The Exchange Teacher - Welcome to Dyntril Academy

Basque, Taraia, and Harnel stood in line for pig-squash. It was by far the most popular food stall. They'd been lucky earlier; the line was now three times the length from before. Trying to keep the drool in his mouth at bay from the savory smoke smell, Basque took a sip of his beer.

While Basque was rescuing his students, Harnel had continued his "beer sampling" alone. Since meeting back up, Harnel polished off four and held one in each hand. Hoping the alcohol would help keep the conversation smooth, Basque brought up the topic that had made Harnel touchy earlier.

"So, titles aren't hereditary?"

Harnel wiped the foam off his lips with the back of his hand and burped. "Nope. Everything's on a kill system."

"Yeah, I figured that out when the Yani got loose in the cafeteria."

"If that wasn't the damnedest thing. I can't believe they've still not figured out how that thing got in there."

Basque cleared his throat and brought the conversation back to what he wanted to know, and away from what he didn't want known. "So, how do people get their titles then?"

After taking a gulp from his cup, Harnel said, "Register in the system, which costs 700,000 kruh."

Not having a basis, Basque asked, "Is 700,000 kruh a lot of money?"

"'Bout the wealth of three generations of commoners combined."

"I see," Basque said, acknowledging his understatement. The pig-squash line moved, and they took a step forward. Taraia grabbed onto Basque's robes. He looked down at the kiwi-haired girl with a twinge of surprise. She just stared off into the crowd, not really looking at anything.

"Yeah, but it's free for academy alums. Oh, except for Dyntril. These kids, including kiwi over there," he pointed at Taraia, "they get registered when entered.

"Anyway, after you get registered, it just gets you access to keeping track of your kills. A kill a month to stay registered. Then, certain kill amounts to rank up." Having finished the cup in his right hand, Harnel began drinking from his left.

"How many kills do you have?"

"Two-fifteen. Eighteen more and I can rank up to viscount."

"So, you need 233 kills to become a viscount?"

Harnel shook his head. "225. I forgot to say, you gotta put in an extra kill per month per rank to maintain rank. So, as a baron, I need twenty-four kills a year, or I'll fall back down to baronet. Maintenance kills don't count towards ranking up. Don't you guys in Hainbru have something like this?"

Basque shook his head. "We're a classless society."

Harnel's eyes went wide. "So you guys like, just fight Yani for fun? Wow, psychos."

Though Basque liked Harnel, being called a psycho by a Kruamian annoyed him. From Basque's point of view, Kruamians were sociopaths.

"Anyway, lots of nobles cheat the system by keeping animals and killing them when they turn, no hunting involved. Some of these brats," Harnel pointed at some of the students roaming around, "they'll graduate at near their parents' levels."

Harnel burped again. He looked at his empty cup, then at the other empty cup. "I'm out. You need another?" He looked at the two-thirds-full beer in Basque's hand. Grabbing it, Harnel chugged it, wiped his mouth off, then said, "Yeah, that'd gone warm. B-R-B."

The crowd parted for Harnel as he walked off to the beer stand. Taraia pulled on Basque's robes. He looked down at her, and she was looking up at him.

"I don't like him."

"He's a good guy. He doesn't normally drink like this."

"I'm not talking about the beer."

Seeing how drawn Taraia was to Reianna, he could see how the gregarious Harnel could rub her wrong. Basque enjoyed the outgoing man's company. "Well, listen anyway, he's telling us stuff that I don't know and is important for you to know."

"You smell like beer," she said, ignoring what Basque told her.

They stood in silence until Harnel returned a minute or two later carrying four beers. He held out the two in his left hand. "Delivery service!"

"Thanks," Basque said, eyeing the beers as he took them. He wasn't going to drink them, but Harnel probably knew that as well and was probably using Basque as a cup holder.

"Anyway, where was I?"

"The noble kids will graduate with kills around their parents' levels."

"Ah! Yes! Did I mention the keeping animals?"

Basque nodded. "You did."

