The Prince in Question Is Not Stable

Chapter 80: Routines

The week began the way most weeks do after a significant event. A particular silence and calmness, the one no one would expect Marcus to have, despite the fact that he’s the headline of all newsletters.

There was still no letter from Violet, but Marcus wasn’t worried because Graves was surveilling the ones who were surveilling her.

Marcus, too, had noticed nothing in particular that could point towards the mastermind behind Cymbal, but he knew that they weren’t just sitting idle either.

He had a habit of rising before sunrise; his body had reached a fine state, it had no impurities, and enough energy to sustain him without sleep for weeks, but mental fatigue was a different story, so he tried to sleep daily or lie down with his eyes closed.

The private quarters assigned to the head professor of his rank were generous and connected to his office. A bedroom with a window facing east, a dining room that was openly connected to a narrow gallery for servers.

He stood in the centre of the sitting room, which was exactly theme-aligned with his office, in dark furniture and wooden panel floorings.

And he closed his eyes.

The black canvas technique began the same way every time, a deliberate attempt, not a single thought in meditation that varied his focus. The mental equivalent of clearing a desk, but not even scratching the surface of the mind realm.

The only sensation and feeling he remembered was the one he had been forcefully pulled in by the fragment.

But, this wasn’t the only thing he focused on; repeated attempts of failures can frustrate anyone and he knew that, so he kept changing his training focus time to time.

Sometimes it was Aura refinement. Because Marcus didn’t have a core, and that made his ability to use aura was simple but extremely difficult to control. For he had to sense every ounce of it within his body and set a path for himself, but that changed him.

Every individual particle of aura his body circulated was constantly processed by him, instead of being handled by the core. Still, over time, this had become a motor function of the body rather than deliberate.

Refinement took a hundred times less than an average aura refinement method, and provided extreme precision, which was a really important factor.

The next few days were like a gentle breeze. He would visit the classes, assign them some small tasks for progression, get back, and train.

Not a single professor was friends with Marcus Rile; to them, he wasn’t just a head professor after all. Even the cadets were too afraid to approach him for queries, even if he was easy-going.

Marcus passed a group of cadets on his way out of the east wing, not a single person noticed him even he walked past them.

The academy at mid-morning had a nerdy environment, classes were sessions, which meant the corridors were mostly empty, just the occasional cadet moving between buildings with a hurried pace.

The training grounds broke that silence as Marcus crossed different wings on his stroll.

A line of cadets stood across from one another with their wooden blades raised, stances uneven, most of them were commoners because nobles were training in their own arts.

At the centre of it all stood Jose.

He wasn’t dressed like a noble, nor did he carry himself like one; his uniform was simple, sleeves rolled, a faint scar visible from the open shirt buttons, the one that he got in Crescenda.

"Again," he growled in a firm voice.

Two cadets stepped forward, blades clashing with a dull crack.

Jose stepped in before the exchange could degrade further.

He caught one of the wooden blades mid-swing with his bare hand and twisted it enough to break the balance.

"Your strength is wasted if your footing is weak," he said, pushing the blade back toward the cadet’s chest.

He turned slightly, looking at the other, "Retreating isn’t a strategy if you don’t know when to stop."

The cadets straightened in attention immediately, but they were gawking at each other with their eyes.

Jose was being...really polite with these cadets. He was trying to be really polite and would glance at the benches at the corner of the grounds from time to time.

Professor Harriet Schenkel, dark hair pulled into a bun, silver spectacles resting low on her nose, a thin chain glinting faintly draped along her neck. She wore a long dark coat over a tight dress, and certainly didn’t have the physique of a warrior; instead, she was a normal human. She looked calm and cold, completely focused on her textbook, solving mathematical equations mentally.

Jose cleared his throat once.

"Again," he said.

The two cadets stepped forward once more, their blades rose into the position, and the clash resumed.

Jose watched them for a moment, and then his gaze flickered once again.

