Outsiders

Thirteen didn't sit down immediately, instead heading to the adjacent kitchen to pick up one of the remaining meals.

Returning to the dining hall, he took a seat next to Ten. All his closest friends were seated at the table, including Nine and Forty-five who had debriefed with Nicholas rather than returning to the dorms.

"Welcome back hero." Four greeted.

"Good to be back. I'm glad you guys are okay."

"Did Nine fill you in yet?" Forty-five asked from across the table.

"Fill me in? No, not that I'm aware of?" Thirteen looked to Nine, confused.

"I tried, but by the time I got back to the dorm you were already asleep. During our debriefing with the Head Instructor, he told us there were far more than just the two mercenaries in the woods."

"What?" Thirteen asked, obviously shocked.

"Apparently there were over a dozen of them, all with the same goal in mind, and all from the Shieldsplitter company." Nine continued with a very grim look as he maintained eye contact with Thirteen.

Grasping his chin and lower lip with his right hand, that ominous feeling made itself known once more.

"The rest of them. The mercenaries. Did they remain in one large group?" He asked

"No." Nine replied, eyes still locked with Thirteen's. "They split up, some solo, others in pairs or trios."

Thirteen's breath became a bit more ragged as he looked down at the food and table before him, his thoughts wandering off. 'That makes no sense, why would they split up so much? Even if they wanted to cover a lot of ground, they should know better if it's a 'common practice' like the scarred man said. Monster hunters usually form groups of at least four before going on a hunt.'

"Alright, It's not all bad." Four's louder voice broke Thirteen from his reverie.

"Everyones fine, no one died. As soon as the instructors found out what was happening they set out to find the groups and help them. They managed to save all those that found themselves in dire straits."

Thirteen took a deep breath. His mind wanted to explore the situation further, but he didn't allow it. 'Everyone's safe. I'm glad.'

With a start however, Thirteen found himself looking at Ten.

"What?" She responded, fork in her mouth and a bit startled.

"The mercenaries. Did your group run into them too?"

"Haha, how harsh Thirteen. I was in her group as well you know? Where's the concern for me?" Four shouted loudly, earning chuckles all around.

"Shut up, your fine" Thirteen grumbled, before looking back to Ten, still waiting for a response.

"Yeah, but it wasn't that bad." She finally replied, a smile still present. "I t-took one, Four took the other, and the rest of our group managed to deal with the third."

Thirteen did notice a slight stutter when she spoke, but otherwise she seemed to be fine. 'Is it really that different? Killing someone in battle rather than…' Shaking the thought from his head, Thirteen smiled in relief that his friends were fine and finally enjoyed the still warm meal before him.

The next hour was an enjoyable one for Thirteen. He and his friends spoke of their hunts, focusing on the monsters rather than the mercenaries, and eagerly traded tales.

When the next day arrived, Every student of the eighth generation was gathered in the theory hall. This was odd, as usually the children would be split into halves, with each attending Theory Hall and Cultivation Hall at different times.

Standing at the podium was not Instructor Piers, though he was still present a few paces behind the speaker. Instead it was Head Instructor Nicholas who addressed the class once it had settled.

"Some of you may have noticed this morning, but your numbers have shrunk since last night. If your friend or comrade is missing do not worry, they are neither dead nor lost.

"Yesterday and the day before it were tragic. Wastes of the kingdom, with nothing of worth to offer turned their backs on the crown, trespassing on owned land, and attacking the future of our kingdom for naught but a few gold pieces.

"However every tragedy has one hint of good fortune. Through the happening of this event, a few of your comrades revealed less than desirable traits, turning on their allies to secure their own survival, or deserting the battle like shameful swine.

"These ungrateful few have been tracked down, stripped of their cultivation and banished from our illustrious estate.

"To those of you who remain here now, you are truly what we hoped you would be. You have each passed the first year's requirements, proving talent in combat and cultivation, while exhibiting the capability to grow up and act as we require.

"You may all now consider yourselves accepted by we Instructors. As of this moment, you are true disciples of the Demia kingdom, and must bear the responsibility that entails.

"For this reason, you will finally learn exactly how you will be of service to the crown.

"The Clarke Estate, or rather, the Clarke Institute, has been operating for just under a century now. It was founded under the orders of late King Reynolds III, and has continued to operate under the rule of his second son King Magnus IV.

"This estate is the only one of its kind within the Demia Kingdom, housing more than a dozen Royal Instructors and a great many loyal, competent cultivators whom you know simply as 'the helpers'."

Thirteen could barely keep up. First he learns that some among them have been exiled during the night, and now he learns that each of these teachers is a Royal Instructor? 'Royal Instructors are supposed to train the young royalty!' he thought in amazement.

"The cultivation arts you have been supplied have each been hand picked to complement the strengths of the individual, every one of them having been withdrawn from the royal vault directly.

