Treasure hunting was a trade inherently averse to self-instruction. Raiding treasure vaults, hazardous dens that could be governed by different principles than the rest of the world, required the accumulated knowledge of those who came before.
Having a mentor made a huge difference when it came to acquisition speed, even when simply honing combat skills. While the basics could be learned from a book, going to a relevant school was the most efficient route. And when it came to learning more complicated practical matters, there was nothing more useful than a mentor with real experience.
Though it was nothing too advanced or applicative, the members of Grieving Souls learned the basic skills and techniques in our hometown prior to joining the Explorers’ Association. Before you can try to aim for the top, you need a mentor who can help make that possible. Naturally, the best mentors were incredibly popular and had no time for people of average talent. Luck also played a part and honestly, calling it a dice roll felt entirely fair.
After becoming a treasure hunter, I had been confronted with the sad fact that I had no talent. However, that didn’t stop me from taking an interest in the mentors my best friends managed to find.
“I’m going to visit the Sword Saint. Basically, I’m going to cut him, and then I’ll become the Sword Saint.”
“Incredible! If it’s not too much to ask, do you think I could come with you?”
“Yeah, come on!”
I was the only member of Grieving Souls without a mentor. This wasn’t a choice I had made; my lack of talent had driven any potential trainers away from me. Still, I thought maybe I could manage something if I had a first-rate mentor.
Hoping that perhaps this master would see potential in me and breathe new life into my hunting career, I headed to the dojo with Luke. He had recently been making a name for himself as a Swordsman you were better off avoiding.
The name Soln Rowell was so famous that we had heard of him all the way back in our hometown. The dojo Luke had previously attended was tiny compared to this one. The vigor of each and every hardworking student was incredible. Luke’s eyes were glimmering, but the sight of them just made my stomach ache.
The Sword Saint was an elderly man with a wrinkled face and a serene expression. Unlike, say, a knight, he wore a robe and looked very cool in it.
“Glad you could make it, Luke. Who’s that?” he asked when Luke strolled in like he owned the place.
“Oh, this is Krai. The friend I told you about before. He’s going to practice with me. That okay?”
I don’t think it’s okay.
The Sword Saint looked at Luke like he had lost his mind. The greatest Swordsman in the imperial capital was about to put his new student to work, only to find he brought a friend. Of course, Soln made that face.
“Ah, no, I’m not here for lessons,” I told the Sword Saint, “I just wanted to watch, that’s all.”
“Oh, you just wanted to observe?” Luke said. “Well, I guess that’s that. Master, I’m ready for one!”
“Hm.” Sol groaned. “Well, I suppose if he just wants to watch, I can allow it.”
I didn’t know what “one” Luke was ready for, but Soln struck me as incredibly patient if he was willing to give him lessons. I nodded to myself. Perhaps this would be a good place for my somewhat wild friend.
“I see,” Soln said, furrowing his brow. “You’re the one Luke was talking about...”
I wanted to know what he meant by that, but I was more interested in watching my best friend’s first lessons.
“Go on! You can do it!”
“Raaugh! Yaah!”
From start to finish, Luke brimmed with excitement during his first lesson under the Sword Saint.
Grinning as I cheered him on, I thought, I’m, uh, I’m not cut out for this. It was less a matter of aptitude and more that I couldn’t possibly manage such a dense training regimen. Just the basic warmups seemed to me like something no human should do. A thousand felt like a crazy number of laps around the perimeter. Then they had to climb the walls and run across the roof. What sort of dojo was this?
The other apprentices were all about as, if not more, capable than Luke. That was probably a good thing, since lately Luke hadn’t lost against a single hunter or bandit, leaving him unsatisfied.
Keeping a cautious eye on Luke, the other apprentices began to shout when their new member began to chop with his hands after his sword was knocked from them.
“Hey, Luke! That’s not a sword technique!”
“Raaaugh! It’s fine! This is another sword!”
Luke ignored the older students and went on the attack. I guess my cheering had an effect on him.
“This isn’t quite the place for me, but I think it’s a good fit for Luke. Please take care of my friend,” I said with a bow.
“No need to sound so high-handed,” Soln replied with a twitching eyebrow. “He’d get proper lessons with or without you!”
✦ ✦ ✦
I had already set my sights on retiring from hunting, but that didn’t mean I had lost all my admiration for hunters. Just laying eyes on a first-rate hunter was enough to excite me (except it wasn’t hunters in this case).
The members of Grieving Souls were all very kind to their one talentless childhood friend. If I told them I wanted to tag along, they would bring me more often than not.
“Krai’s incredible! He’s got a true gift for making explosives!”
“D-Does he?”
With shining eyes, Sitri did her best to upsell my talents. We were at what would be her new place of education, the Primus Institute. I noticed the interviewer’s cheek twitching. Sitri was quite remarkable for securing a coveted spot in a place that was considered top-notch even in the imperial capital. But giving her recommendation to me, a guy who wasn’t an Alchemist or anything, seemed like a mistake.
I had no alchemical talents. I had done this and that after rigorously following her instructions, but giving alchemy anything less than your full dedication was akin to playing with fire. Sitri said I had a gift for synthesizing explosives, but I had never tried to make anything like that in the first place. You could make something explosive by using just about any old ingredients, so I could only imagine what sort of fuss would be raised if I ended up using one of the academy’s valuable catalysts.
“If you get in, let’s conduct experiments together!”
Yeah, I don’t think I’m getting in.
Sitri was grinning at me, but I hadn’t even been able to keep up with her when we studied at the library in our hometown, nor was I as diligent as she thought I was. Experiments that involved using tools were fun, but the studying and calculations put me to sleep. Even if that wasn’t a problem, I didn’t have the intuition and dexterity needed for experiments, so I didn’t see myself ever learning alchemy. And though maybe not to the same degree as with a Swordsman or a Magus, being an Alchemist still required innate talent.
“Well, our party’s already got one Alchemist,” I said, politely turning her down, “and I have other things I have to do...”
“For now, if Sitri is willing to vouch for you, then we can prepare a test,” the interviewer said, eyebrows twitching. “It will be a practical exam in which you make a designated potion using ingredients prepared by the academy. If you pass, we’ll make a special exception for you.”
I see. So the Primus Institute really wants Sitri to join them.
This was the sort of thing I could expect from Sitri. She was attracting attention with her alchemical talents, something that had become rare among young hunters. The interviewer’s offer wasn’t a bad one. There was no penalty even if I failed, so I may as well give it a shot.
I put on a hard-boiled smile and agreed to the test. Sitri, with her oddly high opinion of me, squealed with delight.