Chapter 9: Crazy Magic Teacher
"Welcome to Ashstone, Master," chimed the servants as Vyan emerged from the magic portal and took a moment to soak in the scene.
Here he was, standing atop a mountain altar, staring at a large domain that was now apparently his to boss around.
From rags to riches, homeless to homeowner, Vyan was living the ultimate glow-up for real.
"So, all of this is mine?" he asked kind of in a daze. He still found it hard to digest that his life had taken such a one-eighty turn in the span of forty-eight hours.
"Yes, the whole grand duchy," Benedict confirmed.
Vyan nodded, suddenly feeling like a kid who just inherited a lemonade stand, except the lemonade was a grand duchy and the stand was... well, a grand duchy.
And then entered into his sight of vision was Lincoln Magnus, looking like he just stepped out of a commercial ad for a fancy suit boutique. Vyan couldn't help but wonder if the suit was worth more than all his organs combined.
"Lord Vyan," Lincoln started, with enough formality to make a royal wedding seem casual. "Welcome to your rightful place."
"Thank you, Lord Magnus." Vyan exchanged pleasantries with Lincoln, who had been keeping the grand duchy's finances on lock since dinosaurs roamed the Earth. Okay, maybe not that long, but you get the idea.
"Thanks for holding down the fort, Lord Magnus," Vyan expressed, genuinely thankful.
But then, Lincoln assured him, "I will keep holding it down until you figure out which way is up, so don't worry. Take your time," and suddenly, Vyan's Spidey senses were tingling.
Sure, Lincoln seemed loyal and all, but something smelled fishier than a seafood buffet on a hot day.
However, according to what Benedict informed him, this was the guy who managed to keep the grand duchy afloat even after the Ashstone family's demise and the Imperial family snatched their prized seaport faster than they could say 'no swiping.'
So he decided not to dwell on it at the moment and wrapped up the obligatory greetings.
After that, they embarked on their journey to the Ashstone family's main residence. Apparently, it had been as lively as a ghost town since the tragedy, with only the servants keeping the cobwebs at bay.
"Ashstone is quite the looker," Vyan remarked, taking in the picturesque cityscape.
The city was so charmingly put together, it almost made him forget he was plotting revenge against the same folks who were currently flashing him their pearly white smiles.
Sure, he was not exactly blind with rage against his family's injustice just yet. After all, he had only discovered his blue-blood lineage, like, yesterday. But that simmering desire for payback against the empire? Oh, it was there, alright. And it was ready to set the world on fire—figuratively speaking, of course. Or, was he?
He wasn't about to let bygones be bygones, especially not with the traitorous emperor—the architect of his less-than-stellar life so far. No forgiveness, no mercy. Just a good old-fashioned serving of poetic justice, coming right up.
"We have arrived," Benedict announced, snapping Vyan out of his revenge-filled daydreams.
Peering out of the carriage window, all Vyan could muster was a measly, "Wow."
As the carriage rolled up the grand driveway, flanked by ancient oak trees straight out of a fairy tale, Vyan couldn't help but feel like he was entering his own personal kingdom.
Seriously, it was like something out of a fantasy novel!
Beyond the gates? Well, let's just say the gardens were straight-up masterpiece-worthy. Meticulously trimmed hedges, flowers bursting with color—it was like Mother Nature herself had gone on a decorating spree.
And don't even get him started on the lake. Serene, shimmering waters that practically begged for a dramatic stroll along the shoreline. No doubt, this place was the epitome of luxury.
But the real showstopper? The manor itself.
Rising up like a majestic architecture against the backdrop of the landscape, it practically screamed, 'Welcome to the lap of luxury, boy.'
Stepping out of the carriage, Vyan was greeted by the servants, who probably practiced their curtsies in their spare time, yet they managed to make him cringe like before.
As he made his way to his new bedroom, he couldn't help but notice the upgrade. Seriously, this room was bigger than his entire existence up until this point.
"This is where the reigning Grand Duke resides," Benedict announced, practically bowing at the door.
"But I'm not the Grand Duke yet," Vyan pointed out, because, you know, facts.
"Because my master deserves the best treatment after everything you have been through," Benedict let out, probably with a dramatic flourish for good measure.
"Thanks, Benedict," Vyan replied, flashing him a grateful grin that said, "I could get used to this."
———
The next day dawned, and guess who decided to grace Vyan with their presence? None other than Lincoln, now accompanied by his personal bundle of joy, Clyde, who looked like he just stepped out of a neon rainbow.
"Wow, aren't you just a sight for sore eyes," Clyde gushed, eyeing Vyan like he was the last slice of cake at a party.
Vyan, on the other hand, was left feeling a little... what's the word? Oh yeah, awkward.
