Watching Flamelle walk beside her, or perhaps skip would be more accurate with how she seems to be bouncing with childish joy, Kierra finds herself glad that she went along with that whole diversion.
Sure, it sucked for her personally, but she's an adult, it's not that bit of a deal. Worth it, considering the near infectious nature of Flamelle's happiness.
The girl didn't win, naturally, but that wasn't the point in the first place. She got to have some fun, and it'd have been cruel to deny her of that. It is perhaps the most important lesson that Kierra wishes to impart on her disciple.
The purpose of being a Mage is to enjoy yourself freely.
Everything else comes second.
Still, Kierra doesn't wish to dally any longer. Certainly not when she saw some effigies of the seven Cataclysms being ferried around. She might end up doing something unwise if she were to see some among their number.
Most of the Cataclysms she loved, especially Vielduine. They were incredibly fun to fight against. But some of them? Some of them were so damn annoying that she and her friends would often end up either in a shouting match or crying after failing over and over.
Those are not pretty memories.
She she simply took the glowing Flamelle and made haste for the train, or rail, whatever. That it is so late does not stop the train, and really it isn't too late. Granted, she is an addicted gamer, so her idea of a healthy sleep schedule is likely not accurate, but it isn't even midnight yet.
The train station is naturally not all that busy, both because of the time and likely because everyone is out enjoying the festivities. So it isn't at all difficult to find the one she presumes to be the ticket master and begin their approach.
The man notices them easily enough and straightens from the slouch he had settled into, daydreaming. The classic customer service smile alights his face, and his voice snaps Flamelle out of her own little world that she had been in.
"Hello there, would you like to purchase a ticket?"
The urge to say 'General Kenobi' was strong, but her throat caught and she missed the moment. Her grandfather used to say that every single time anyone said hello there to him. It was apparently from some old movie, but she was always too busy in Free World Online to watch movies.
Okay, well, technically that's a lie. She did watch plenty of movies and stuff, it's just that she did all of that inside of the game with her friends, or just with online watch parties. Basically, if she wasn't playing the game, it was rare and only when she was either hanging out with her friends elsewhere online, sleeping, making a video on the game to buy in-game items, or doing the necessities.
"Yes."
The ticket guy stares at her kind of awkwardly at her bland response. An awkwardness that grows in the few seconds of silence that follows before the man speaks up again.
"Which ticket type would you like to purchase?"
Ah, it's one of those things. These trains must really just be an accepted part of life now, huh? Meaning that she did the equivalent of going into a fast-food place and saying 'yes' when they asked what she wanted to eat.
She can't see a menu here though.
"What are the options?"
He looks at her strangely, as if everyone should know what kind of tickets are available.
Kierra honestly finds it kind of fascinating. One can tell so much about a nation's culture and more just from simple interactions like this. The way he's acting implies that the specific ticket types available have been so for at least the majority of his life, else he wouldn't find her lack of knowledge so odd.
It also tells her that either the Kingdom of Laptalia doesn't get much international tourism from long-lived Races like the Elves she is disguised as, or that even Elves and Demons and Dwarves and everyone in-between are all also completely used to the rails. Kierra finds the latter option unlikely though.
Which means there isn't a lot of international movement these days. At least, not from Elves and the like. She lacks the information to make more informed guesses though, and this is all speculation, but it's still interesting to think about.
"Well, there are a number available," the clerk answers. "Economy class is available from only one Silver, and now would be a good deal, as the rail is mostly empty outbound with the festival going on, so plenty of legroom. Business is available from three silver, affording more spacious seating. First class is available from one Gold and finally the Luxury Suite is available for two Platinum."
She kind of got the gist when he started with Economy class. She hadn't expected it to just be the normal system she's used to. Though, he only mentioned the Luxury Suite after giving her robe a surreptitious once over. Apparently he deemed her wealthy looking enough to bother saying anything.
Kierra nods her head once. "Two tickets for Luxury then."
Flamelle lets out a little gasp beside her that is ignored, and even the clerk's eyes widen slightly in surprise before he moves on, his smile a lot more genuine than a moment ago.
"Of course! I will get that ready for you now then!"
Something tells her that he gets paid on commission.
As he moves behind his little counter to start doing something or other, Kierra feels Flamelle tug on her robe lightly and turns to see the girl staring at her with wide eyes.
"Mistress Kette," she whispers. "Is it worth it to spend two Platinum on tickets? I've never even seen a Platinum before."