"Yeah, so, the upper ones, earls and marchionesses, like Krill and Julvie, they can afford to register their kids young. Like that girl…uhh…Duke Jorellan's runt…" Harnel pointed out into the crowd, as if she were standing in front of them. He gently swayed on his feet. "Banca! Miss Banca!"

When Harnel said Banca's name, Taraia stiffened next to Basque. Her grip on his robe tightened.

"Yeah, that's the lilac. Anyway, I thinks she's got some two hundred kills already?" Harnel snorted. "Money, right?"

Money wasn't what Basque was concerned about. There was a girl the same age as his class who'd killed two hundred Yani while not a single student in his class had even seen one. Basque put his hand on Taraia's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"So, Miss Banca is already trained to hunt Yani?"

Harnel finished another beer, shook his head, and said, "She's probably had lots of training since she was little, but her kills are probably just final blows. Duke Jorellan employs lots of baronets. They'd pin it for her, and," Harnel clicked his tongue twice while making a stabbing gesture.

"How many kills are needed to be a duke?"

"I dunno. Don't matter how many, there's a limit of five dukes, so until one of them goes down, you could have a billion kills and you won't make it past Earl."

"Isn't Marquis in between?"

"Yeah, but they're limited to fifty, too."

Way back at orientation, Harnel told Basque that a lot of teachers were aiming for Julvie. Now knowing that she held a coveted, limited rank, that comment made a lot more sense to Basque.

As if thinking of her summoned her, the pink woman appeared in front of them. Taraia moved to hide behind Basque. Harnel straightened his posture and lowered his hands, shifting the cups so that they dangled from his hands. Basque didn't move.

"Ah, Yani," Harnel muttered, just loud enough for Basque to hear.

She glared hatred at them. Her pink irises bore into Basque. He had to admit, as unattractive as her personality was, her physical aspects trailed only Natt. She also knew how to dress to accentuate them.

"That attire. A teacher who walked in from the slums, and a man in a dress more elaborate than mine."

Basque stuck his arms out. The wide sleeves of his robe dangled beneath his arms. "It is an exquisite pattern. It's a family one. In fact, this used to be my father's."

"I question your mother's taste."

"Good. I'd be disappointed if her's overlapped with yours." As soon as he said it, Basque winced. He couldn't help being antagonistic with her.

She tsked at him, but with the din, he only saw her mouth move. She walked off. Harnel downed the rest of his beers and said, "I better be calling it a night."

"Thanks for the good time," Basque said.

Harnel turned to the side and pointed at him with both hands, his left hand crossing over his body. "See you tomorrow," Harnel said and walked off towards the beer stands, not the school.

"Are they gone?" Taraia asked from behind Basque.

"Yeah," he answered. She came out from behind him and stood next to him.

Looking at the two undrunk beers in his hand, Basque tapped the shoulder of the man in front of him. The fuchsia-haired man turned around and looked at Basque. Basque held the beers up, then extended them towards the man.

The man turned forward, said something to his companion, then turned back around and took the beers, giving Basque a slight nod as he accepted them.

Taraia and Basque stood in silence. People wandered by, laughing and smiling. After a short while, something Basque never expected to happen happened. The combative, surly girl took his hand and held it.

She didn't say anything, nor did she look at him. Basque did the same, mainly because he was trying to hide that he was doing his best to hold back his tears.

Soon, it was their turn to order. Basque was amazed at how quickly they had twenty-six pig-squash ready. They even provided him with containers to carry them all.

The first of the fireworks exploded as he and Taraia climbed the stairs to their floor. The girl ran the rest of the way, passing off the food to Cayelyn after taking one and shoving her way to the front of the window.

Basque walked up and handed out the food to the students. They took it and thanked him without looking at him, as their eyes were locked on the light show going on outside the windows that rattled with the explosions.

Natt took her pig-squash and stood there silently. Basque stood next to her, watching the looks of joy on his students' faces, rather than the show going on outside. Their fears and worries were long forgotten as they oohed and ahhed with the roaring display in the sky. He wanted nothing more than to have them live in this moment of joy.

