The Isekai Police [Books 1 + 2 Complete!]

Artyom felt lucky the dorm rooms had an attached bathroom. He was able to relieve himself and take a quick shower in privacy before heading out to rejoin the party for the rest of the tour.

He was apparently the first one out, leaving him alone with the headmistress.

"Hello there," she said with a friendly smile. "I suppose the others will come out soon."

Artyom simply nodded. He didn't really feel the urge to start small talk with her.

"By the way," she said, obviously not feeling the same way about him. "You mentioned something about the young boy, Rotte I think his name was, needing to switch dorms after you left. Is he not part of your party?"

"He's actually hoping to enroll here, he's pretty talented. We were just dropping him off from home."

"Oh, I see, I see! It's always wonderful to get new students. And how will he be paying his tuition?"

Artyom did a double take. "Actually, he's an orphan so he doesn't exactly have the means of paying. Is there some kind of scholarship program for students in his situation?"

"Oh my, that's terrible!" she said, tsking. "However we don't do scholarships, perhaps we could contact the matron of his orphanage? Is he from one nearby? I haven't left the academy in years so I'm not all that aware of the outside world these days."

Artyom stared at the woman and only remembered to blink after a solid minute.

"I mean… he's here with the hero. Isn't there some kind of hero scholarship exception?"

Before the headmistress could respond, the rest of the party began to rejoin the tour group.

They certainly took their time getting ready, but in doing so alieved themselves of the grime and exhaustion that came from several days on the road, and looked much better for it.

"It seems you're all ready to continue then," said the headmistress, completely ignoring her private conversation with Artyom. "Please, follow me."

"Hold on, what was that about Rotte's enrollment?" he asked. "You said something about tuition."

"What was that? Oh, we can talk about that later," she said with an easy smile that Artyom was now certain held something much more sinister behind it.

However, the rest of the group gave him odd looks and was more interested in continuing the tour.

He let out a quiet sigh and followed them. If this headmistress was playing games, he wouldn't be the only one subject to them. The others who had a bigger say with her could do more to secure Rotte's spot here than him.

The group descended the stairs once more to the second floor, which held the bulk of the academy's classrooms. Several of them had open doors, letting the party peek in from outside.

Artyom, and likely many of the others, were expecting to hear jargon-heavy magical theory, but instead were met with a professor showing the class an image enlarged with magic.

"This, class, is a common kobold. Generally considered weak on their own, they can be deadly in large groups, which they usually are found in. They have a propensity to serve stronger monsters however, namely other draconic creatures."

Everyone stuck around to listen to the speech before the professor switched to a new image, one featuring a strange looking three-legged monster.

"It warms my heart to see how much this generation is interested in education," whispered the headmistress as to not disturb the ongoing class. "But if you stay here too long, you'll miss the upcoming duel!"

"Duel?" asked Tommy loudly in reply, startling the teacher and the students. "Oh sorry, uh, let's go."

It didn't take long to walk past the classrooms on this section of the floor to reach a sprawling room. It was as large as a football stadium and lit up brightly as if by a series of flood lights. Multiple rectangular rings, each the size of half a basketball court were arranged evenly throughout, with enough room between them to allow others to easily move about or spectate.

One of the rings towards the front was currently occupied by a pair of students and surrounded by a cheering audience. The duelist closest to the entrance threw a gout of red-hot fire the other blocked with a magical barrier that looked like soapy glass. When the flames struck, they quickly dissipated, leaving a cloud of sparks at the point of impact.

They then swapped roles, the defender going on offense and vice versa.

Most of the party was enraptured by the back-and-forth between the duelists, but Artyom and Xerica both audibly scoffed.

The redhead turned to Artyom with an offended look, before going back to the fight.

"Who do you think is going to win?" asked Tommy. "I think it's the one who threw the first fireball, his looks way cooler than the other guy's."

"That's exactly why he's going to lose," replied Artyom. "All those sparks are the result of magical waste from an inefficient spell. All that magic should have been put into the flames themselves instead of the resulting fireworks show."

"Huh," said Tommy. "What do you think, Xerica?"

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"He already said why, why are you asking more people?" asked Rotte with a sneer.

"Because I also want to hear what she has to say!" replied Tommy in a near-shout.

"That same duelist with the sparks also has a larger pool of magical energy that's far from being depleted," said Xerica, ignoring the argument going on next to her. "I think he should win."

"See?" said Tommy with a confident grin. "The first guy's definitely going to win!"

Not wanting to settle it, Rotte looked at Artyom expectantly.

He didn't reply, and instead smiled and wiped at his dry forehead.

Rotte looked at him in confusion before turning back to the duel. On closer inspection, the contestant they were arguing over had plenty of sweat dripping off his brow, more so than his opponent.

The duel continued for only another minute, before one final burst of flame was thrown at the first combatant. He tried to raise another shield to block it, but found himself gasping for breath as he tried to and failing before it struck him squarely in the chest.

He fell backwards onto the arena floor before a whistle was blown and his opponent cancelled the next spell they had ready.

