Chương 216: Chapter 237: Eager Igor

I was still in Professor Ryichsur's natural philosophy class because I had already been enrolled in the best that the school had. And much like the math classes, I was the only one left from last year, now I was the lone holdout among a brand new swath of the students only one year ahead of me. The very brightest of the third-years, and the lone second-year whose work set the foundation for the studies in this class. And I was already bored stiff.

I know that I don't take a lot of time to relax myself, and I'm probably in need of a lot more mental recuperation than I allow myself. But even after two weeks of running myself as ragged as I possibly could, I am sitting in my desk listening to his syllabus lecture and rubric speeches, and I am finding myself getting antsy to do something. Sometimes, the stress of sitting around is as exhausting as the effort of action. So I've got a notebook open and I've got my pencil moving fast.

I'm not taking notes the way the others are taking notes. Ryichsur lectures from the front and rather than rocking back and dozing like usual, I'm scritch-scratching out notes for him. What sections to tighten up, what he's going to need to elaborate, bad turns of phrase. And also critiquing the syllabus itself: he had rushed over chemistry way too much, as if the entirety of the periodic table is something to whip through in six weeks.

It's only been eight years since I first released articles disproving the existence of phlogiston, none of these students understood atoms or molecules before they were nine or ten years old, and they had to unlearn the fluid models before they could learn about discrete particles. They are not ready to absorb everything I can remember about molarity and nuclear weight in just six weeks.

That needs to be a bigger focus for the class, and honestly we don't need quite so much of the semester devoted to weather patterns. Fuck's sake, unless we get rid of all the wizards (and I'm not saying no) then we'll never see a naturally-occurring weather system in this kingdom anyway. All the magisters and wizards have worked out all the math and formulas they need to control the weather to a dangerous degree.

There's no real point in the real scientists knowing what conditions cause cirrus or cumulus clouds to form. It does not matter what direction the jet streams travel, I just included that in some articles to establish my bona fides because I was nine years old and I needed to be considered a serious source of information. If any of our high-speed high-intellect science students are really concerned with the ins and outs of weather they can take an elective course in wizardry for all I care.

Our science students need to understand that covalent bonding and ionic bonding are different things. God, just imagine if the goddess had gotten a high school earth sciences teacher instead of me. I'm working with half-remembered facts that I've cobbled closely enough together that people who are actually smart and creative can take my stuff and fill in the blanks.

"Given this fact and that fact, it stands that a test performed in this way should have these results!" and then just like that some guy whose dad was an illiterate paint-chip taste-tester can fill out half the periodic table based on my scratchings.

A huge part of my reputation for genius comes from articles where i confidently state the facts that I do know, and then someone who is actually smart will come through and say "well, I went ahead and crossed the t's and dotted the i's, and it looks like this assertion holds up under rigorous testing!" and they've gone and done ten times as much work and did it in a way that never would have occurred to me. Those are the intellects I want to hone and train, and more importantly collect to myself.

I need to start building a workshop, a laboratory, a house of innovation. I need to work with Ryichsur and Corder to get the best and brightest funneled into the Developing Theories classes so I can start poaching them at graduation and hiring them for my future projects. After all, despite the bad example that I'm setting, collaboration is key. In science, you will sometimes have one person working on their own who develops something amazing. Electrical principles, optics, new understandings in astronomy. Sure.

But applied sciences are not research sciences. And I want a big Edison-style invention factory, putting out new machines and developments and medications and tools. I just need to get the timing right. After all, it would not do to find myself competing against the Hearstcliff Academy brand, which is currently the top name in new product development across the kingdom. These plans are developing in my head while I jot my own notes.

If I'm looking to hire these folks next year, I want to have as much say as possible into their education between now and then. I caught Professor Ryichsur glancing my way, during the dips in his lecture. He was giving his first-day speech, and it was definitely going smoother than last year's debacle. But he knew me well enough that when I start doing something unexpected and unexplained, it means I've got a new plan in my head and I'm about to get real stubborn and assertive about it.

Well, maybe he won't have a problem with it. His last TA graduated, and I know he hasn't brought on a new one. Maybe I just designate myself his new TA. And from there, start molding his class instruction. Won't be hard, he's not the only one that keeps cheating glances my way. The other students here are constantly sneaking a stare my way- even if we haven't started this year with a big disastrous scene putting me on the spot, everyone here knows me.