Is her student poor?
Wait, is a Platinum a lot?
"It's just four Platinum."
"You could buy a house with that!" Flamelle rapidly whisper-shouts back, making Kierra raise a brow.
"A good house?"
Flamelle freezes a little awkwardly. "Uh, well, no? But still! It's too much for a rail ticket!"
Maybe. If it's enough to buy a house, even a bad one, that would definitely constitute as overpriced or a train ride. That doesn't really matter though, because Kierra had millions of Platinum last she checked. Unless her account has been emptied of course, but she is sure the royalty of the world would be willing to give her back what is hers if she were to simply ask nicely.
Instead of saying any of that, Kierra simply pats the girl on the head and ruffles her hair a little.
"I told you, I would treat you well. Money and expenses are no longer things you need to waste time thinking about."
The clerk comes back then with two tickets and she hands over four Platinum coins in exchange for them. Kierra has long become used to having too much money to know what to do with and just buying the most expensive options available.
Free World Online was a pretty realistic game in most aspects. Which means that you can't exactly find a vendor selling a 'God-Killing Sword of Hellfire +100' for some Gold. No, equipment at her level is no different from strategic weaponry. Her main equipment probably has a higher relative value than a nuclear bomb.
Which means that for high level Players like her, money became mostly useless, as it was no longer a vector to getting better equipment. So they'd reach a point where their money would flow like water, without a single care for how much they are spending.
Well, Celestium is valuable enough that it could purchase good equipment, but that's Celestium, it's an exception.
Her friends used to all make a game out of stealing Celestium from one another, usually to excessive retaliation.
Fly got the worst of the retaliation, what with him being the party Rogue. They all knew he wasn't responsible, being too cowardly to steal from one of the five people who could do something about it.
But it was just really funny to blame Fly every time anything went missing and beat him up for it.
Kierra finds her mood fluctuating at the memories before that Chisato's words come back to her and her emotions settle. Sure, their loss hurts, but that hurt cannot compare to the happiness that they bring her.
Kierra shakes those heavy thoughts away as they enter the Luxury Suite, the door only opening after eating their tickets.
Stepping into the carriage—cart? She can never remember the terminology—Kierra finds the room to be about what she would have expected.
Instead of rows of seating, there are two spacious lounge areas, one on each side. The far side has twin sofas facing one another, backs against the wall with a table in the centre. Clearly the social side, as the other end has two, more private booths instead, while the centre of the room is empty save for a table buffet on either side.
Naturally, everything looks expensive. From silks to gold lining and crystal glasses. It's certainly different to experience this kind of excessive wealth in person, but it's not that much of a leap from the immersion of the game, so she isn't all that impressed. Not like Flamelle, who steps in with a wide-eyed expression on her face.
There are some somewhat impressive Enchantments woven into the carriage, enough that she doubts anything below level 1,000 would be able to break in before the Spells run out of juice. that said, anything over 1,000 could break in with a bit of time and effort, so Kierra is more interested in the occupants of the suite.
At the far end, in the social lounge, is a gaggle of hoity-toity types. Nobles. She means Nobles. Well, she's assuming they are Nobles anyway, just from the gauche clothes and accessories.
There are a couple of brats with them too, but for the most part, they all seem crowded around one fat dude, so he's probably the highest ranking Noble here, making the rest his hangers-on.
Oddly, Kierra actually feels more comfortable in the presence of these sycophants than she did around that Prince Charming wannabe at the Guild. At least these ones are conforming to her mental stereotyping. Unlike that Aryan ideal trying to convince her that he's not a living cancer.
Other than them, there is also a guy to her left in the more private booths that just seems totally out of it. He's fully collapsed into his booth, head lolled back, arms splayed wide and mouth half open as he quietly snores away.
While his clothes are also high quality, they are different from the Nobles in that they are leather armour instead of fancy silks. From looking at him, she believes he is a Ranger, and so she looks around briefly, but sadly does not spot any of his pets.
Most of the Rangers she's met have tended to Tame at least one cute beast to keep as a pet, and they rarely travel without them by their side. It's just a shame this guy isn't the same. Kierra likes cute monsters.
She should have got an Owlbear when she had the chance.
Eh, whatever.
The Nobles' attention falls on them at their entrance, but Kierra ignores them and guides Flamelle to the empty booth.
After taking a moment to get settled in opposite sides of the one booth, Kierra's attention returns to her student.
