Mages are respected across the continent not only for their mastery of magic, but above all for their vast knowledge. They are the most learned of people, living embodiments of wisdom.
Rosha racked his brains to win over the legendary mage. His goal was simple—he needed to build an academy, a place to teach children knowledge and skills. His original plan was to hunt magical beasts, sell their hides, bones, or blood for money, and then hire teachers from Weili or Presidian. But with such a figure appearing right at his doorstep, all that trouble was unnecessary. Rosha felt fate had smiled upon him. With a tongue sharp enough to move mountains, he finally got what he wanted.
He didn't know how long the old man would stay, but it gave him time—a buffer to refine his plans. That whole night, Rosha stayed up sketching designs for his academy: classrooms, dining hall, gymnasium, teachers' quarters, and training grounds. Building it would take time and money, but for now he needed only the vision—something to impress Ryze. In the meantime, his own yard would serve as the classroom.
"Why do you want to train mages? Are you trying to build your own faction?" Riven had stood by his window for a long time, realizing after seeing the blueprints that Rosha meant to have Ryze teach the children.
"To change ingrained thinking, you have to start with the young. I only want to give them knowledge. As for becoming mages—that's up to them," Rosha looked up at her. "These are sparks. One day they'll become a blaze that will burn away ignorance and backwardness."
Riven saw the anger in his eyes as he spoke, and though she didn't fully understand why he felt so strongly, some instinct told her he would succeed.
Rosha thought he had tricked Ryze the way real estate men sold empty lots with drawings of grand houses. But the old man hadn't even looked at the designs. He simply asked Rosha's true purpose, and once it was clear, agreed without hesitation.
"Old man, it's knowledge they need. If you want to teach magic, do it. If not, don't." Rosha made sure he understood.
"I understand, I understand. Go gather your students," Ryze waved impatiently, adding, "And you'll listen to my lessons too."
"Thank you, teacher!" Rosha bowed with a grin.
The village had twenty-seven children who followed Rosha. Three were seven years old, the rest were four or five. When he announced that Archmage Ryze would be teaching them, the adults couldn't believe it. After confirming multiple times that Rosha wasn't joking, they eagerly sent their children and had them bow in formal apprenticeship to the mage.
They even offered to pay whatever tuition was required.
"No need," Rosha declared, standing on a stool. "But since space at my house is limited, I'll need everyone to pitch in later to build an academy. Not now—only after our ecological farms are running well."
"No problem, this is something we should do!" shouted a middle-aged man, followed by a chorus of voices echoing, "No problem!"
Coughing, old Kunta was helped into the yard. After bowing to Ryze, he said, "Weili doesn't even have an academy. For our village to have one is an honor. Everyone must do their part!"
"Yes!" the adults answered in unison.
"Besides the academy, what else do you need? Just ask. Even if we have to sell our pots and pans, we'll provide it," Kunta said, leaning on his cane.
"For now, what's most important is watching over our ecological farming," Rosha replied. "When our lives grow prosperous, and the children learn their basics, then when they grow up, they can go study at Presidian."
Every parent longed for their child to achieve something. Presidian's Ionian Academy was the most prestigious school on the continent, but ordinary folk could never enter. Rosha's words gave them hope, and spirits lifted throughout the village.
Once the parents had left, Rosha lined the twenty-seven children up.
Looking at all those bright eyes, his heart swelled. "Classmates, I want to ask you some questions. First—why do you want to learn?"
Silence. Rosha waited patiently. At last, Marco spoke. "I want my mother to live better."
Once one spoke, the others followed: wanting to see the outside world, wanting to know why waterwheels lifted water uphill, and more.
"Good," Rosha said once they quieted. "None of you are here by force. So listen—your wishes will come true. You'll see other parts of the world. You'll know how high the mountains are, how deep the seas run. Why birds fly, why fish swim. You'll uncover the mysteries of this world."
With every word, the children clenched their little fists tighter, until they were cheering at the top of their lungs.
Thus, Xiliang Academy opened. Its staff: three teachers. Headmaster Ryze, Riven teaching swordsmanship and tactics, and Rosha teaching strange subjects of his own.
As for the name, Rosha toyed with many—Stat Village School, Village Academy, Stat Academy—all rejected. Finally, he remembered his homeland and tried "Xiliang." To his surprise, everyone liked it. So the name stuck.
To the students, the name carried deep meaning. To Ryze, it held the weight of runes. To Riven, it had a tragic, solemn feel. To Asa, it was easy to write. To Shava, anything her son chose was beautiful.
Soon, Xiliang Academy settled into routine. Each morning began with running laps around the village, followed by Riven's sword drills. After breakfast came Ryze's lectures on Runeterra's history and magic. His schedule was unpredictable—sometimes he'd lecture the whole morning without pause—but the children remained attentive, enchanted by some unseen force.
At noon they returned home for lunch and rest. Afternoons began with one hour of practical labor, usually farm work, which counted toward their assessments. Afterward came Riven's combat training, then dismissal.
Rosha's classes alternated with Ryze's. He taught mathematics, starting with the basics he remembered from elementary school, interwoven with curious stories—always slipping in subtle lessons meant to reshape their thinking.
Riven always listened. Even Ryze would sit aside, scratching equations in the dirt with sticks, trying Rosha's problems. Though simple, Rosha's methods made the calculations faster and more efficient. When he introduced the children to Arabic numerals and explained their use, Ryze's eyes widened. This simplified system made many principles easier.
After class, the old man called Rosha aside.
"Where did you learn those numbers?" Ryze didn't believe Rosha had invented them.
"Thought of them with sticks," Rosha said nervously, then outlined the history of numbers.
When he finished, Ryze tossed the sticks to the ground, stormed off in a huff to meditate, and even snatched Lulu away on his way out.
"What's gotten into him?" Shava whispered, watching the old man leave.
"Maybe he thinks I'm a bigger genius than he is, and it pissed him off," Rosha chuckled.
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