"Clyde, manners, please," Lincoln interjected, probably regretting every decision that led to this moment in parenting.
But did Clyde listen? Of course not.
Instead, he barrelled right in for a handshake like he was being awarded a grand prize. "Pleasure to meet you, my lord," he chirped, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Vyan, still recovering from Clyde's charm offensive, managed a weak, "Likewise."
And just when Vyan thought it couldn't get any weirder, Clyde went full fanboy mode. "Oh, my God! You aren't just a pretty face, but your mana is also off the charts! You must be like the chosen one or something!" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.
Vyan's eyes widened, equal parts impressed and bewildered. "How did you know?"
Clyde puffed out his chest like a peacock in mating season and proudly mentioned, "I am a mage myself, my lord. And not to toot my own horn, but I am kind of a big deal around here."
With a hand on Vyan's shoulder that screamed 'stranger danger,' Clyde reassured him, "Trust me, with a little practice, you will be giving every mage in the continent a run for their money."
Vyan glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back at Clyde, wondering if this guy was for real. The man, who dresses like a human highlighter and thinks he is the greatest sorcerer, was giving him this assurance? This guy was literally crazy.
"No, no, don't look at me so suspiciously. I am confident that you can be the best mage this empire has ever seen! Just let me be your teacher! I can teach you what you will learn at the magic academy in five years in just one year!"
As Clyde prattled on about magical potential and rainbow-colored dreams, Vyan couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this guy was one spell short of a full grimoire.
"Um, okay?" Vyan somewhat agreed.
"That's great! Alright, listen up, my lord, you are about to get schooled in the fine art of magic by the self-proclaimed best magic teacher in Haynes," Clyde cheered, sounding more like a carnival barker than a sage mentor.
Before Vyan could even process the offer more seriously, Lincoln swooped in like a helicopter parent on steroids. "Sorry about him, my lord. He's a bit... well, let's just say he is quite not right in the head. Can't teach an old dog new tricks, if you catch my drift."
Vyan suppressed a grin. "No worries. He's... entertaining, to say the least."
Despite Clyde's scatterbrained antics, Vyan found himself warming up to the guy.
Sure, he was about as subtle as a fireball to the face, but there was something strangely endearing about his chaotic energy.
Clyde practically beamed at Vyan's response. "See, Father? I'm the human embodiment of charm. No one can resist the Clyde magic."
Lincoln sighed, looking like he was contemplating retirement.
And then, like a whirlwind of chaos, Clyde grabbed Vyan's wrist and bolted off.
"Touching nobility that carelessly can get you executed—" ignoring Lincoln's frantic protests like they were background noise at a crowded tavern, they whisked away.
"Where are we going?" Vyan asked, trying to keep up with Clyde's breakneck pace.
"To the garden, my pupil!" Clyde exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious.
Once they reached the garden, Clyde wasted no time in getting down to business.
"Alright, my lord, let's see what kind of magical mojo you have got hiding up your sleeve."
Vyan raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even unlocked my magical potential yet."
Clyde waved off his concerns like they were pesky gnats. "Details, my dear lord, details. You dive in and let me see what we are working with. Close your eyes and channel that inner spark."
"What inner spark?" he asked, totally clueless.
Clyde slapped his forehead dramatically and explained, "Okay, get this. There are mana circuits within you. Just concentrate and try to trace the lines of that circuit, and when you do, focus the flow of the circuit towards the center of your palm."
With a resigned sigh, Vyan shut his eyes. But as he focused on Clyde's instructions, all he could feel was... well, nothing. Nada. Zilch.
"I don't sense any circuits inside," Vyan muttered, feeling a bit like he was playing a game of magical hide-and-seek with himself.
Clyde clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Come on, focus! Tune out the noise and tap into that inner mana powerhouse of yours."
Following Clyde's guidance once again, Vyan took a deep breath and tried again, this time with a bit more patience and less impending sense of doom.
And lo and behold, he started to feel something—lines of energy coursing through his body like some kind of mystical power grid. With a newfound sense of confidence, Vyan directed his focus to the center of his palm, channeling the energy like a pro... or so he thought.
Before he knew it, screams erupted around them, and Vyan's eyes snapped open to chaos.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!" the maids shrieked, probably cursing him as they thought about picking a different employer.
"What did I do?" Vyan's eyes were wide as he surveyed the scene—a once pristine garden now ablaze like a bonfire at a beach party.
Clyde, ever the proud mentor, could not contain his smirk. "Looks like someone's got a flair for the dramatics. You just turned this garden into the hottest spot in town. Literally."
Vyan's jaw dropped. "I did this?"
Clyde nodded excitedly, looking like he was the one who earned the achievement. "Yes! You, my lord, have officially joined the ranks of garden arsonists. Congratulations!"
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone