Heaven's Greatest Professor

The steward of the third infantry brought him to his new workstation--a warehouse full of stored weaponry and tools. More than half of them would need repairing, and from how the steward addressed him, it appeared his task to do so.

Warden couldn't help but let out a sigh. "I cannot work in here."

The steward, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, frowned. "What do you mean you cannot work here?" he said. "I thought you were in the front lines for about a couple of weeks, you should know the penalty of disobedience."

Warden clicked his tongue. "I mean I cannot work in this dark and gloomy warehouse."

"There's light contrast in place," the steward said, and even activating one to give a better view of the wide warehouse. Warden didn't think it was only the goods of the third infantry stored here.

"A little better, but no," Warden shook his head and turned. "Just give me an open space to work with. . . Just looking at all this clutter and scrap junk will make my head spin."

The steward snorted, but didn't insist upon him staying in here to work. "How about the forging work? You can't just do them anywhere?"

"Yeah, I'm not doing that," he snorted. "Nor am I any good in it."

Of course, Warden had hardly practiced to know if he was any good in it. It was just the vibe he got. He wasn't as acclaimed in it as in runes.

"Let's just focus on repairing these scrapes," he said. "There's a shit ton of them. . . which reminds me, don't you guys have some resident runesmith who could repair weaponry?"

He figured it was necessary to have runemsiths in every infantry to make the army function. Of course, the case for the 16th infantry was completely different. They were only given a pittance for all the work they did, much less having a runesmith in their rank who could fix their weapon for free.

That remained him, the contribution points he'd get from repairing the weapons of the soldiers were quite a sum, even when considering he'd only get a fifth of it. He could make just as much if not more fixing weapons as he made out on the front lines risking his life against forsaken.

This wasn't really fair to the poor soldiers who had to risk their lives, but then again, is there anything completely fair in the world?

"We do have a couple of them," Steward said. "They weren't free to repair weapons most of the time."

"That's how all this clutter was made in the first place, huh?"

"Usually, the damaged weapons were sent to either the secondary unit who are in charge of repair, or a contracted third-party association like the Dragonforge. The repairing unit is in decline since its origin, as you can imagine nobody wants to live on the frontline, scraping junks when they can make banks elsewhere."

Warden does understand that, He was with the same mind as well. Just looking at the clutter of junk here made his skin crawl. He knew most of them were fixable, though he was unsure how much of it would be worth it."

Letting out a sigh, Warden addressed the steward, "I'd be on the barren field you excused as garden, working." he pulled a couple of weapons out of the rabble. "You can arrange for someone to deliver the junk. Of course, if you don't have a man to spare, I can only put my limbs to work.

"Good day working with you."

Without giving the steward much to say, Warden departed. He knew he was being an extra bit antsy, but he deserved to be. He was getting a pittance for his work, even putting aside the punishment. Not to mention, after hearing about the backstory of the people from the sixteenth infantry, his impression of this whole military and arcane society only diminished.

Still, there were five months and two weeks to go. I wonder if I can take a break to get out of the rift, Warden thought. It's probably been a little over a day for June, but it has been a long time since he had seen her.

****

Jessica rocked back and forth in her seat, absent-mindedly listening to the words of the steward. It wouldn't matter even if she didn't listen. Aerel, her second in command seated opposite to her, was more than enough to take care of these mundane tasks. Sadly, the girl grumbles too much if she leaves everything to her.

"The Major Colonel has called for a meeting in the evening at the sixth bell," John, the steward of the 3rd infantry, continued. "Every captain under him to be present in the meeting."

Jessica perked up on that. "What is this urgency about?"

"We are not given any specifics," the steward said, presenting her with a note. "It said to be related to some inheritance ruin."

"If he's calling all 16 captains, it must be something of importance," Aerel added.

Jessica's eyes skimmed once on the note and handed it to Aerel. "It has been some time since we found anything good in any of the ruins," she said, not getting her hopes up. "I don't expect much from the second fold."

"Still, you can just send me to the meeting as your stand-in," Aerel added with a hardness in her tone.

Jessica hadn't really been thinking about sending Aerel in her place like most of the time, but the plump woman wasn't wrong in thinking she would like to send her.

"Nah, for this time I won't want to miss it," she said, showing a bit of her interest. "It has been some while since I met all the captains."

Aerel relaxed a little, visibly slumping her shoulders. She had been a lot more stress than Jessica seemed to have known. "What about the Major General?" her second in command asked softly. "Do you think he'll—"

"Terel is not a man who's used to hearing no," Jessica answered with a sigh. "But I'm a woman of my word, the last thing I'll give him is satisfaction and an affirmation to woo me."

Aerel shook her head and shot her a gaze, her eyes were exceptionally tender. "Have you ever wondered, that you've gone too far?" she asked. She threw the steward a gaze, but knowing he was completely loyal to Jessica, she continued, "He's not really that bad of a man, you know?

You thought he was after your father's wealth, but his affection for you didn't change even after you have cut your ties with your family. He even keep up with all your tantrums."

Jessica snorted. "My poor Aerel, you still don't know how black the hearts of men like Terel Walt's are. It's not just a matter of winning my father's wealth for him anymore. No, it was more about pride. I admit he is a good officer, hell, better than myself for where it didn't matter and where it did, but to him, I'm simply a tool, a thing to be conquered."

Aerel still didn't look convinced. She had been down on confidence for a time. "Still, don't you think you have gone too far?" she repeated her question.

"With him, no, not at all," she said and then sighed. "But perhaps I have gone a bit extra hard with my family. I'm not worried about my mother, and father is too busy to listen to his children's tantrums."

"Then what?"

"I cannot help but worry that I've set a bad example for my brother," Jessica said ruefully, yet she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of pride seeping into her. He too had set aside with their parents and was forming a guild on his own. Well, she knew her little brother always had a goal of becoming a hero and saving people. . .

She remembered when they were children, Jason had always caused a big tantrum if he didn't become the hero.

They had lost contact with each other for the last few years. . . well, only months for her brother. The issue with their parents and the isolation of the rift only made it harder.

However, only recently, Jason had contacted her and asked for something from her. After so many years. . .

"You seem overly proud of that fact?" Aerel said. Of course, Jessica couldn't hide her expression from this woman.

"I'm always proud of my brother," she said matter-of-factly.

"And of herself as well," Aerel snorted.

Jessica grinned impishly, she couldn't disagree with that either. She turned to the steward, who hadn't left, so there should be something more. "Is there anything else, John?"

"The guy you asked to transfer from the 16th infantry," John said. "He joined today. There's no issue, just that you asked me to let you know once it has been taken care of."

Ahh, the condemned guy her brother asked to help, transferring from the sixteenth infantry.

"How's he?" she asked. Perhaps she should have some time to meet him, he was after all her brother's friend. Maybe she had lost contact with her brother, but she was sure of one thing, that her brother was not big on making friends.

"He's alright," John said. "Has an attitude, but that's common for the artisan of his profession to have. Thankfully, he has the credibility to match that. Has been working for hours in the topical garden without many breaks."

"Why at the garden?" Aerel asked, frowning.

"Apparently, the repository or workstation is not work-friendly to him."

"Nothing is really too friendly here in the front lines," Jessica said. "Regardless, treat him well. Like you do to a good soldier."