My Parasite Skill System

Thus do many skills lead to victory.

When I had no skills–I died and died.

When I obtained my skills–I lived and killed.

If I started up as an adventurer, it wasn't for no reason at all.

I wanted to become stronger. Stronger hence higher and safer on the food chain.

And right now, I'm supposed to have started as an adventurer already. I'm not learning any new skills, though. And even if I were, actually, this wouldn't certainly be my 'way' of doing it.

What am I doing here, then?

This is upsetting me.

You understand the comedy, now.

This is a school. A school of magic. Where the apprentice can learn about any little matter of life. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating. But still. There is so much stuff I'm not liking here.

I wanted to fight and become stronger while having fun. Here, we do not only fight, as the master said.

The apprentice also learns to … I don't even know, to be honest. Just many things. Too many things. Or maybe they don't get straight enough to the point. Magic can and does influence plenty of fields and areas of everyday life and business.

The matter of fact is: I don't even know what we're doing here, precisely. And that's to illustrate how much dumb and uninteresting all that sounds to me.

I should be going out, right?

I should. And yet, I was still sitting there, deep in my seat.

My chair was comfortable, at least. So that was that.

And chairs like mine, in this rather little amphitheater; there are plenty.

Around a good hundred or so, I would say. That makes up for a lot of disciples and apprentices.

Got me wondering how much of the population the magic-users amounted to. I mean, I hadn't thought about such details for now–but couldn't just anyone be using mana like me?

It seemed that wasn't the case.

And according to the numbers they'd given us, magic-users–be it of any classes and professions; swordsman, knight, bowman, thief, magician, healer–only were estimated about fifteen percent of the population.

Teach said it was a lot. A very big lot, actually. But to me, it wasn't all that impressive at all. I thought magical energy was for just anyone–but anyhow: magic-users weren't the majority, it seemed.

And every one of them wasn't necessarily offered an education, too, by the way.

Education that I would've dismissed if the choice had been given to me, to be honest.

That was that.

All of them being seated just like me. Very deep in their seats. Partly because there's only that to do, here. And partly because that's what they want to be doing.

And all six wide rows of seats and disciples, each standing higher than the other, were arching around the master, down there behind his desk as he gave off of his wisdom, seriously performing his lecture.

This place was big enough.

Coming with this roomy structure, the roof also was standing high enough. It was strengthened by lofty pillars here and there, in between the sitting disciples.

Looking at the ceiling, I didn't count for how many times did I go about scanning this place over and over again, by now.

Well. And I was doing it again.

The teach still was giving his lecture.

And it was very much so boring.

I could only do that, right?

It's very boring. I need to end this. But how exactly?

Well, at least I'm spending time with Leafana.

She's seated right next to me.

The weak, pale, and beautiful–no, full of grace!–Leafana was here, with me, getting herself an education, hm. She isn't so sickly, now.

That was a good thing to see. She wasn't sick at all. She was quite the contrary, to say the least.

Looking at her go narrowing her eyes at the master down there, concentrating and nodding to herself each new bit of information she received, it was quite a lot of times I'd seen that, actually.

Every day, every hour. Aside from the hours of the night. I could see that picture of her.

Her thin fingers and transparent nails were pressing on the tip of her quill when she wrote on her sheet. Her pale arms moving around, sometimes digging themselves firmly in the long desk we shared, sometimes dancing around accompanying her organizing hands, sometimes places as pillars supporting her tiny head.

She studied, unlike me. And so, I could see she was in it for real. That really was what she'd wanted.

Being there, at school, learning from the masters she so much respected and admired, assimilating new knowledge she didn't so far know, writing, scribbling, and jotting down about both her and the teach's thoughts.

Well, she had told me that herself. Countless times. Be it before, back in the forest, when we truly met and I decided to save her from her ill … or even after she'd been so sick because of me during the two weeks we spent waiting for this school to open itself for us … she'd told me about how epic all that was (only to her, quite unfortunately) and how eager she was to study there.

She'd only wanted that for all her life. Ever since a wee lass, she wished to become a learned lady in the sciences of magic.

But her situation being what it was–both an elven king's daughter and an elven king's daughter whose father and kingdom had been wasted and finished–she couldn't really go about realizing her wish.

Now though, thanks to me and Uncle (she saw disrespect in me calling Uncle Old Sipping) she could go about that.

She was a cute girl.

With her right hand laying down her quill next to her ink on her share of the desk, before she went and put her soft strands of hair hindering her sight away behind her tiny, cute, and pointy ears–she turned to me:

"… What are you staring at me like this for, Emerald?" she threw at me, whispering. "… With that weird, funny name of yours."

"It is not weird. And if anything, you're the weird one, Elven Princess," and I whispered, too.

Whispering was the way. You can't afford to upset the grandmaster of magic.

"But no. We said you should stop calling me that. It's past me, so I don't like it."

"Leafana, then."

"Such is my name, Emerald," she said, "so, what it is that I can do for you, now? Still falling behind with the lecture, mm?"

"… nope. I'm just staring."

And Leafana blushed a little.

It was true that I was just staring. When I say she was cute–she really was. So she would be a more pleasant sight to behold than the old man of this class.

I just stared, and I'd continue to do so … maybe.

"You … hm!"

And Leafana turned back to her papers, quill, and ink.

Hopefully, I wouldn't disturb her. I could see her pink cheeks still a bit adorned by their bright color when I looked her way. I was sure she wasn't sick, though. What was it with her?

Hmm … never mind that.

It isn't important.

Where was I again, in my thoughts?

This comedy, this comedy, this comedy. I wanna go out, I wanna go out, I wanna go out.

What brought me here?

That human princess fraud. She said it herself! She said I'd be having fun … or maybe she didn't say it. But still.

And now, what?

…

And no. She isn't a fraud. She's done nothing wrong. This was part of the deal she'd offered me, I think.

That's what Old Sipping says, at least.

So she isn't a fraud. But like I often say: but still.

I told her and I told her. Complaining and complaining. Over and over again. This isn't what I want to do. Nobody wants me to do that. This isn't fun. This is the opposite of fun. This is boring.

.... And what was her only reply, hm, can you guess??