It's pretty late by now, but not too late, and the train—rail, whatever—will take a good few hours before reaching the capital. Though, they might have to take a diversion somewhere along the way as well.
So now wouldn't really make a great time to start a proper lesson, since Flamelle will be needing to get some shut-eye in about two hours, maybe less. Kierra obviously isn't familiar with the girl's sleeping patterns yet.
Better to start a lesson in the morning. That way, she can focus on a specific and narrow subject for the entire day. Kierra feels like that's the best way to go about this, considering just how many subjects she plans to teach Flamelle.
The girl's lessons will start in proper only once Kierra has visited her home and got all her chores sorted, like talking to the King, or someone important enough about FWO's sequel. Though obviously she won't phrase it like that. Only after that will she truly be free of obligation and ready to devote all her time to teaching Flamelle. That's part of why she was so willing to let the girl have some fun today, as she is going to be worked hard later.
It's going to be such a pain~. Teachers really do deserve those raises they never get. The ones that actually try anyway.
So instead of starting a lesson, Kierra has a better idea. After all, Flamelle is still owed a gift.
Her eyes turn to her system interface, specifically her Skill list, and she recalls the feeling of pulling out her Grimoire. Obviously, pulling the whole thing out would be a bit much, but even if she has only done so once, she is The Mage, she can figure out alternatives.
Under Flamelle's watchful eye, Kierra holds a hand out to the system and intones a simple phrase.
"[Restricted Grimoire: 6th]."
In a puff of smoke, a massive book appears and thunks against the table between them.
It's obviously not as large as her full [Grimoire], but even limited to Spells up to the 6th Tier, it still has over a thousand pages. There are far more weak Spells than there are strong ones after all.
If she were to estimate it, less than one percent of her Spells are 20th Tier or higher. Probably ten percent or so are over Tier 15.
"I said I would give you a gift if you beat me in the contest," Kierra speaks up into Flamelle's open-mouthed stare. "This contains every Spell I know up to the 6th Tier. Pick one you like, and I will teach it to you."
It takes Flamelle a moment to get over her apparent shock before she seems to comprehend Kierra's words and visibly flinches.
"W-what!? Y-you're giving me your Grimoire!?"
"Is that so shocking?"
"Yes!" Flamelle pauses, realising her overreaction and shyly pushes herself back into her seat and starts over, at a more reasonable tone this time. "Yes. Mistress Kette, a Grimoire is the deepest essence of a Mage. Allowing someone else to hold your Grimoire is a.. uhm... An intimate gesture. The kind of thing only done between family or lovers."
Kierra absorbs that knowledge and simply shrugs it away. "Culture changes all the time. You are both my student, thus making it counterintuitive to restrict my knowledge from you, and weak, thus making it impossible for you to steal anything from me. Take it, and pick a Spell. Also, give me your Grimoire so that I can get a more in-depth assessment of your abilities."
Flamelle is slow in her response, but she does eventually comply. Summoning her own Grimoire and pushing it across the table before pulling Kierra's over, acting almost reverent as she takes hold of it.
Kierra would have snorted with amusement if her body were any more emotive. She thinks it's silly to treat a book so adoringly, even if it is a Grimoire. Actually, now that she thinks about it like that, Kierra would probably be much the same if someone offered her a Grimoire of over a thousand Spells from Tier 20 to 26.
Never mind then.
Shaking her head lightly, Kierra flips Flamelle's Grimoire open and immediately cringes.
This is almost painful to look at.
She feels a little bit mean thinking it, but her body is practically recoiling at the number of mistakes and inefficiencies written within. It's not really fair on Flamelle, considering the level difference between them is nearly two thousand, but still.
There's a long way to go, huh.
Satisfied that Flamelle will be sufficiently occupied until she becomes tired enough to go to sleep, Kierra sets out to the arduous task of reading through Flamelle's Grimoire. That much obviously doesn't take long, the girl doesn't know a lot of Spells, but it's what comes after that is such a pain.
Which is the categorisation of Flamelle's knowledge, her strengths and weaknesses. Where she is talented and where she struggles, which runes she mistakes the most and a dozen other things. All being considered together so that Kierra can optimise her future lessons to be maximally effective.
It actually is a little bit fun. Plus, thinking about how to teach Flamelle is surprisingly helpful for digesting all of the knowledge and experience that this body has. Recontextualising things that are just instinct into proper understanding.
