13 The Imperial Academy (1/2)
Known as the mother of talents, the Imperial Academy was the number one magical institution of Arcadia, founded by the first emperor to assess and groom the new generations of arcane talents. Bound to the imperial crown, it also served as an information-gathering machine enabling the von Skoll emperors to hold precise knowledge of the various kingdoms' top talents.
The Emperor of Arcadia, the Grandmasters of the Seven Orders, the King of Orloth, the Duke of Kars—all were graduates of the Imperial Academy. Of course, their performances and gains vastly differed. Niklas von Skoll, the emperor, was the mightiest graduate of the Imperial Academy in the last 500 years.
His magical powers were such that with a spell, he could obliterate entire countries. Before him, the likes of King Erik could only grovel like baseborn serfs. And in this generation, only the Duke of Kars appeared as sufficiently gifted to catch up to the emperor's might. But whether he would live to reach that altitude still was a matter of debate.
In fact, within the imperial city, many noblemen and women wondered why Klaus still breathed.
”Although the Imperial Academy's strength loses to the top three Grand Orders, it can rival the lower four. The department chairs all are at least low-level Archons while the headmaster stands at the top-level. As for the remaining instructors, they at least are High Emissaries. How do you plan to subvert them?” Jezebel directly asked. While her strength surpassed that of the Imperial Academy, in the mortal plane, she couldn't run amok.
The higher they ranked, the more restricted fehls were in the mortal plane. Those at Ashera's level couldn't even step foot into it, at least not without triggering cataclysmic events. Although Jezebel's shackles were nowhere near that threshold, Kilian couldn't rely on her to overturn the seas and heavens.
”Let's not even discuss subverting; even the entrance is a problem,” Kilian began, straightening his back to face his fehl partner. ”500 qraftas for one year of tuition fees. On average, 50 qraftas per book. I'm too poor to set foot into the door.” The Imperial Academy was part of the many topics discussed by Klaus; therefore, Kilian had an in-depth understanding of the institution.
Money served as a barrier of entry to prevent the lesser nobility from accessing the academy's elitist community. Typically - in terms of status - the descendants of marquises were the lowest-ranked students within the academy. Of course, some counts would break their treasury to send one offspring to the academy in hopes of building lifelong connections. As for magically gifted commoners, unless they obtained the sponsorship of high-ranking nobles, the Imperial Academy would never open its door to them.
In his previous life, if he'd not received the fehl taint, as the heir of Kars, Kilian would now be a student of the Imperial Academy with a status similar to royal princes. But now, he couldn't even afford to glance at the door—the plight of the common man.
”That's not difficult. Just rob the coin. Don't we have a viscount nearby awaiting plunder?” Jezebel offered, speaking with such candor that her words almost sounded righteous—almost.
Still, Kilian shook his head in disapproval. ”Short-sighted, we might as well tame the cow with nano-spiders, and use him as a source of investments to turn the slums into a new source of income. Through the fleshcrafting of dead or living women, I can create an unrivaled brothel that will not only serve as a vast source of income but feed me with a large array of information.”
”Would you rather use dead women because they'd entirely be at your service and wouldn't require further tempering? But at your current level, you can't possibly produce a functional brain.”
”Actually, that doesn't really matter. I can produce and link their bodies to A.I. chips to replace the brain. That or create nano spiders to control the living. I just think that having noblemen scream in delight from the touch of corpse-made puppets would make my life more entertaining.”
”Spoken like a true fehl. When do we start?”
”After we destroy the house and bury the dead lady.”
Following the exchange, Jezebel snapped her fingers, making the two get dressed in record's time. They then stood up and walked out of the house. Throughout the slums, no proper burial place existed. Bodies were either tossed into ditches or cremated on open-air pyres. Kilian chose the latter. Understanding his thoughts, Jezebel snapped her fingers, causing orange flames to surge from the ramshackle house and turn it into a raging inferno.