26. Gretel the Academic Underachiever

At dusk, at the entrance of Rocky School.

As school let out, the orc skeleton, adorned with crude crayon drawings by the children, walked out amidst their laughter.

Now, this two-meter-tall, broad-chested skeleton was covered in orange sun patterns, simple smiley faces drawn by unknown hands in red crayon, blue skies with white clouds and green grass, and squirrels with acorns. On the skeleton’s large right hand was a picture of a sword—the little boy who drew it believed: "If I draw a sword on the skeleton's arm, its attacks will be more powerful; it will be able to slay evil goblins and orc invaders to protect our village!"

The children had poured all their imagination into covering this righteous protector of the village with various whimsical designs.

However, not every child was so happy.

"Master Joseph, magic is so hard. Why can I never seem to learn it?"

"I still can't grasp those arcane formulas; they are simply too complicated. I just can't calculate them!"

In the classroom, where all the other children had already left, little Gret sat with his books, his face filled with gloom. Although he had been studying arcane magic under Master Joseph for several months, little Gret had yet to grasp the essence of any spell. Even now, he had made no progress on the simplest introductory module of the spell model for the most basic cantrip, "Light."

Among his classmates, several of the brighter ones had already gained some insight and were progressing smoothly. Perhaps in another two months, some of them would be able to cast their first basic cantrip! One of these clever children was Gret’s older sister, Siluka.

"Don't be anxious, little Gret," Master Joseph comforted him. "Arcane magic was never meant to be easy to learn; it is impossible to master without years of accumulated study."

"Back in my day, I had to study diligently on my own for three full years before I could cast my first cantrip. Now, you have dedicated guidance and textbooks compiled by His Majesty Elian specifically for students with zero foundation; it is already much more convenient."

"For most people, never becoming a formal mage in their entire lifetime is the norm."

Is that so?

Little Gret lowered his head. Although he was reluctant to admit it, he felt that he was likely the very sort of mediocre person the teacher described—someone destined never to become a true mage.

"Teacher, is it because my geometry and arithmetic are not good enough?"

"Although my grades in grammar and spellcasting theory are excellent, I truly cannot wrap my head around mathematics!" little Gret said, feeling quite aggrieved. "Why do we have to prove that two triangles that clearly look the same are congruent?"

"That is likely part of it," Joseph adjusted his glasses and speculated. "I have carefully observed the traits of every student and found that you are different from your sister, Siluka."

"She is quite bright and possesses strong logical abilities. She can memorize and understand arcane formulas, knows how to draw the most appropriate auxiliary lines, and can choose the most fitting way to solve a problem. She has truly integrated that knowledge."

"But your study of magical knowledge is less about understanding and more about intuition. However, arcane magic is an incredibly precise and rigorous discipline. Without a sufficient foundation in mathematics and logic, it is impossible to master."

"I see..." Little Gret hung his head, a sense of disillusionment washing over him.

"It doesn't matter; even if you can't be a mage in the future, it’s nothing to worry about," Master Joseph consoled him. "At least you have learned to read and do arithmetic, haven't you?"

Little Gret did not speak; he only bid his teacher farewell in low spirits, his heart clouded with gloom, feeling as if a heavy boulder were weighing him down.

...

Twilight deepened. The moon rose above the treetops. The night grew still.

A patch of dark clouds drifted over, obscuring the moonlight and plunging the quiet Rolling Stone Village into darkness. Under the cover of the night, Horg and the other orcs silently descended from the hillside, approaching the village.

As one of the dominant fantasy races of the land, orcs possessed not only terrifying strength and physiques far beyond those of humans but also a trait few noticed: "Darkvision." In the moonless night, their vision was far superior to that of humans.

Looking at the familiar houses of Rolling Stone Village, memories buried deep in Horg's mind surged forth once more. He remembered this village. It was the place he and over a hundred comrades had once attacked. It was just before reaching this human village that they had been ambushed by the battle mages of the floating city. He was the sole survivor, losing over a hundred comrades and his left arm in that battle.

Rage burned in Horg's chest. The orc gritted his hideous, sharp fangs, his blood nearly boiling.

"Kill! Kill every human here!" Horg roared.

"Kill!"

The orc warriors responded to Horg's call. They charged into the village with a roar! Sounds of chaos erupted in the night.

"What is happening?"

At the campfire in the village square, Master Joseph, who had not yet gone to sleep and was enjoying some wine with friends, felt his face flush with a slight tipsy glow. Hearing the chaotic noise, the middle-aged mage from the heavens felt a flicker of confusion.

"Orcs! Orcs are attacking! So many orcs!"

What? Orcs?

Joseph and his drinking companions were instantly more than half-sobered. Hadn't the orcs already been driven away by His Majesty Elian's troops? Were there still remnants left behind in the lands of Eldor?

—If the humans of this time had known the stories of later ages, they would have understood that compared to an undefeated army, the remnants of a routed force were often the most frantic nightmares an ordinary person could face.

"Aaaah! The orcs are attacking!"

"Oh no!"

Joseph's companions were terrified. They looked closely and saw, on the main road at the entrance of the village, a group of hideous orcs charging toward them.