God of Trash

It was still early enough in the day for classes to be proceeding. Rhys strolled around the main square, considering his options. Potions again… but he might as well attend a few other classes just to learn what they were. Plus, potions were mostly rote memorization. He’d only attended a practical lesson to learn how to operate a cauldron. Now that he’d done that, he pretty much just needed to read recipes and follow them. He had enough practice cooking for one that he could manage that much.

Basically, he didn’t want to attend any class that was designed to force small children into rote memorization. He already knew how to memorize things, and had the discipline to do it, besides. He’d gain more out of reading a book than attending one of those classes.

The other thing was, as Straw had indicated, this was less a school and more a gathering of fish, or rather, mages. The classes were generally shaped around what the elder mages wanted to teach, rather than what low-level mages needed to learn. Sure, there were a few designed for the children, like Sorden’s potions, a mana-gathering class, and a class about how to gain, and then activate, skills, but aside from the bare essentials necessary to qualify as a mage, the rest of the classes were completely random. ‘Advanced Astronomy,’ that appeared to just be astronomy, ‘The Search for Nightdark Truffles and the Usage of Pig-type Beasts to Find Them,’ that seemed to be a rote-memorization kind of cooking class, and ‘On the Appreciation of Mustelids,’ which, when he peeked his head in, really was just about appreciating ferrets. There was nothing magical about the class, but also a shocking lack of live mustelids, which was unfortunate. He considered attending that one, but reconsidered when he saw the entire lecture hall was vacant and the professor, an old man in tattered clothes, was rambling on to himself. He tucked that one into the back of his mind for later, but left it behind for fairer waters for today. Best to skim the waves before he plunged deep, as it were.

The mana-gathering class was meant for Tier 0 mages, so he was already too high-Tier for it. Not only that, but it really was the most basic of basics. Rhys listened for long enough to understand he already understood everything they were teaching, but no longer. He popped his head into the skill class in hopes it might teach him something like an ignition skill, but the teacher was focused on teaching young mages how to activate their first skills, rather than teaching useful skills. He listened for a while, but quickly understood that there was nothing worth learning here. When the teacher suggested advanced students might attend the library to read skill manuals in hopes of learning skills from their pages, he stood up and outright left. If the teacher was telling him to go to the library, he certainly didn’t need to stick around here.

Rhys didn’t go to the library immediately, however. That was definitely a rest-of-the-day, maybe rest-of-the-four-weeks kind of task. Instead, he headed to the final remaining basics class: the martial arts lesson.

He heard the class before he saw it. Dozens of children, shouting throaty cries with each blow. They walked through basic forms one strike at a time. He stood at the back, watching with his arms crossed. There was nothing wrong with their practice, but the fighting style was… how to say? Simple. Compared to Straw’s dynamic style, or even Bast’s scrappy streetfighting, it was very pure. Purehearted. Clean. Straightforward. Nothing wrong with that, especially for beginners, but it wasn’t anything he needed to learn. He’d be better off continuing to practice what he’d already learned from Straw and Bast.

Rhys turned to leave, only to find himself inches from an absolute wall of muscle. Rhys stumbled back, startled. A huge bulk of a man loomed over him with a manic smile on his face. He reminded Rhys of his high school gym teacher, though slightly less balding and a little more handsome.

“Why so quick to leave? There’s no need to be shy. Come on, join in on the fun!” The man pushed Rhys toward the field of practicing disciples.

“I’m just here to observe,” Rhys excused himself, and tried to dodge around the man.

The man’s body blurred. He blocked Rhys’ way once more. “It never hurts to grow stronger. Even a dedicated mage can use martial arts.”

“I agree, I agree,” Rhys said, and dodged the other way.

Again, the man blocked his way. “If you agree, then why not join in?”