Stolen novel; please report.

***

The dorm hall had an electric buzz the next morning; it was the opening round of the tournament. Even though only four of their classmates were participating, Basque could feel the nervous energy pouring out of the students roaming the hall as they went back and forth to each other's rooms.

Basque moved to stand in front of the hall door and called out, "Hallway! In Pods!" He silently counted. Every student was lined up in their pods and their preferred order before Basque got to twelve.

"Good morning, Class E."

"Good morning, Gerenet-Shr."

"Let me give you a rundown for the day. After this gathering, I've got the teachers' morning meeting. I'll get the final tournament draw then. Following that, I'll come back, and Avae, Reianna, Xav, and Ryleegh will come with me.

"The rest of you will follow Saevi to the colosseum. Our class has seats in Sections E, F, and G. While I'm at the teachers' meeting, rearrange your pods in two groups of seven and one of six. The group of six will take the seats in section F."

"Understood, Gerenet-Shr."

"I will watch our class's matches with the pod in Section F, but in between matches, I will be in the contenders' room with the four fighters. While I'm not there, do not engage with other students. I doubt anyone will try anything while I'm there, but the same rule applies even if I am there. For all intents and purposes, for you, the stadium is empty. You are the only ones there. Ignore, ignore, ignore."

"Understood, Gerenet-Shr."

"Good. Any questions before I leave?"

There were none.

"I've been told by Deputy Headmaster Krill that non-participants are required to wear the academic uniforms, so no gym clothes."

There were a few moans.

"Okay, I'll see you all in half an hour."

Heading through the main corridors and school halls, the buzz in the air continued. Servants walked lighter on their feet, the eyes of other students and their parents sparkled as they talked about the opening round, and even some non-morning-person teachers smiled as they joined Basque in the teachers' room.

Harnel was at his desk, but was fast asleep. He still smelled of booze and festival stall food, but he'd changed his clothes into more formal teaching attire.

Natt was also at her desk, but she wasn't sleeping; she was drawing something. She didn't look up at him when she sat down, but he knew she felt his presence because her face darkened. It was fine that she was still angry. He'd basically told her that her suffering was meaningless.

Still, the coldness hurt. He'd hoped last night she'd forgiven him since she didn't walk away immediately, but waited for the end of the show.

When he sat up straighter to steal a glance at her drawing, her eyes flicked up at him, then went straight back to her work. Her hand moved back and forth rapidly as she added shading to a smiling, young boy. Basque's eyes went wide. The realism of the drawing was astounding. Is there anything she isn't good at?

She moved her hands so that Basque could see the drawing better, and without looking up, she said, "This is the boy I told you about. It's been all these years, and I only knew him for a couple of months, but I can still clearly see his face."

Basque's heart fluttered with relief. She was talking to him. He had been nervous that she was still mad. "You're an excellent artist."

She crumpled up the paper and threw it in her inventory. "I don't want to see his face anymore."

Basque sat in his seat, not knowing what to say. His chest tightened as he felt her hurt, but didn't have time to dwell on it as the two headmasters entered the room.

"Good morning, teachers!" Krill began the meeting, and they all stood up.

"Good morning, Headmaster Yasher, Deputy Headmaster Krill."

"Be seated," Yasher said.

Basque rolled his eyes at how many times he was sitting and standing. That got a half smirk from Natt.

"On your desks, you'll find the bracket draw for your grades. As not all matches will go to their full allotted time, the system display at the center of the colosseum will keep everyone posted on start times.

"Entrants from the next grade level will wait in the waiting room when the previous grade level starts. In other words, as we're starting with the second-years, all second and third-years will report to the waiting rooms first. Once the second-year matches have finished, fourth-year students will report to the waiting room."

Krill paused and looked around the classroom, making sure that everyone was following.

"To limit the crowding in the waiting rooms, homeroom teachers will remain with the other students in the stands. You may not accompany the participants to the waiting room. Understood, Basque?"