You can't get into Natural Philosophy Ⅲ without knowing my early foundational work inside and out. It might be time for me to develop a cult of personality here in the science department. Pieces slotting in. TA. Co-professor. Celebrity of science. Beef up the Developing electives. Build a workshop. Ruin Dean Corder. Become the new titan of industry. Profit. I glanced across at the other students with a broad heartfelt smile on my face. Several of them smiled back.

Plans clicking into place, I'm starting to get a really good feeling about this upcoming year. Now that I've got proof that the changes I make are making a difference, I'm feeling a lot more bold. This is pivotal. Those stupid new rules in this school is weirdly the best news I could have gotten. I don't feel like I just spent two weeks burning all my candles at both ends, only taking breaks to go to church. I feel energized and ready.

But maybe I should be a little concerned that pretty much every plan I have all starts to have the same shape to them. I wanted to help the Professor fix his teaching methods, and I somehow decided my endpoint is Queen of Science!, which is a recurring theme for me. Maybe this is why I got the Rival tag, I just take things too far. More likely it's just that once you know your eventual goal is "take over the kingdom and run it the right way", everything else just becomes a means to that end, a step on that path.

You can't have a goal that huge and not have it become a bit of an obsession. I glanced down at my notebook, and the neat flow-chart that led from TA to industrial warlord. When I crossed the last 't', a notification floated in front of my eyes. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. [Quest Checkpoint Complete: Eager Igor. 20 XP. Advancement: The Madman] And this time I just could not be as surprised as I should be.

Second year, the XP rewards get a lot more substantial. But I can already tell that I'm gonna have to earn that payout. I went back to my notes, this was going to need a lot of planning. I sat down next to Rabert Frantlin in our history class, and started the Scryer's Gyre spinning. The brass coin whirled, and after a few seconds went silent, reaching equilibrium. Rabert glanced at it, nodded.

"Still making sure Nathan behaves?"

"I am," I said, and set down a bookbag. I was going to at least show willing that I'm not flaunting the new anti-sorcery rules too flagrantly. So, carrying books instead of just reaching into portals.

"How many times have you busted him plotting against you?"

"Not a single one," I said.

"Which makes me ever more certain that somehow he's got a device that counteracts my spinning coin. After all, nothing makes more sense than a spy that has some countermeasures against magical methods of information-gathering. He knows magic is my first answer to every problem, after all. He'd be daft not to have taken that into account."

The alternative is that he has either not been plotting or acting against me at all during any of the times I've spun the coin these past weeks, or that he's got some method for telling when I have and can tell when it's safe to sabotage me. The first of those is obviously impossible for many many self-evident reasons.

The second alternative is scarier, that he's deliberately trying to cultivate a false sense of security in me and has been manipulating my scrying coin's abilities to make me feel like I'm safe from his machinations. No, clearly there's something that keeps me from getting a clear signal. Maybe a particularly strong enchanted item that cancels the coin. Maybe he's picked my pockets at some point and replaced the Scryer's Gyre for another brass coin that just spins forever.

Maybe he's figured out some rules-lawyering legal-weasel bullshit that keeps his scheming from registering at all. Like maybe he's got some magic contract that states that since his various schemes could benefit me, none of them count as plotting against me until there's harm done that I can't undo. Right now I just presume that if I can imagine it, that's not what it is. He's going to have something sneakier than I ever would have figured out on my own. Rabert looked at the spinning coin.

"If you ever want to sell that, I think I know someone that would give you a dozen cities and the armies to protect them."

"Someone that probably already has a plan to take them all right back from me as soon as the coin is out of my hands," I chuckled, leaning back in my seat. I propped one arm on the chair back and crossed my ankles. He tapped the side of his nose.

"You're more fun now that you're smarter. So, this year is going to be big for you, isn't it?" He said that last bit with a bit of a tone, slipping into his 'we are talking but we are not talking about what we are talking about' patter.

"In what way?" I asked. Let's volley this back.

"Well, you spent all this past year preparing, and now it is time to act," he pointed out.

"Must be exciting."

"Ah, I can understand why you'd think that," I said, and allowed myself a small knowing smirk.