Kierra has a genuine smile at the thought that teaching Flamelle might actually make her a better Mage as well. If only marginally. But then, even a tiny percentage improvement is a significant difference at her level. Kierra's next level up will probably give more Stats than Flamelle currently has in total.
Like that, time passes in a comfortable silence as they both study their respective books. Flamelle flipping through pages with increasing awe, gluttonously devouring all the knowledge she can while Kierra simply spends her time picking out her student's strengths and flaws.
The only disturbance comes a little over an hour later when the carriage jostles slightly, signalling the beginning of their journey. The movement pulls them both from their focus, and Kierra also idly notices the man opposite them wake up too, though she doesn't pay him much mind.
Flamelle does, tracking the movement as he pushes himself to his feet and ambles over to the buffet section in the middle of the room. Kierra is then treated to the sight of Flamelle surreptitiously sending longing looks at the spread of food before looking to her, obviously withholding a question and instead returning her attention to Kierra's Grimoire.
She waits for the girl to ask about food, as it has been a while since she's ate now that Kierra thinks about it. She honestly forgot about food, as her body is technically Undead and thus has no need for such things as hunger.
However, Kierra is disappointed when Flamelle simply keeps her eyes on her Grimoire and says nothing. That has Kierra letting out a sigh, an action that redraws Flamelle's eyes.
"Tsk, be more assertive." Kierra's complaint only draws a look of confusion from her student, and so she sighs again, realising that she is going to have to make this a lesson. Then again, that is literally what she signed up for here.
"Let me give you a lesson on power dynamics," Kierra begins, making Flamelle put the Grimoire down and give her her full attention as she begins what should be a quick lesson. "When people hear 'power dynamic' they tend to imagine the extreme end of the spectrum, as is generally a theme with all things. People think of things like the power a King has over their subjects, and thus think of it as something they have no need to think about. So consider this your fifth lesson. You must always be conscious of the power dynamics around you."
Placing Flamelle's Grimoire down and to the side, Kierra folds her hands as she continues her lesson, meeting Flamelle's eyes as she does to make sure they are paying attention.
"Every interaction between two sapient individuals alters the power dynamic between them. In most cases, the alteration is simply so insignificant as to basically not exist. You can imagine it as a scale of 'favour'. If two parties are making some manner of commercial deal, then even just a polite greeting will result a minor improvement in the deal, whilst a rude greeting will do the opposite."
Flamelle clearly doesn't see what she's getting at, but the girl is a good student and continues listening attentively, waiting for the lecture to finish.
"Think about it like this. If a stranger walked up to you in the street and asked you to do their chores for them, wash their clothes, fetch their shopping. I would hope that you would turn them away. Of course, there are nuances. Such as if the person seems pathetically desperate for the help, this would increase the chances you would accept because you are a good person."
Kierra doesn't know if she's explaining this right, but she hasn't got any better ideas, so she just bullies forward.
"It is similar to the concept of debt. Only that this involves much more nebulous concepts. If a stranger asks for a favour that would take your time and effort, then that is a 'cost' that you are weighing. Against that 'cost' would be the 'benefit'. This could be monetary compensation, such as with a job, or in this case, if the one making the request seems truly desperate, then the 'benefit' would be emotional. The feeling of having done a good deed bringing you enough happiness to consider it a 'benefit' that outweighs the 'cost' of time and effort spent."
"Even something simple like if that stranger were someone whom you had walked past on the street every day for a few years, wherein they simply smiled and waved but nothing more. You would both still be strangers, knowing nothing of one another, yet every smile and every wave would build up an incredibly tiny, but incremental 'debt' until eventually you would be willing to consider doing them a small favour."
"In a more immediately relevant example. You want to learn Magic from me. This is your 'benefit' in our relationship. Because this is something that you value, the scale of 'favour' is deeply on my side. Thus, if I were to ask you to do my chores, or to perform useless, exhausting tasks, you would accept them. Yet, if I kept being demanding and rude, eventually those 'debts' would add up and you would have to reconsider the scale once more. To see if you feel that the 'cost' you are paying is still worth the 'benefit' you are receiving."
"It is because of this 'debt' that you would hesitate to trouble me or ask me of anything. This power dynamic, whether you were aware of it or not, is why you have been so hesitant to speak your mind in front of me. Because the scale is already so far in my favour, that I would have no reason to consider your words. This kind of dynamic exists within all people and every interaction, and once you understand it, you will find yourself far more confident making requests or demands to those in your proverbial 'debt'."
"Ultimately, this is all a part of political theory. Knowing what everyone around you wants and what they are willing and or capable of giving is a core part of politics and interpersonal relationships. As for how that is immediately relevant." Kierra leans forward slightly and pokes a finger in Flamelle's direction. "I want to teach you. It is something that I desire. Thus, you have power over me. You could act as bratty as you want, because my scale is tilted in your favour. The more you prove yourself an exemplary student, the more that scale will be in your favour. It is like an affection metre, wherein positive interactions build affection points which can then be spent on whatever you want. Understand?"
Flamelle stares for a moment before nodding her head, hesitantly at first before firming up. Then, taking the lesson to heart, Flamelle straightens up, looks Kierra in the eye and speaks.
"I'm going to get some food," she states, and Kierra smiles, simply dipping her head in acknowledgement.
Flamelle smiles back before hopping out of her seat and rushing up to the buffet table. Kierra shakes her head, feeling amused at the girl's blatant yearning for the high-class food available to her and returns her attention to the girl's Grimoire.
But of course, not a moment of peace is allowed when one travels with a protagonist type character, and her attention is soon pulled back to the girl when she notes another approaching her.
Kierra watches out of the corner of her eye, though with hawk-like attention, as one of the Noble's brood approaches the buffet table. With Flamelle's luck in mind, Kierra doesn't hold out much hope that the teenage Noble is simply getting himself some food with just coincidental timing.
With her Stats being what they are, it is no struggle for Kierra to eavesdrop on the pair, and it quickly becomes clear to her that the boy is trying to probe for information. Not that Flamelle understands that, but it's pretty obvious what's happening to Kierra.
She just has to consider the context. First, this is the Luxury Suite, incredibly overpriced and not the kind of place one would expect to see anyone of a lower social strata. Then there is their appearance. Kierra's own equipment is in the style of royalty from a bygone era, so she naturally projects enough recognisable wealth and status, even if she is not nearly as gaudy as these Nobles are with their gold.
Flamelle meanwhile is wearing the classic leather armour of a rookie adventurer, even having her little silver pin on her chest to denote her rank.
The most reasonable conclusion to come to from looking at them would be that Flamelle is some Noble scion out to play adventurer. It's hardly a rare thing to happen. In this case, Kierra would be her bodyguard or some such position. Perhaps if she was disguising herself as a Human instead of an Elf she would be assumed to be a family member.
And as she listens in on the conversation, Kierra inevitably hears what she knew she would; Flamelle missing the subtext completely and admitting to being a commoner.
The shift in tone from the Noble brat is almost as immediate as it is predictable, But Kierra only continues to observe. Interacting with a proper Noble within a controlled environment will be a good lesson for Flamelle, so she isn't planning on intervening.
Instead, she simply watches as the tone grows more aggressive, idly noting the Ranger in the booth across from her raise his brows in her direction. Clearly his Stats are also high enough to be impossible to miss the conversation, but she ignores his silent question about if she will do anything.
Then, as Flamelle tries to physically excuse herself, the boy grabs her. A hand on her wrist, halting her movement, and Kierra twitches.
Seeing the true face of the weak men that cling on to inherited power that the Nobility hide behind their facades is undoubtably a good lesson for her. A poor experience now could save her from a disastrous one in the future by simply instilling a little bit of caution.
At least that was the plan anyway, but when she sees Flamelle's face scrunch into a wince from the grip, Kierra is no longer planning. Instead, she simply acts.
A wave of invisible force rips out of her body and through the carriage, avoiding Flamelle entirely before picking the Noble brat up, hauling him off of his feet and throwing him against a mostly empty sofa. It's not like she's going to hurt the brat, she's not crazy.
Still, Kierra lets out a sigh after her actions, already knowing what the inevitable result will be. In preparation, another invisible force pulls at Flamelle. It drags her back into her seat with a surprised squawk, also bringing with it the plates she had been filling.
Just in time for the fattest and most pompous of the Nobles to launch himself to his feet, multiple chins jiggling with the movement. Even as he points a finger shaking with anger in her direction, Kierra can only wonder what kind of diet could even produce such a man. Truly, Nobility are impressive. No wonder they get the titles.
"You dare touch my son!"
Mostly, Kierra is finding this whole thing annoying, but she at least has the silver lining that Flamelle's deer-in-headlights expression is amusing to look at.
Kierra ignores the frothing Noble for now and turns her attention back to her student.
"Flamelle." The girl's attention snaps to her, though there is no doubt that she is still conscious of the angry Nobles. "Continuing your previous lesson, I feel I should mention the most obvious and prevalent power dynamic of them all. It is incredibly simple. People want to live, and so having the ability to deny them that gives you power over people. Whether that is through personal strength," Kierra gestures to herself, "Or through influence is of little difference." She finishes by gesturing to the approaching mob.
Well, mob is putting it too highly. It is only the fat Noble, his son and four hangers-on, three men one woman. The rest of the women chose to stay behind apparently, which isn't too surprising to Kierra for many reasons.
Though, she does note that one of the men seems to be an outlier to the others. Not least because he actually has some power to him, but his dress is also far more practical than gaudy. A bodyguard, she assumes.
"You!" Kierra blandly turns in her seat to face the fat Noble as he stands beside their booth, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. "How dare you assault my son!" She notices him bite something back once he notices her ears, but there is barely a hitch in his rant, "I don't care who you are in your land, Elf! Assaulting a Noble in this Kingdom is a crime, and I will not stand for it!"
Kierra knows that at least one of her friends would have made some comment on how he very clearly is standing because of this, but Kierra is above such things. Mostly though she just wants to make this into a proper lesson for Flamelle instead of just annoying the Noble even more.
And so, instead of responding to the obese man, Kierra simply turns back to her student.
"Flamelle," she begins, causing the Noble's face to puff red with rage, "Do you know what the correct course of action here is?"
It very quickly becomes clear that Flamelle is too cowed by the angry Noble to be responding any time soon, so Kierra answers her own question before said Noble can interrupt with some diatribe or other.
"This troglodyte believes that the scale of favour is weighted to his side due to his power as a Noble, leaving us in 'debt' for the cost of annoying him. The scales can either be evened out by paying back the 'debt' by apologising profusely, an act that will cost us shame and benefit him by feeding his already inflated ego. Or, a simpler option, is to simply negate the weight he is using to hold the scale down on his side. In simpler terms, he believes he has power over us because of his ability to deny us our lives, so we simply have to show that he does not hold such a privilege."
"In other words," Kierra continues, her voice dropping slightly as she turns to meet the Noble's eyes and push herself out of the booth. "The best way to deal with annoying Nobles, is through immediate and overwhelming violence."
Several things then happen at the same time. First, the Noble and his entourage collectively back up a step, their overconfidence immediately faltering in the face of manifested consequences.
The only exception being the guard, who steps forward and to the side, putting himself between Kierra and the fatty. This actually causes Kierra to freeze in her actions. Not because he is an obstacle in any way, but because the guard is smiling.
It's a familiar enough smile for her to recognise it. The smile of a man who knows that he is outclassed, but just wants to fight all the more because of it.
A battle junkie, Kierra notes in her mind, almost smiling back at him. As a Mage should be.
Then lastly, right as she meant to act, the previously silent Ranger jumps to his feet and interrupts everything with a very loud yell.
"Argh! I'm out of booze!!" The tension in the room immediately simmers away as all eyes turn incredulous attention upon the moping man, watching as he crumples back into his booth, leaning back until he is almost facing the ceiling.
It is as he is sitting like that that his attention turns to them, one eye simply moving their way without tilting his head away from the ceiling.
"Aya~, so many glares. Well, I'm sorry for interrupting, but as much as I'd enjoy the show, we do have a long ride ahead of us, so I guess I'll get involved."
The Noble appears visibly relieved by the Ranger's words, taking yet another step back such that he can face both Kierra and the Ranger at the same time. Kierra doesn't move to do anything, simply choosing to meet eyes with the Mage who still only moves enough to keep himself between her and the Noble.
"Jorick Davison," the Noble says to the Ranger, smiling with relief. "It is not often one gets to meet an Orichalcum level Adventurer such as yourself. I would be honoured to have your assistance in dealing with this brute," he glares the final word right into Kierra's skull. Not that she is really paying him any mind.
"Huh? What, no, I'm not fighting that thing."
'Thing?' Why am I a thing?
Predictably, the Noble doesn't take Jorick's answer well. "What?! What is the meaning of this, Davison!? Don't you know who I am!? I am Count Binyamin Cohenberg!
Kierra almost snorts at the hypocrisy of saying that less than two minutes after declaring so loudly how little he cared of Kierra's identity. Also, weren't the Cohenberg supposed to be Dukes now? Or would that just make this one from a branch family?