"Hey, what gives?!" exclaimed Tommy. "Why did he lose? He has more magic!"

"Didn't you see how tired he was getting?" asked Artyom. "Magic isn't the only thing he was inefficient with, but his own stamina too." He turned his eyes towards Xerica, who didn't bother responding.

He knew she was upset about being wrong, and he felt a bit of pleasure from it. But more importantly, he learned she could see how much magical energy someone had left but not their stamina. It was a scary ability that made it much harder to bluff how much magic he could wield. Yet she was still vulnerable to other kinds of lies.

"Quite a nice novice duel, wouldn't you think, Xerica?" asked a voice standing behind the group.

Everyone turned around to see a young man, at least in his very late teens or more likely very early twenties, looking at them all with a smile. He wore the same red robes and gray sweater underneath them as the guard did, but he filled them out much better thanks to his greater height and the sheer confidence he exuded.

"Fenn, is that really you?" asked Xerica excitedly.

"In the flesh!" he exclaimed, walking over to give her a hug.

Tommy's eyes went wide and he looked at them with a sneer before Xerica spoke up again.

"Everyone, this is Fenn, an old friend from the academy and the second strongest student here."

The hero seemed to calm down.

"I'm the strongest now that you've left and joined up with the hero!" he said with a chuckle. His voice rang with a deep basso that demanded everyone's attention. "And I've gotten even better since then. I'm the best duelist in the entire academy!"

"It's true," said the headmistress with a long sigh. "He even beat our dueling professor so badly that they're still recovering and unable to teach."

"I said I'm sorry, headmistress Sava!" he said in a half-apologetic chuckle. "He told me to come at him with everything I had, so I did. It's his fault he wasn't ready for it."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't reply.

"So," he said, turning back to the party. "I'm pretty close to graduating myself, do you think I could join up with you all when I do?"

And once more, Tommy bristled at the words.

Xerica, not having noticed, winced. "Sorry, we've reached our limit for new members, we're not taking anyone else in."

"Just as Lensa said in the catacombs," thought Artyom. "They're sick of my shit and don't want any other unexpected guests derailing whatever they're up to."

"Hold on, if you're suddenly so exclusive, why do you have a kid with you?" Fenn asked, pointing to Rotte.

"He's here to enroll, we're just dropping him off here from his home," said Artyom.

"Oh, and where might that be, actually?" asked the headmistress. "So I can send them the tuition bill."

"Wait, bill?" asked Tommy. "This is a school, isn't school free?"

Both Artyom and the headmistress turned to him with looks of pity, before glaring at each other.

The hero looked between the two before nudging Xerica.

"Actually headmistress Sava," said the redhead, stepping forward. "It was Tommy's idea to bring Rotte here so he could join. I don't think our budget will cover the standard tuition, so could you please make an exception for him? For me?"

The headmistress hesitated for a moment before giving Xerica a grandmotherly smile. "Oh, how can I say no to you? We can talk about it while filling out his application later."

"Thank you, headmistress-"

"Hey, that's great, but don't forget about me!" said Fenn, butting back into the conversation. "What about him then?" he asked, pointing at Artyom. "I can tell what everyone else's roles are in the party from what they're wearing, but what about you?"

"I'm also a mage," he replied.

"A mage, huh?" Fenn asked while raising his chin, which could have been mistakened for chiseled granite if it weren't for the light stubble. "I've never seen you attending Holdbright, are you an alum?"

"Nope, this is my first time here," Artyom replied easily.

"Then how can you call yourself a good mage? Are you self-taught?"

"Mostly, but I've got enough proper education on top of that to round everything out."

"So you're nothing more than a hedge-mage," said Fenn with a sneer, exposing pearly white teeth. "What are you doing traveling with the hero, then? I'd do a much better job in your shoes."

Artyom looked him over, took in his perfect and powerful form, and then stared him right in the eyes.

He blinked.

"You don't have the disposition."

The sheer intensity of Artyom's cold glare made Fenn take a step back. It took him a moment to regain himself, but he was still undeterred. "I challenge you to a duel, the winner gets your spot in the team."

"What? No!" exclaimed Tommy.

"What he said," added Artyom. "I've already proven myself to the team, I don't have anything to prove to you."

"Well, why not?" asked Xerica. "You might've shown your general competency, but if there's someone better, why not let them take your spot?"

Artyom looked at her with narrowed eyes and shook his head. He knew she was only saying that because she wanted him out of the party by any means. Apparently, even if it meant replacing him with this overconfident idiot, and to Tommy's chagrin no less.

The man from Earth grimaced and turned to Fenn. "Fine, I'll duel you, but I'm not gambling my spot on the team over it."

"Boo!" shouted Daisy, the blonde with twin swords currently sheathed. "If you can't beat him in a duel, you don't deserve your spot here!"

"See, this intelligent young woman gets it!" Fenn exclaimed, walking over to Daisy and trying to put his hand around her shoulder.

She stood in place and let him, albeit her left eye began to twitch.

Artyom groaned. "Whatever, let's just get this over with."