444 Opening Ceremonies (3)
“Well, that went better than expected,” Cynrik said, tilting his head to the side and up with a chuckle.
However, his response wasn’t precisely what Headmaster Rivia wanted to hear.
“What in the actual fuck is wrong with you. Vice Headmaster Cromwell’s societal position doesn’t end with his rank in the Academy. HE IS A MEMBER OF THE PARLIAMENTARY FAMILY! ROYALTY IVAR, ROYALTY, and you just assaulted, insulted, and embarrassed such a person.”
“If Yennifer hadn’t appeared to save your ass when she did, you could have been tried and put to death on the spot!” Geralt screamed at the top of his lungs, spraying spittle into the air with every word.
This was now the third time that Cynrik had heard the Royal Parliamentary Family mentioned, and although he should have felt some fear at the mention of their name, he only frowned.
The Nation of Cordairious, also known as the Country Cynrik and Brance called home, had been ruled by the Cromwell Family in one way or another for thousands of years. Beginning in a simpler time, Duke Issac Cromwell overthrew the Tyrant King of the time before coronating himself into power.
According to the history lessons back in primary school, Issac Cromwell was a just and courageous King who fought to protect his people using an unknown power level. Some texts stated he was Tier-8, while others say he was Tier-9; however, it matters little because around 800 years ago, he was killed in a brutal war that eventually saw the rise of Modern Society with the introduction of Technology.
Contrary to what one would expect when a King falls, there was no battle for the throne, mainly due to how mighty the crowned Prince was at the time.
Prince Percival Cromwell was the youngest of 12 brothers and six sisters. Still, being born with extraordinary talent, he quickly surpassed all his siblings, reached Tier-7 not long before his father’s death, and was subsequently crowned as next in line for the throne.
Under the rule of King Percival Cromwell, the small kingdom of Cordairious grew multiple times more prominent and was soon recognized as a Country. After three hundred years of wearing the crown, he stepped down and gave way to a semi-modernized version of Democracy.
Well, at least Cynrik felt it was a semi-modernized version because, at its core, the way the Country was run wasn’t far off from being a dictatorship combined with a monarchy.
The reason for this was only a member of the Cromwell Family could be sworn in as the Leader of the Parliament or President of Cordairious. Unlike the nations of Earth, where anyone could run for the position of President so long as they met the requirements, the people of Cordairious could only vote for one of the nearly 200 active political members of the Cromwell Family.
Upon winning the people’s popular vote, the new President would be given the title and power that comes with it for six years. Once the term was up, they could run a second time, but if they did succeed, that was it since the maximum duration a Cromwell could hold power was 12 years.
Unlike an ordinary law-abiding citizen of Cordairious, when Cynrik heard the name of the Vice Headmaster, he wasn’t deterred. Instead, it made him even more curious about why this man would be against a seemingly unknown student like himself.
“But did he die?” Was all Cynrik said in response to the scolding directed his way.
“As with everything I do, Headmaster, there was a reason behind my actions, and I am not obligated to fill you in on those reasons. But I will ask you, don’t you find it suspicious that the Vice Headmaster was adamant about suppressing me?”
“From the moment we located the Spies, we have discussed the possibility that there was someone high up in the ranks plotting against us, and now, yet as I and my Faction appear, someone of such prestige speaks out. I do not believe in such things being classified as a coincidence.”
“Student Ivar, your words are dangerous and borderline law-breaking. I don’t have to tell you how many different legislative bills have been passed since our Country’s formation that label what you are saying as treason.” This time it was Head Dean Rimsfel who spoke up.
“Tsk, that may be the case; however, plenty of laws protect my freedom of speech. Regardless of that fact, if it comes to light that Vice Headmaster Cromwell is actively targeting a group of first-year students, how do you think the judiciary committee would react?”
“That…” With a frown, Rimsfel backed down and stood silently, apparently lost in thought.
“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then what else is it but a duck, Headmaster Rivia? That guy stinks like old lake water. He carries none of the bearings of a member of the Parliamentary Family and even less of the physical traits.” Shrugging his shoulders, Cynrik ignored the look of dismay on Geralt’s face and tilted his head back to observe the tall stone archway.
Buzzz Buzzz Buzzz
As if mirroring Cynrik’s actions, Geralt’s Watcet rapidly began vibrating as several messages and calls came through, seemingly asking where he was.
“Ughhh, Fuck. Damn it, Ivar, keep your freaking nose clean for the rest of this damn event. I don’t want to hear about you causing mayhem.” Throwing his arms up in a mixture of anger and defeat, Geralt faced Brance and handed him a spatial device.
“Your competition uniforms are inside. Since you are the more responsible brother, I will leave it to you to distribute them to the rest of your group.” Turning to the members of MyrkLys and the oddly quiet Instructor Garrison, Geralt collected himself before continuing his statement.
“The Transport Portal is linked to the main arena in Valor City, where the competition’s opening Ceremony will be held. Remember, the moment you step through, thousands of cameras from just as many news stations and online streaming platforms will train in on you in a heartbeat. Don’t panic, but remember you represent VSFA as the Tier-3 Team.”
“Everything you do and say will be shown all over Cordairious and the surrounding Nations, so please, and I beg you, PLEASE KEEP IVAR IN CHECK!”
While Geralt was speaking, Brance swiftly distributed the new Academy uniforms to the rest of the team before stopping at Cynrik and shooting him a concerned look.
[Don’t worry, Brancie, I won’t pull anything too over the top. The worst you have to worry about is me acting a little more flashy than usual.] Cynrik said with a smirk as he took the new uniform, loaded it into an empty Loadout slot, and changed his outfit with a flick of his wrist.
Not even a full second later, the black and blue uniform was gone, and in its place was a regal golden version with red trim.
“Tsk, fucking tacky, you couldn’t just give me pitch black or even red?” Cynrik complained as he glanced toward Geralt with squinted eyes.
“Shut up and deal with it; the Tier-3 team has always worn Gold and Red. Pin your Faction badge to your chest and get the hell through the portal.” Gritting his teeth and feeling regret for enrolling Cynrik into VSFA, Geralt took a deep breath and inspected the members of MyrkLys, plus Kurza, to ensure they were all appropriately dressed.
“I know; calm down, Headmaster. Why don’t these damn things come loaded with a fucking hood.” Cynrik dismissively stated as he popped the collar of his blazer several times and stretched it into his standard Assassin-style hood, then moved on to fixing the sleeves to have fingerless gloves.
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Behind them, Gabby, Benny, Brance, and Melody all switched their uniforms in a flash of light into the new Golden variant.
Noticing everyone was done changing and had begun modifying their uniforms to their liking, Geralt waved over Rimsfel and Garrison.
“Keep an eye on them; you know how this goes; you are the Tier-3 team’s chaperones, whereas I am expected to go up and mingle with the other Headmasters.” Geralt murmured to the other two adults while keeping an eye on Cynrik, who had gotten suspiciously close to the Transport portal and appeared to be trying to read the runic inscriptions.
While their conversation was occurring, Brance stepped up beside his brother and tried reading the rainbow of colored runes.
[[Mom says if you don’t call her tonight, she is leaking your baby pictures online when we win.]] He blurted out at a loss for what to say after getting a minor headache from the runes.
[[Bah, it’s not the first time she has threatened this. I doubt she would do it since she would have by now.]] Shrugging his shoulders and realizing he could actually read a handful of the inscriptions, Cynrik stated unconcerned.
[[I don’t know, Cyn, she sounded serious this time, you have been blowing off her calls for months, and you know how much she worries. Just give her a call, she is super excited about us competing, and more importantly, she misses us.]] Taking his eyes off the Transport Portal Archway, Brance turned to look back at Gabby, who was fussing over a tuft of fur on top of Milo’s head, which was sticking up like a cowlick.
[[Don’t worry, Brancie, I will make sure Darling calls Mother-in-law tonight. It’s not fair for him to keep avoiding her like this. Suppose I were in your guys’ situation. In that case, I’d be thrilled to have a caring parent like Cinyah.]] Pinching Cynrik’s waist to assert wifely dominance, Selene poked her head into the conversation.
[[Ugh, fine, fine, I will call mom when we get to our hotel rooms. Our saving grace is that even though we will be back in Valor City, spectators aren’t allowed at the opening ceremonies.]] Rolling his eyes and ignoring the stinging pain emitted by Selene’s pinch, Cynrik finally yielded.
“MyrkLys, you are being called to make your first appearance; go through the portal now, and be on your best behavior.” Saving Cynrik from further embarrassment at the hands of Selene, Geralt spoke up after pressing ignore on the seemingly never-ending chain of calls and text messages threatening to explode his Watcet.
“Head Dean Rimsfel, you are first, followed by Instructor Garrison, and then the members of MyrkLys.” Geralt’s words activated the inactive Transport Portal, which changed from passive blue to vibrant green.
Without another word, Head Dean Rimsfel passed Cynrik, Selene, and Brance, before straightening his back, wiping any emotion off his face, and stepping through the portal.
Next was Garrison, who similarly composed himself to Rimsfel, leaving only MyrkLys, Kurza, and Geralt behind. Looking over his shoulder at Gabby, Benny, Melody, and the new hire, Cynrik nodded, causing the others to group up in two lines behind him, then…MyrkLys stepped through the portal as a single and unified team.
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