Instead of directly answering the angry Cohenberg, Jorick nods his head in the bodyguard's direction. "Hey, Battle Mage." As the guard turns enough to meet Jorick's eyes, Kierra parrots the title in her head, curious. Every Mage is capable of battle, so the title seems superfluous, which can only mean that she's missing something.
When the guard doesn't respond, Jorick continues as if he did. "That trinket around your neck marks you as a Second Rank Battle Mage, right? But you're only Platinum level. So if we were to fight, how do think that'd go?"
The guard doesn't respond beyond a simple narrowing of the eyes, and Jorick chuckles slightly at that, smiling sardonically as he continues, "It'd be close, right?"
"Jorick Davison!" The Cohenberg interrupts, face red. "You may be Orichalcum, but I demand an explanation!"
Jorick sighs playfully and shakes his head before meting the Noble's furious gaze.
"What I'm trying to get at, Cohenberg, is that perhaps you should ask your guard what they think of their chances against that thing. Battle Mages tend to have a good sense for this sort of thing, you know?"
Binyamin's glare the turns upon his guard, and he only manages to growl out a single demanding word.
"Explain."
The Mage glances at him briefly before returning his attention to her, the greatest threat in the room, and his lips only twitch up slightly as he responds.
"Mr Davison is just being really round-a-bout saying that she's strong, my Lord. Stronger than I can really protect you from if it came down to it."
"Wha- But you're a Battle Mage!" Binyamin retorts, a mixture of shocked and angry and maybe a little bit scared. Tsk, Nobles. "Surely there is something you can do!?"
The Mage shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'd die." He speaks with certainty yet calmly despite the words, and his next he speaks directly to her. "I'd love to try, though."
Kierra likes this guy. He really is an exemplary picture of what a Mage should be.
Jorick shakes his head, muttering "Of course you'd say that," with a wry smile.
The Cohenberg however is far less calm, flitting his eyes between his guard and Kierra, who herself decides to strike while the moment is ripe.
"Your son grabbed my student," she says, bringing all eyes back on her, though she only stares into Binyamin's. "He should apologise."
Binyamin grits his teeth and glares, but credit where credit is due, he is at least capable enough to see the writing on the wall. Hence why instead of yelling pejoratives as he no doubt desires to, the Cohenberg simply sends her a smile that comes out as more of a grimace.
"Children are often rash," Binyamin sends a short glare to his son before his attention returns to her. "The folly of youth," he explains, "Enjoy your ride."
Then, without any biting remarks or final words, Binyamin simply turns on his heel and stomps his way back down to the other side of the carriage. His entourage follows after him in various states of discontent.
She doesn't miss the lack of an actual apology, but she also doesn't care. That's not what her words meant anyway. Asking for an apology was just her giving him an out so that this interaction could end peacefully. They do have a long ride ahead of them after all.
Kierra returns the nod sent her way by the guard and then follows suit, sliding back into her booth under the astonished eyes of Flamelle.
"It's over?" The girl whispers to her, "Just like that?"
Kierra nods. "The scales were always in our favour, he just needed to realise it. As a Count, his Title gives him power over the lives of others, but he is only a Count. There isn't much that he could do even just to an Orichalcum, let alone me. I am strong enough that I could kill ten Counts and the King would still hesitate to make me an enemy of his Kingdom. Regardless of that though, tell me Flamelle, what is a Battle Mage?"
A snort from their side draws their eyes back to Jorick, who takes a sip from a fresh bottle of booze before he speaks up, counting down on his fingers as he does.
"Titled at the minimum, unafraid of poking a Kingdom's Nobility, wearing Robes I could probably never afford and you don't even know what a Battle Mage is?" Jorick shakes his head, amusement clear. "I know you long-lived Races can be out of touch sometimes, but this is too much. Reminds me of those old stories, Dragons disguising themselves to live among us mere mortals for a time."
He turns sly, teasing eyes upon her. "So? How are you liking it, Miss Dragon? I'd ask to see your hoard, but as much as I'd like to see so much treasure, I'd rather keep living."
Kierra finds his words particularly amusing because for all that they are clearly said in jest, he's technically not entirely wrong.
The system abbreviates Races when there is too much diversity, cutting out the less significant bits. As it happens, Kierra is a Lich, inhabiting the body of a Demon and with her Phylactery storing her Soul inside of the heart of a Dragon. So if her Status were to display her full Race, then a more accurate read would be [Race: Archlich Demon Emperor Dragon King].
