A few seconds later, Al found himself entering a large room with stained glass windows that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.
He had only nodded in response to the old man. Satisfied, he had turned around to lead them through the door and a few rooms to his study.
On the way, the tapestries and paintings of famous scenes kept drawing his attention. As an avid lover of the world of odysseys, he was up to date on all the latest happenings, so he could describe each one perfectly. The stories were all on the tip of his tongue, and he went through them all happily while he waited to find out what gift the miserly old man had deigned to give him.
The study wasn't empty when they arrived. On one side of it, a makeshift classroom was present, where three girls and two boys were attentively listening to a lady who was also masked like the one who had flown them over.
"-told you all to revise! Georgina, get up and give an overview on magic in the modern worl—oh! Mr. Westway! Give me a moment, we were just finishing up."
Seeing them enter, the lady bowed demurely and immediately began to gather up the books on a table near her. She was dressed in a purple satin gown that covered every inch of her body, and the same material had been used on the uniforms of the children.
"No, don't end early on our account. Georgina, answer the question."
The students had all snapped to rigid attention when he addressed them. The teacher had frozen, too, and on hearing his order, she turned to the little girl with blond hair who took in a deep breath and began to recite a well-rehearsed answer.
"In the modern world, magic is the art of casting Spells obtained from various sources using the Blessing, or Grace within oneself. At present, one can only become capable of using Grace by being blessed by the Gods on successfully finishing odysseys. Specifically, a God grants a mortal with the ability to hold power. The capacity of each mortal differs based on the favour of the God blessing them. Subsequent blessings increase the size of Grace that can be held by an individual. Grace is a finite, replenishable resource that can be refilled by meditation. With each round of being replenished, it has been found to increase by a small amount. Speed of refilling depends on internal factors that have not been found yet, but it has been established that some people naturally have the ability to absorb Grace faster."
'Spoken like an experienced researcher. Damn, the old man always manages to identify the perfect kids for his hero mentoring program.'
The other students clapped when the little girl was done, and with this though, Al joined in with the applause. He couldn't have put it better.
Grace was one of the most interesting topics in the world. Scores of researchers were trying their best to find new things and advance the understanding of humans, but few met success, and among them, the man in front of him was one who had blazed his name in the field in just the first month after the descent of the gods.
"Well done. Now, pack up, quickly, children. It's time for your sparring class."
They all waited silently as the teacher ushered out the kids and bowed again before leaving the study. She closed the door behind her, and after floating to it, the masked man who had brought up their rear bolted it shut.
With a chuckle, the old man walked to the large ebony table in the centre of the room and said, "I told you to practise a lot, but I didn't mean that you should keep using it 24/7. Are you floating above the toilet in the morning, too? Tone that down and practise other spells. Outside."
Eric laughed out loud, but Al kept his mouth shut.
'The years are making him more and more vulgar,' he thought, as the masked man froze for a few moments, taken aback, before bowing, too, and exiting through the same door he had bolted.
Eric got up to ensure their privacy, this time. When he was done, he grinned in Al's direction and said, "Don't mind him. He's new."
"New and expensive. I had to promise him the heavens and the earth to come under me…but it was worth it. He'll go far, that one. Well, back to you, young man. I still disapprove of this folly of going down the villain path…but you're a man grown, so I won't try to change your decision. In fact, I'm even looking forward to you stomping my son's head into the dirt if the two of you ever go against each other…at least then, his cockiness might go down a bit."
"DAD!"
"Oh, pipe down, boy. We both know that your best friend has knowledge on his side. I was the first to agree that I was wrong to judge you for…um, 'wasting' your time on those novels. Well, who could have known that this would happen? Either way, when my son was off gallivanting with big-breasted teenagers who wanted to leech away all my money, you kept your head buried in books, and I expect that it'll pay off, soon. I've never been wrong about talent. Any chance that you'll reconsider my offer?"
'Accepting an offer of yours made my family fall to a state where we had to beg for food. Why would I be so foolish to repeat the mistake?'
"I really appreciate it, Mr. Westway, but I'm set on being a villain. If your league accepts villains, someday, then I'll be the first to join!"
This wasn't the first time that he was thinking one thing and speaking another. He had perfected the art of keeping such thoughts hidden long ago, and sure enough, the old man suspected nothing.
With a sigh, he said, "Ah, it was worth a try. Eric, get over here. Reach under that second drawer. Yes, right there. Al, I can never forget how your family helped me when I was almost ruined. Later, circumstances were unfavourable to you…but no one can say that I didn't repay my debt."
'You repaid my mother's trust by buying second-hand equipment to keep her in a coma. You repaid our welcome smiles by stealing away our fortune.'
"Even now, when I received this as a gift from a close friend, you're the first person I thought about. I trust that you'll use it well. Come on! It won't bite. It was born weak, so you'll have to put it down when you grow stronger…but for now, it should be perfect for a budding villain like you."
All thoughts of the past fled his mind when a tiny sound reached his ears.
"Woof! Woof?"
Rushing forward, Al saw Eric take out a cloth wrapped bundle that seemed to be moving. As he placed it on the table, the cloth fell away…to reveal a fist-sized Siberian husky puppy with fur as black as the night.
The sight of so many people looking at it seemed to make it nervous, as it crouched down…then sneezed.
Suddenly, it seemed to fold in on itself, and a moment later…it transformed into a pitch black dagger with a handle made of fur.
While Eric and Al stared, fascinated, the old man guffawed and declared, "It needs a lot of training, but there's no mistaking its power. Go on, boy. Congrats on getting your first Armament!"