"But as it turns out, this year is again going to be preparation for something larger in turn."

"Naturally," he said, nodding.

"Everything is preparation for what comes next." He thinks that I'm campaigning to be the leader of the Rapier Revolt because I want that power. He thinks that my goal here is to win that fight. To him, being in charge of this is its own reward. He sees the current drive towards this overthrow as being a self-contained event. That the Berry Blight created a circumstance that they are going to take advantage of and profit from.

In fact I'm campaigning to run the Revolt so that I'll have authority to run emergency rescue during the Upheaval and military strategy during the War of the Blind. The Blight creates the conditions for the Revolt, which influences the Upheaval, and so forth. No self-contained events. So it's funny to me because even though he is saying all the right things I know he's way off. Everything is preparation for what comes next.

He thinks that fighting for power is a prelude to having that power, or fighting to keep that power.

"Some tasks take more strenuous preparation than others," I pointed out.

"True," he said, watching me carefully.

"Often the most important tasks."

"The most rewarding," I supplied.

"Indeed," he answered. This time he was struggling to read me and see where I'm going with this. Turnabout! Whether it's fair play or not, it's fun for sure.

"It's about goals," I added.

"The bigger the goals, the more effort you have to put in first."

"Lots of people have put in plenty of effort and consideration already," he pointed out.

"That's just to get in the door," I waved it off.

"There's more future than you expect."

"Really?" he said, musing.

"Well, I look forward to seeing a lot more of it." I nodded, and dropped out of Secrets Symposium mode.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask," I said.

"Frantlin? That's not even a minor house. But you seem really involved in top-level Nhullit affairs. At first it didn't seem that odd to me, but the more I learn the more your situation really seems to stand out as unique."

"Not that unique," he deferred, looking out across the classroom. We had a different teacher and different classmates. Strictly speaking this is all randomized and it is pure coincidence that Rabert and I wound up in the same sixth-bell history class. Except that as a designated love interest, we have to have our time slot together every day. And we all just ignore anything that might challenge that suspension of disbelief. But like before, neither of us gave a shit about this class.

He was going to blackmail his way to an A, and I cannot help making the best grades in the class. He looked around at all the students who were taking notes and memorizing information. That's not our game here.

"The House rewards merit more than anything, if you prove yourself valuable and competent enough then you're in, whether or not you've got the family connections. Families like Ebonder and Grennick, if someone proves powerful or intelligent enough they'll be prioritized to marry into the family to get a title and bring their talents to the family and the House. Nhullit will actually offer someone a noble title and the right to change their name to Nhullit if they're not interested in marrying in.

Or you could even be legally adopted by the nearest earl to get an official name. My family is actually very very tight with the House, but I don't have the name because of nothing more than an amusing coincidence of patrilineal naming conventions. My mother's maiden name is Nhullit, and my paternal grandmother, and her mother-in-law, back like six generations. I'm about as inside as anyone can be, but until these dang Frantlins start having some daughters, the name just won't go away.

At this point my relatives are refusing to change it just out of stubborn spite, I think." He seemed genuinely amused by this. I've seen the wry and ironic curl of his lip before, that dry and unimpressed 'oh how droll' reaction, but this is actually a glimpse into his real laugh and his real sense of humor. And his family refusing to change their name just out of pride for its own sake seemed to really amuse him. It's certainly the least hurtful and vindictive application of Nhullit pride I've ever heard of.

"So, despite not having the name, you're actually bundled tight into the aristocracy?"

"Oh, quite. We'll have to see which of my relatives are alive when it's time for my formal naming at eighteen, but I could wind up inheriting any of several viscount positions, counties, or even an earldom if I get 'lucky'. The succession can be tricky to work out, and I'm not fussed about trying to figure out exactly where it lands. My preference would be to wind up the fraternal heir of a count.

Free to do whatever I want, no actual obligations, regular stipend, invited to all the good events, free to travel if I like, marry whomever, and still important enough that everyone wants to curry favor and get my opinions. Also, very low priority target of assassins. The perfect sweet spot."

"Your family is very weird."

"Your father is acting in open rebellion against the crown, who he is second cousins to by marriage. Your duchy is practically in a fighting war against the crown's irregulars. You still get honors as a princess and do whatever the hell you want. Everyone has a weird family, Lady Natalie."