As it turned out, if Damian actually possessed the skill of Metamagic, he wouldn't have spent six whole years failing to master the First Tier.
Before long, our grand Third Prince was outside, standing alongside his poor study companion, Spa Spencer. By the time today's lessons finally drew to a close, the calves of both boys were trembling uncontrollably.
High Priestess Mariana packed up her belongings and stepped out. She gave the two "door gods" a meaningful look before raising a hand.
"[Mass Cure Light Wounds]"
A verdant glow blossomed over the two of them. Instantly, Damian and the chubby Spa felt their waists stop aching and their legs stop throbbing; they felt like they could stand for another whole afternoon! Of course, the latter was entirely unnecessary.
Under Mariana's watchful eye, Damian shakily stood at attention with Spa. Looking at her posture, they could tell she had more to say. They prayed it wasn't more standing. They had learned their lesson; they just wanted mercy.
Mariana looked at their pathetic states and felt a flicker of amusement, but she kept her voice as stern as possible.
"Prince Damian, Lord Spa—I hope you take this as a warning. Do not do such things in class again. Especially you, Lord Damian. Lord Spa is an arcane magic caster; there is only so much he can learn in this classroom, so his behavior is sometimes excusable. But you are different. In a few years, you will be heading to your fief. Do you intend to remain at the First Tier forever?"
Mariana's gaze was sharp as she pinned Damian down.
Currently, one of the hidden standards for a noble to hold high office in the Holy Kingdom was reaching at least the Second Tier in divine magic. Such knowledge was the bedrock of the nobility; if you couldn't even manage that, what separated you from the commoners? Damian lowered his head, not daring to speak.
Seeing this, Mariana shook her head and slowly walked away. Once the High Priestess was out of sight, the others in the classroom trickled out, most of them looking shaken. They offered Damian words of comfort. Usually, the priest-teachers weren't this strict with the royal children; after all, the Royal Family paid their salaries, and making things too tense wasn't good for anyone's career.
A full morning of punishment standing was rare. But considering Mariana's status, everyone felt this might become the new normal. For a moment, everyone felt their own skin crawl with worry. After a few brief words of sympathy to Damian, they hurried away.
Only after everyone had mostly cleared out did Calca slowly walk out. She glanced in the direction Mariana had gone, then looked at Damian with curiosity.
────────────────────────────────────────
My : https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
I'm not the Queen Greatsword. (41 Chapters, Ongoing)
────────────────────────────────────────
"What's the story? Why are you going to your fief in a few years?"
This was news to Calca. She had assumed her brother would be kept at court by their father. After all, lingering at the First Tier after six years of royal education was undeniably slow—especially since he hadn't even mastered the crucial [Cure Light Wounds].
Calca squinted at him suspiciously. "You didn't ask to go yourself, did you?"
Damian stammered, unable to find his voice. Calca didn't need any more of an answer than that.
"You're really something, Damian. If you try to back out now, Father will probably skin you alive. Fine—from now on, you're training with me."
"Uh... if I start training now, can I still catch up?" Damian asked timidly.
"Don't worry, trust me." Calca patted Damian's shoulder with an air of absolute confidence. "How many times a day do you actually practice your spells? If we supervise each other and put in at least two hours a day, won't one day be worth ten of your previous ones?"
Damian's head slumped in agony. Two hours a day? That would be the death of him!
Calca watched him with a thin, cat-like smile. In this world, there were no "meditation techniques" to increase power; there was only repetitive practice. The body became healthier through exercise, and mana capacity grew slowly through constant depletion and replenishment. This was the "leveling" law of this world. It was why "prodigies" appeared more frequently among adventurers—combat was the ultimate filter for talent.
But Damian was clearly used to a life of comfort. Even knowing what he had to do, he was hesitating. Seeing this, Calca decided to add a little more fuel to the fire. She reached out and physically turned Damian's head so he could see High Priestess Mariana's retreating figure at the end of the corridor.
Calca's light, airy voice drifted into his ear. "That path leads straight to Mother's quarters, you know. I heard she and High Priestess Mariana are quite close. I'm sure Mother would never find out about what happened today..."
Damian immediately grabbed his head, a look of pure despair on his face. "Oh, no!"
Calca simply smiled. You think that's the end of it?
