The Good Teacher

Chapter 92 Interesting Tales



Goran's emotions fluctuated from one end to another as a series of thoughts and conclusions ran rampant through his head.

"Hahahahaha!" He laughed fanatically as he waved an arm, pulling a chair from the classroom behind him towards himself.

"I want you to explain to me your rationale," Goran declared inquisitively as he sat down.

"Father..." Jean pleaded. "This is... inappropriate," she reasoned.

"Nonsense! The boy said that he has never seen a Red Dragon before, I believe him. He said that he read about it in a book, and then drew it out based on the descriptions, I believe him. But I want to know how he was able to capture the aura of the Red Dragon so intricately, and that too with such accuracy?" Goran replied.

He turned to Kano, and said, "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to read this excerpt. Unless of course you aren't allowed to share it."

Kano shrugged, ran over to a shelf and pulled out a massive book, almost as thick as his arm. He placed the heavy book on a table and familiarly scrolled through the pages, stopping around two-third of the way through.

"Here," Kano said while pointing at a passage on the book.

Goran walked over and started to peruse through the text. Being at the Core Condensation realm, speed-reading was a trivial task for him. He flipped through the pages while simultaneously absorbing everything inscribed on them. With each passing second, another page was turned, and the expression on Goran's face morphed capriciously.

Unknowingly, Goran had flipped towards the end of the book. Without pause, he returned to the start and began reading, working his way furiously towards the point where he had initially started.

"This book, is it a travelogue? A journal of some sort?" Goran asked Kano.

'J.R.R. Tolkein? I haven't heard of this mage before. He must be an ancient one too! The text is extremely detailed, albeit a little vague in some areas. Some of the magic described is extremely old and cryptic, but it is definitely cross-referenceable. Maybe... is he the one behind Guy's inheritance?'

"No. Teacher Larks said it was a work of f-f-fiction," Kano explained.

"That can't be true. The details are so vivid and lifelike. It has to be a journal from well before the Age of Isolation. Some of the races described in here are now extinct on this Realm, after all," Goran continued.

Kano shook his head and repeated, "Teacher Larks specifically said that it was a work of fiction. None of it is true."

"That may be the case my boy, but fiction often has its roots in reality. For instance, Trolls used to be a widespread menace in swamps and murky regions back in the day, although now they are more of an endangered species. Goblins and Dwarfs are from the Fel realm, so are Dragons! The skin-changers and Elves are endemic to the Fae realm. Finally that ring! It's obviously a Legendary grade enchanted artefact, probably of Dwarven origin I presume!" Goran further reasoned.

"Wow! You know so much!" Kano exclaimed with starry eyes. The childlike fascination and praise unwittingly boosted Goran's ego. The man smiled warmly and rubbed the little boy's head. The girl, Dora, approached Goran as well and asked with an excited tone, "Uncle, have you seen the Great Eagles before?"

Goran tilted his head and thought for a while. "I haven't seen any avian beasts exactly like the ones called Great Eagles described in the book. However, the closest one I can recollect is the Thunderbirds of the Wrathful-Peak Mountain at the South of the Serrated-Peaks range. They're massive yet extremely rare creatures. Some believe them to be myths, but only those as strong as Teacher Jeeves and I can ever hope to see them. And that is because these birds are extremely elusive and unbelievably fast. I've seen only one in my entire life. It was a juvenile Thunderbird, but it was already at the Core Formation realm. Unlike us humans, the Thunderbirds are gifted with superior bloodlines and are born with a high aptitude for magic. To balance out their strength, though, these creatures rarely give birth."

"Interestingly, these birds mate for life. Quite literally at that too! If a Thunderbird's mate dies, they go through a process of lamentation that invokes a storm of unimaginable proportions, at the end of which they sacrifice their vitality and follow their partners..." As he finished the last sentence, Goran's voice trailed off with a longing tone.

Kano was first to notice Goran's shift in emotions. The boy cautiously grasped onto the saddened man's hands and smiled warmly. Kano's disarming smile melted through Goran's heart and lifted his dampened spirits.

"Anyways... as I was saying. The Thunderbirds are just one such avian species. There are also the Phoenixes of the Melted Islands! They are even rarer to find and are considered one of the strongest beasts attuned to the fire element. In fact, Phoenixes never actually truly die, they simply undergo a process of rebirth through which their soul is recycled. Many consider them to be the true immortals of this world..."

Goran resumed his eager storytelling as the two kids sat down next to him.

Jean observed her father's contented smile for the first time in many years. She too tried to smile with her father, however, she could feel her face opposing her. Slumping her shoulders, she turned to Markus and said, "Why don't we continue?"

Markus nodded and carried on with the tour.

"Well, there isn't much to see around the orphanage. Mister Rasmus said that he would manage your accommodations here in the future, however, for the time being, you will have to bunk with my sister. I hope that is okay? If you have any questions, ask away!"

Jean thought for a while, and said, "Is there anything I need to do to prepare? Does Teacher Larks expect anything from me before the beginning? Any tests I need to prepare myself for?"

"Woah! Woah! Relax. Can you read?" Markus quickly interrupted Jean.

Jean pursed her lips and nodded.

"That's good. That's all you need to know. You should trust Master Larks. You should trust his process. I was much, much worse than you in the beginning. At least you had access to resources, and Teachers actually bothered to turn your way and put some effort into trying to teach you. I didn't even have that. But look at me now! It was all thanks to Master Larks' efforts and skills."

With a nostalgic smile, Markus continued, "When we first met, I was a completely lost cause. I was ready to give up! But then I met Master Larks. In our very first encounter, he promised me that he would find a way for me to advance in my cultivation."

Markus chuckled, "It is needless to say, but Master definitely went above and beyond what he promised. For that, I will always be grateful. So, don't worry. You just need to apply yourself and put just as much effort and Master does in your training. Got it!"

Jean nodded vigorously, with a firm expression, and replied, "This one understands, Senior Brother!"

Markus' neck reddened in embarrassment. He quickly muttered in a low voice, "M-Master said not to call me that..."

As he finished, he noticed Jean's shoulders twitching in mirth. His expression darkened visibly, and he spoke with a stern tone, "You're pranking me."

But he was quickly met with a firm slap to the back of his head, "Stop scaring my Little Sis, you stinky boy!"

"Big Sis..." Markus replied while massaging his head.

"Big Sis," Jean said while lowering her head.

"Oh, my cute Little Sis! Tell me immediately if this brat is being pretentious or overbearing! I'll teach him a lesson," Marie declared.

"Big Sis, please..." Markus pleaded. "Leave me some dignity in front of my Junior," he added with a bitter smile.

"Pssht! Respect through seniority is all bullshit! Listen here, Jean! If you want respect, you need to earn it. People tend to take it for granted when they are given respect for no apparent reason," Marie reprimanded while glancing at Markus from the corner of her gaze.

"Anyways what are you guys doing here?" She asked.

"Jean here will be staying with us while under Master's tutelage. Until her father manages her accommodations, she will need to sleep over, so I was hoping-"

"Shameless boy! How can a teenage, unmarried, girl sleep in the same room as an adolescent, sexually charged, boy like you?" Marie interrupted. "Thank goodness I caught you, otherwise I fear that you will have taken advantage of my poor, innocent Little Sis."

Jean's and Markus' faces both reddened at the same time as embarrassment swept over.

"M-Marie!" Markus hurriedly stuttered. "I was bringing her-"

"Don't listen to him, Little Sis! You can bunk with me tonight," Marie interjected once again. She stuck out her tongue at Markus, grabbed Jean's hand and pulled her away.

With Jean gone, the only people left in the tour were a red-faced and sheepish Markus, and a completely stoic and unfazed Josie.

The two gazed at each other as an awkward silence began to stew over.

"So..." Markus said to break through the discomfort.

"I saw your match against Gaige Bori," Josie spoke up. "You fought well. It wasn't an easy matchup."

"Thank you," Markus replied with a wry smile. The fight was still sort of a sore spot for him.

"You don't understand. I was sincere when I praised your mettle. I've personally experienced a |Wave of Darkness|, the spell Gaige cast near the end. And that too from a mature Abyssal Wyrm at the prime of her life. I know what it feels like. You fought well."

Markus' eyes widened in surprise.

Suddenly, Josie's tone turned incisive, "I can rest assured that Young Miss has a strong and capable Senior brother such as yourself. And if what you said is true, that your Master played a large role in your success, I am glad to know that my Young Miss will be treated well."

The statements, though genuine, had a tinge of threat embedded into them that struck Markus. He realised that Josie wasn't speaking her mind, rather she was making a declaration. She was telling him to make sure that Jean wasn't harmed, wronged, or hurt in any way.

Just as Markus was about to speak his piece in response, Josie disappeared, leaving no trace of her presence.

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