismatched bags of holding on him.

“Did you just—” I widen my eyes and laugh.

He calmly looks around and nods with a criminal, toothy smile.

Wow, a cool, disabled [Thief].

Nice.

I like the guy.

“And this beautiful lady is?” I say, extending a hand to her as well.

“Alba,” she replies with a bashful look.

Now, how can a look be bashful when you are not just taller than the person speaking with you but also possibly three times as physically fit? She’s wearing a shirt that barely covers her tummy, and I swear I can see some rock-hard abs there. With some fur around, but who am I to be picky?

“Yo, Alba, nice to meet you too,” I say while grabbing her soft paw—hand. She has hands, not paws. Slightly disappointing.

“Well, what do you two say we visit some of those stands? I’m really curious about the mouse thing and maybe some other societies. Houses. Whatever they are called…”

“You want to join the Mouse Lancers?” Anneus raises an eyebrow. “Good luck with that.”

“Oh, Anneus, Jo-Gioei Lucianus needs no luck.”

I keep smiling and standing in place.

“So, are we going or not?” he looks at me like I’m an idiot.

Right, there are no cutscenes in real life, sadly.

“Yeah. Yes. Let’s go.”