But then he paused. He looked back at the cadets, furrowed his brows and stared back at where Harriet was.

"..." Marcus was sitting beside Harriet, and she hadn’t even noticed him there.

Marcus scoffed and waved at Jose, and then he pointed at Harriet.

"..." Jose shook his head.

Marcus nodded.

’Why’s he nodding?’ Jose thought.

Marcus leaned in towards Harriet and peeked into her book.

"Hmm...Hundred and twelv-"

"Ih!!" Harriet screamed at the sudden appearance and fell on the other side of the desk.

Marcus, however, made sure to grab the book before it fell.

Joze Forze and the cadets turned to look at the source of the high-pitched scream.

For a brief moment, the entire training ground forgot what they were doing.

"Ah..." Marcus murmured, glancing down at her with mild curiosity, he still held the book in his hand instead of giving out a hand.

Harriet rose without assistance, brushing her dusty coat and adjusting her spectacles, then extended her hand, and Marcus placed the book back into it.

"Apologies," she said with her voice returning to its usual cold cadence, as if the earlier outburst never occurred.

"I was...startled," she said.

"No worries," Marcus replied, "I just got curious seeing maths equations, been a long time."

"Oh, right, Professor Rile was an academic researcher, I’ve heard of your tales from my friends in the other Kingdom," she said, and took a seat.

"Just lightwork, Professor Jose is a fine mathematician too, he just never...reveals some facts," Marcus spoke, looking at Jose, who was walking towards them.

"Professor Jose?" Harriet pointed at Jose, furrowing her brows. "No way."

"Yes way, you should ask him to cover for you in classes, he mostly stays in the training grounds, I fear he’d get tanned to the point he’ll change the colour of his skin."

"Professor Jose...never told me he had studied this subject," she replied.

"I wouldn’t lie to you now, would I? And he needs to have a...normal companion in this academy, what if the frustration of non-progressing children kills him from inside?" Marcus shook his head in disappointment.

"And he respects you a lot, I cannot deny that," Marcus continued.

"Really? Me?" Harriet pointed at herself.

"Professor Rile," Jose chimed in, and then bowed slightly towards Harriet.

"What’re you discussing about? I’m curious," he said.

"Ser Jose, you never said that you were a great mathematician? Why do you hide that fact?" Harriet asked.

"...Uh...I am a great mathematician?" Jose repeated.

Jose is a man who gets confused between the plus and multiplication sign because they’re both just crosses to him.

"That is impressive," Harriet nodded, and Jose looked at Marcus.

"Indeed impressive," Marcus, too, nodded.

"I think both of you should accompany each other in classes. Professor Harriet needs to have the basics of combat learned, even if she’s not a warrior or a magician, and Professor Jose needs some time off the grounds, so that’s a perfect team, what do you think, Ms Harriet?" Marcus looked at her, ignoring Jose’s reaction.

"That does sound perfect, I hope it’s not a problem for Professor Jose?" She was still hesitant.

Marcus looked at Jose, waiting for his response.

"Nonono, not a problem, I would be, in fact, delighted to assist you," he replied.

Marcus stood up and patted Jose’s shoulder, and in that short moment, Jose constructed a faint aura shield.

"With due respect...Professor Rile, I failed in maths in all of my classes," he said.

"Best of luck," Marcus just broke the faint shield and walked away.

Jose just stood there. He contemplated what had just happened.

He was still processing all of it.

Harriet adjusted her spectacles again and looked at him.

"I’m gonna die," he mumbled.

"Professor Jose, you do not seem... confident like earlier," Harriet spoke.

"I-" He thought for a moment.

"...Nothing to worry about, I just get a little nervous around Professor Rile, why do you think so?" he composed himself.

"Good," she replied. "Having a mathematician to assist me is far better than a cadet,"

"Assist...?" Jose asked, mumbling.

"Yes, you just agreed to it right...in teaching maths," Harriet spoke.

’What in the world-’