Her level is over 2,000, making for four Race advancements. That accounts for the Tier 5 Archlich and Demon Emperor Races. But the Dragon's heart in her chest came from a [Dragon King], which is a Tier 4 Race. If that was at the same level, then her abbreviated Status would probably read her Race as [Race: Draconic Demon Archlich].
Not that she is going to explain any of that, naturally. Even ignoring the fact that Liches are perhaps the most reviled Race within this world, just the Dragon part could cause her a lot of annoyance if people started talking about it. She doesn't feel like being subject to a Witch Hunt, even if she doubts anyone would really be able to kill her.
Instead of responding to Jorick, Kierra simply waves a hand and throws up a silencing Spell around their booth. She notices him laugh at that, though obviously doesn't hear it, before her attention returns to Flamelle.
Flamelle meets her gaze silently, and the silence quickly grows awkward.
"Battle Mages?" Kierra prompts, snapping the girl back into focus.
"Right, uhm," Flamelle lightly shakes her head, her next words coming out stronger. "Yeah, Battle Mages are like, the elite of the elite. The most skilled Mages in the world, at least when it comes to combat anyway. They're famed for being able to win fights even against opponents of much higher levels. Battle Mages are even more elite than Red Robes, and everyone wants to be a Red Robe."
Kierra makes sure to take that 'everyone' to be the kind of thing a kid says about the job they want. Like a kid that wants to be a fireman saying how everyone wants to be a fireman because they can't imagine anyone not wanting that.
Still, Kierra is interested.
From what she has heard of this Red Institute from Flamelle, she finds their methods of teaching rather lacking. Whoever is training these Battle Mages on the other hand, if this guard is an accurate example, then Kierra very much agrees with whatever it is they are doing over there.
Shaking her head, she puts those thoughts aside for now.
"Flamelle." The girl straightens slightly in attention. "Consider this you sixth lesson. Always assume the worst of Nobility. Assume that they are greedy, prideful, fragile egoists. You will be right more often than you will be wrong, and in the case that you are wrong, the Noble in question would likely forgive you. If you show weakness to such a person, they will exploit you of everything you have and leave little more than a husk to remain."
Flamelle considers her for a long moment, silently thinking, before eventually nodding.
"You don't think very highly of Nobility Mistress Kette, do you."
It is not a question, but she answers anyway. "No, I do not."
Kierra is pretty happy to note that Flamelle only hesitates very briefly before speaking up again. "May I know why?"
"History," is Kierra's immediate answer. "My dislike of Nobility isn't entirely out of personal bias, though I can admit that I disagree with the concept on principle. The endless greed and lust for power and control that the rich and powerful exhibit is not a prejudice. It is a known and well catalogued fact that has been consistent throughout all of history. Most systems of power, governments and companies for instance, tend to start out altruistic enough. But through time, they are all corrupted. Everyone wants more out of life, that is the nature of being alive. But when a commoner wants a percentage improvement to their life, it effects nothing. However, when a Noble wants that same percentage improvement, it costs the lives and labour of thousands, millions of poor citizens. Yet rarely does that stop them. Always wanting more."
Kierra lets out a shallow breath as she finishes her piece, realising that she's probably said more words in this carriage than she has since she woke up inside this body.
Too many words. She's tired.
So instead of saying anything else, Kierra just gestures to the Grimoire Flamelle set aside. "You have your food now. Get back to picking out a Spell. Whatever you choose is what we will focus on for a while, so find something you like."
The girl nods and does so. She is clearly still thinking over everything that just happened, but her eagerness to read Kierra's Grimoire is great enough to pull her in regardless.
Kierra meanwhile, leans back in the booth and rests her eyes.
Getting under the skin of a Noble is always going to be fun, but damn if all of that wasn't just a little bit exhausting. She just hopes the rest of the ride can pass in peace.
Tsk. Shouldn't have thought that.
A faint sigh leaves her at the realisation of what she has signed up for, travelling with a holder of [Advanced Luck Glow].
Ah well, Kierra thinks, her eyes reopening to sight Flamelle nose deep in her Grimoire. It'll be worth it.
///
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
This chapter is apparently basically just me trying to explain how my retarded ass sees interpersonal relationships lmao.
Also, this train ride will be the final part of this story that resembles the Archmage story that inspired this. Mostly because I haven't read that story past like 2 chapters into the capital lol, but mostly cuz I've realised we're not going for the same kinda story. Probably. Idk what they're thinking.