Basque looked up from the draw and stared at Krill. "Understood." His grip tightened on the paper. He understood it, but he didn't like it. He felt as if it was a rule put in place to keep Basque away from the students in the most danger.

"We want to make this event proceed as smoothly as possible. So, please, all teachers abide by that rule. Tasks in the waiting room will be fulfilled by our supplement teachers.

"Only in the case of serious injuries, or, forbid it, death, should the homeroom teacher come down from the stands. We will need you to work with the parents."

Krill went on at length about exciting matches this and entertaining bouts that, but the topic of safety was barely touched upon. Krill was particularly concerned with the third-years, as the mage boy had declared he would kill his opponent in the finals.

The concern was that the other students would purposely throw their matches to lose, but Kora, the plum-colored Julvie clone and Class B homeroom teacher, assured Krill several times that the mage's proclamation had only been shared with herself and, through Aevangelina, with the rest of the teachers.

Basque clenched his fists and tried to keep calm about the fact that there was a fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy openly declaring he was going to murder someone, and the only concern was that the matches beforehand wouldn't be "entertaining enough". I hate this place.

While the other teachers prattled on about things Basque didn't want to listen to, for his own sanity, he studied the draw.

He didn't know if it was luck or something else that had his best student, Reianna, draw potentially the most dangerous opponent his class would have to face. From the files Sophia had given him, he knew Sanya was a girl with ruddy brown hair and the daughter of one of the earls.

"And that will be all. Good luck to your students, and let's have a fun tournament!" Krill raised his voice at the end, and the rest of the teachers cheered in with him.

Harnel patted Basque's shoulder. "I'll tell Eoghwin and Braxton to take it easy."

"Thanks, Harnel. I'm not too worried, though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Ryleegh and Xav are pretty capable."

"Ha! Should I tell my boys to watch out then?"

Basque shook his head. "They don't need to worry about that either. I'm afraid the matches won't be 'entertaining' though."

"We'll have to see!" Harnel slapped Basque's shoulder again and headed out.

Natt still sat in her seat, staring at Basque. He smiled back at her.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"Of course!" His heart fluttered.

She stood, and he followed suit.

"I've got to go get my class, though," he told her.

"Sure, no problem, I'll walk with you."

They headed out of the teachers' room and neither said anything until they were more or less alone. Natt's expression was flat, and she didn't look at Basque much. Basque wore a smile the entire time she was next to him.

"I wanted to apologize for getting so upset. I just couldn't accept that you weren't lying. I guess I was more scarred than just on my eye."

Basque shook his head. "It's understandable. I'm just glad you're not mad at me anymore."

"Yeah, that was silly of me. Unneeded drama. We cool?"

"As long as you are. I'm fine."

The flat expression fell off her face as if she were relieved. She smiled at him and said, "Thanks."

They walked in silence the rest of the way back to Class E's dorm hall. The students were waiting. His four fighters stood off to the side. That nervous energy was in full force, a static in the air that Basque wanted to cleanse.

"So, a change of plans," Basque said, making his voice as upbeat and cheery as possible. "Our participants will be sitting with us until the fourth-year students start their matches. Reianna and Avae, you two join Section E. Xav, join Section F, and Ryleegh, please join Section G. I'll sit with Section F, and Miss Cormick will—"

"I'm sorry, Gerenet-Shr, I've got tasks to do in the waiting room. Which you would have known about had you paid attention during the meeting."

The students laughed.

Basque smiled with them. "Yeah, yeah, so I was never the best student. I'd probably have teachers roll over in their graves if they knew I became a teacher. But as most of them are still alive, they just pointed at me and said 'you?!'"

The students laughed again. The tension had all but dissipated. It was all thanks to Natt. He looked at her and smiled. A second wave of relief washed over him. He was happy that Natt would be in the waiting room to look after the students. He could trust her. Nothing bad would happen during that time.

