A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 426 Retribution - Part 1

"Gargon again?" Oliver said with a frown. "That spindly bastard's name is everywhere."

Verdant winced at that. "That is something else that you will need to fix... You cannot continue to have the whole student body hating you. There cannot be a repeat of today's events with Heathclaw. Not only is it liable to get you kicked out of the Academy, but you'll also stain Lord Blackwell's name. He's already under enough pressure from the King after taking you in as he has.

Today's events will soon be news to all, and Blackwell will suffer for it. Take note, Young Wolf, these Academy walls may seem solid, and closed, but the eyes of the whole country still pierce it.

News of Dominus Patrick's son is of interest to all, even if they do not believe his ascension to the Sixth Boundary, he was still – in their eyes – the second strongest swordsman the Stormfront has ever seen. Act in accordance with that knowledge."

"You've opened my eyes, priest Verdant," Oliver said with a nod of appreciation, holding out his hand. "It would be good to have your advice, should I need it."

Verdant shook his hand strongly, a small smile on his lips. "If you are who I think you are, then the honour is all mine."

An hour after his meeting with Verdant, Oliver was stood – freshly bandaged, and with a clean shirt on from his room – in a hall that was much too large for its purpose.

He'd had to walk down it, passing each pillar, as they bore torches of flickering light, with each step echoing uncomfortably in the otherwise silent space, only to reach a platform of a mere five chairs.

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"You will address me as General Tevar on Academy grounds, Oliver Patrick. Your father had a reputation for being loose with regulations. I do not expect the same from you," General Tavar said firmly, his looks thunderous. He was a large man, but the presence that rolled off him was even larger.

He was most assuredly a man of the Fourth Boundary, at least, but his presence bespoke of something far beyond that. Oliver thought it be the blessings of command that Blackwell had spoken of, back at Lombard's mansion.

"My apologies, General Tevar," Oliver said quickly, with another bow of his head. He'd made sure not to wear his sword to the meeting, after Verdant had rather urgently advised him to leave it behind, stating that it would only bring further offence.

"To answer your question, I am the only General of military rank that oversees these proceedings. My associates here might not bear the same title, but you are to treat them with similar respect, for they are the Generals of their fields. Within the walls of the Academy, you will address them as Minister.

We have the Minister of Blades, the Minister of Coin, the Minister of Information and the Minister of Logic. Now, onward with the proceedings—"

"Oh, come on Marcus. At least point out to the boy which is which. He clearly doesn't have the first clue who we are," the man with the more casual appearance said. He was the most youthful out of all the ministers, and he sat in the seat of Stone.

"The boy should have such knowledge long in advance of his entry into the Academy," a stern old man said in reply. Unlike General Tevar, this man looked his age. His beard was long and grey, and his hair was of the same shade and length, only much thinner. He seemed frail within his scholarly robes. "Our purpose here is to discipline him, not correct his ignorance."