"You are the eighth generation to receive such magnanimous support from the King.

"Most among you, will find yourselves being sent all across the world to serve King Magnus as the most versatile avatars of his will. You will be elite soldiers, royal guards, inter-kingdom spies, noble plants, and whatever else the crown requires of you.

"I hope that among the best of your generation, at least one will earn the title of a Blade of Demia, becoming one of the King's most fearsome weapons.

"Whatever role it is you are required to serve in nine years time, know that you do so with all the lives of the Demia kingdom riding on your shoulders. Know that by fulfilling the crown's orders, you prove that you are worthy of the King's trust and faith in you, that the skills and abilities you have trained in your ten years here were worth the effort, and that you will not falter in the face of adversity.

"And perhaps, just maybe, one among you will transcend even that. But you will learn more on that during Cultivation Hall. For now, Instructor Piers will continue here."

As Head Instructor Nicholas stepped down from the stage, Thirteen could feel his chest perked and filled with air. 'That's the most emotive the Head Instructor has ever been while giving a speech. To serve as the king's most versatile soldiers, or his most powerful weapons…' Thirteen's thoughts wandered into the territory of fantasy for a moment, before Instructor Piers woke him with a clearing of the throat.

With his signature cold and elderly sounding voice, Instructor Piers began.

"I suggest you all work hard in these years to come, if you truly believe yourself able to live up to his majesty's hopes for you.

"However without knowing the intricacies of the current world, you will never achieve such an illustrious future, so listen well.

"As you know, our kingdom is an old one. Our history stretches over a millenia, more than twice as old as that of our contemporaries. When the Toubia Dynasty became an empire, it was our Demia kingdom who bled them dry in return for their survival. When the Nalduri Dynasty requested aid to maintain their independence of the Toubia Empire, it was we overlords of the continent who drew the line between their domains.

"With a history as ancient as our own, it is to be expected that some among our nobility too possess unfathomable roots. Until recently, this was our strength, the backbone of our glorious kingdom.

"But with the saturation of qi into the world three centuries ago, much has changed. An ancient history, deep economic or political power, vast mortal armies, none of these things breed talent in cultivation. At best they can be used to disguise one's inability.

"If our world were to slowly develop our own system of cultivation, this would not yet be a problem. But alas, our methods are not our own. With the advent of qi three centuries ago, our world was visited by others, mightier than any in our known history. These… 'Outsiders', descended onto every place of power in our world offering gifts and great fortunes to every king in the land.

"To refuse meant to fall behind the other monarchs, and so, every king at the time accepted the gifts of the powerful Outsiders, learning to cultivate, to sense the laws of the cosmos, and to wield extraordinary power.

"Alas, the Outsider's meddled with more than just royalty. All around the world people of extraordinary power and knowledge began to crop up from nowhere. Every one of them exhibiting the gifts of the Outsiders.

"Our world is gradually becoming one in which a single person's might can match a small army. In such a world, individual power is just as necessary as any army in maintaining order. And yet, cultivation had no say in the ancient founding of our noble households, and so our kingdom's backbone, for the first time in history, is critically lacking.

"The only mercy in this is that no other country was an exception to the circumstance. And so, for the last three centuries, every force in the continent has been in a state of accumulation. Our own King Magnus, in his long life of 140 years has been promoting talented cultivators from the peasantry to noble status, forging ties between these figures and the kingdom.

"But where there are nobles, there must be land. And so began our southern conquest against the now allied Toubia Empire and Nalduri Dynasty. Alas, which of our ancient nobles would be content contributing forces to a war whose rewards are bequeathed to these 'new' nobles.

"And so we find ourselves in today's position. Every major faction is trying to solidify their power and control in the changing world, while every minor faction subordinate to them learns of the word Ambition.

"Cultivation Sects, run by powerful commoners bearing the gifts of the Outsiders have cropped up all over the world, while noble houses have formed clans, marrying any talented blood into their families. The royal family, on the other hand has promoted new nobles, founded the royal academies for recruiting others, and finally, has devised the Clarke Institute to train elite forces.

"This is the world you will face outside these walls. Not the commoners world of hunting and trading. It is for this reason we have spent a year teaching you the most basic framework of the world and the social classes. Not every foe you face will be a man with a sword.

"This will become increasingly apparent for you all as you learn more advanced subjects and skillskets.

"For now, I will speak on the old and new nobles, and their current actions. I want you to commit it to memory, as I will update this information every fortnight. By the time you leave this estate, you should know the methods employed by each noble house like the back of your hand."

Instructor Piers gave small breaks every now and then to allow the children to commit what they had learnt to memory and paper, but never enough time to let their minds wander or contemplate. This was his usual method of teaching. Transmit all the information first, and have them think on it during the intermission and between classes, to be quizzed and prodded on their thoughts afterwards.

And so, the class dragged on for many hours.