"Alright, let's go." Basque let Natt lead the way while he took a spot behind the class. The tournament was being held in the colosseum, a massive, oval building on the opposite side of the campus from the pastures and Tinkerer's shed. Julvie took him there on the initial tour, but he'd not had a reason to go back.

At even intervals around the colosseum, large doors welcomed streams of people. There looked to be even more people than at the festival, which angered him.

Basque wouldn't have minded it if the participants were professionals, or at least adults, but all these people were coming to watch children who had been enlisted involuntarily. He understood it was a different culture, but he didn't think he would ever understand that culture.

Sections E, F, and G were on the far side of the colosseum from the dorms. Not only that, they were up in the second section, some of the farthest seats from the arena.

"Nice view," Taraia said as she walked past Basque to get to her seat.

Basque grabbed her arm. "We're on the same row, why don't you sit next to me?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine."

The seats around them slowly filled in, but Basque could tell from the dress that they were all commoners. The fifth-year Class E teacher, Briyan, sat in Section B with the one surviving fifth-year, Railee. In Section C, Aevari, the fourth-year Class E teacher, sat with four students. Dafnea, the second-year teacher, sat with eight students. As the second-years were in the waiting rooms already, that meant there were only twelve surviving students. Half the class in a year.

Looking at the joyless faces of the higher year Class E students broke Basque's heart. He wished he could help them, but he was already stretching his directives in protecting his own class.

Down on the far side of the colosseum, close to the arena with a great view, Basque could see the uniforms of the rest of the school's students. The rest of the lower bowl was made up of their parents and other garishly dressed people who had to be other nobles.

Another group caught his attention. There was a segment of seats that held ten to fifteen people with black hair. He wondered which of his fellow countrymen had been dragged to this horrid spectacle. He hoped Rakelle hadn't been forced to come back and suffer this hellhole again.

Above the battle arena, the interface displayed floating red characters that read, "Welcome to the 627th Autumn Opening Tournament!"

Below the welcome message, the interface displayed the first two contestants' names and ages. Next to their names were parentheses that had "undecided" inside of them.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" a sharp, sensual feminine voice that Basque didn't recognize rang out. "It is my honor to welcome you all to the 627th Autumn Opening Tournament!"

The crowd roared. Down below, two small figures walked out into the center of the arena. "Introducing our first two contestants. Son of Baron Garpse, Class D Steth!" Steth raised his hand. The crowd cheered. "And his opponent, Islae McFae." Islae raised her hand, and there was a spattering of applause from the commoners around them.

"Are you ready for a fight?!"

Once more, the crowd cheered. Steth pulled out a sword and raised it into the air. The "undecided" next to his name in the hovering red scoreboard changed to "sword". Islae pulled out a bow. There was no real cheer as the "undecided" next to her name changed to "bow".

"Then, without further ado, begin!" The woman over the loudspeaker yelled.

The two students leaped into action. The commoner archer jumped to put distance between herself and the swordsman, but the introduction had put her at a disadvantage as they'd begun the match standing next to each other.

She couldn't get away from him quickly enough, and she only got one shot off before her shield was depleted. She fell to the ground, and the crowd cheered again.

"Amazing performance by Mister Steth! Let the fifteen seconds of unshielded begin!"

After being knocked down, Islae got the distance she'd wanted in the first round. She desperately tried to keep the distance between them. She fired arrow after arrow, none of which came close to hitting the boy, but they did force him to slow his approach. Basque's muscles were tense as he watched.

When the timer on the clock hit five, the crowd began to count down with it.

"Five!"

The girl was backed into a corner.

"Four!"

She blocked his first swing with her bow.

"Three!"

His return swing cut down and sliced her bow hand off at the elbow.

"Two!"

Islae fell to the ground, clutching her profusely bleeding stump.

"One!"

Steth angled his sword down to stab the collapsed girl.

An alarm sounded, and Steth's sword, only slightly stuck into her torso, shot out of Islae's body.

The crowd was a mixture of cheers and boos.

Basque turned and vomited into the aisle.