A Gaze That Discerns
1857 Words
“Young mistress!” he called, kneeling beside Zara.
“Uncle Harmon? Why are you here?” she blinked in surprise.
It was Harmon Yorn, her family's loyal steward, summoned by the two girls who had accompanied her earlier. After dropping Zara off at the academy, he was about to leave when they rushed to him in a panic.
They told him Zara was about to pledge herself to a failure, someone who had scored zero on the Teacher Exam, and worse, that this man had forced her to scrub floors and clean toilets.
Hearing that, Harmon had nearly lost his mind.
The City Lord’s beloved daughter was ordered to clean latrines like a servant? If the man had been a renowned instructor, perhaps he could have let it go, but this?
This was Jack Reed. The disgrace of the faculty. The man whose last student had gone mad.
No. This could not stand.
“Young mistress, are you…” Harmon’s gaze locked on Jack with thinly veiled contempt.
“I’ve already accepted Mr. Reed as my teacher,” Zara said firmly.
Harmon’s eyes narrowed. He stepped forward, gently placing her behind him. He glared daggers at Jack. “Withdraw my lady from your tutelage this instant and apologize. If not, I’ll make sure the entire faculty hears how you manipulated an underage noble girl into following you!”
Jack blinked. “Manipulated? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
To any outsider, those words would sound damning. They’d imagine he had done something vile. But all he’d done was accept a student. A student, by the way, who came to him of her own accord.
“Don’t play innocent,” Harmon growled. “My lady is a prodigy. You are unfit to teach her. If you withdraw now, I’ll let this pass. If not... I’ll bring this to the headmaster and see you dismissed.”
Before Jack could respond, Zara interjected.
“Uncle Harmon! Stop this. I chose him myself. Why are you interfering?”
Harmon turned, stunned. “You... chose him?”
“Of my own will,” she nodded.
His jaw tightened. “You really think he can guide your cultivation? Help your strength grow?”
Zara shook her head. “He hasn’t guided my training yet. But... he discovered something about my body that no one else ever could.”
Harmon frowned. “Discovered what?”
“That’s none of your business!” Zara snapped, her face flushed with embarrassment.
Harmon was baffled.
He glanced around, noticed the remains of a shattered Record Crystal on the floor, and his eyes went cold.
He recorded her?
“You bastard!” Harmon’s aura exploded outward, filling the room with pressure.
“I’ll kill you right now if you laid a hand on her….”
Boom!
The floor creaked beneath his feet, the air thick with threat as his cultivation surged.
"What did I do?"
Seeing the other man seethe with rage, Jack was speechless.
Wasn’t this misunderstanding spiraling out of control?
Still, he could somewhat understand. Without any cultivation guidance, he'd convinced the young lady to acknowledge him as her teacher. She even blushed while talking to him, and on top of that, the Record Crystal had been destroyed. It all screamed cover-up.
Now he was being mentally branded a creep, a fraud, and every sort of degenerate under the sun.
"Uncle Harmon, what are you thinking? If you keep this up, I won’t ever speak to you again!"
Zara Vale’s face darkened as she shouted at her family steward.
As a young woman, this kind of accusation could ruin her name.
"Young mistress..."
Stopped cold by her words, Harmon Yorn retracted his aura.
"Alright, come help me get my supplies. I have class tomorrow," Zara huffed and left the room.
She didn’t want to explain her condition; if she did, Harmon would force the issue. Instead, she had to act like she willingly chose Jack.
"Hmph!"
Watching her leave, Harmon shot one last threatening look at Jack, then turned and followed.
Jack sighed.
"Who did I offend this time?"
All I did was accept a student... did that really warrant death glares?
He looked like he’d just robbed the City Lord’s vault.
"Forget it. There’s still time left in the day. Let’s see if I can recruit a few more. The more students under me, the more resources I’ll earn."
At Astoria Academy, teachers were ranked based on their students’ progress, numbers, and performance in challenges. A better rank meant better resources for both teacher and student.
That was how teachers and students rose together.
Right now, he had only four students. Enough to hold his position, but not enough to climb. He was still ranked dead last.
He needed more.
"Don’t feel so down, Zane. Just because Professor Cron rejected you doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world."
Two boys walked through the academy’s open-air corridors. The older-looking one tried to comfort the other.
"Easy for you to say, Milo. You got accepted. Try getting rejected and then talk to me," Zane muttered.
"Still, there are plenty of good teachers here. It doesn’t have to be Cron."
Milo rubbed his head, a bit embarrassed.
"You don’t get it. We’ve both trained in spearwork since we could walk. It’s part of us now. Cron is the best spear instructor at Astoria. You got in. I didn’t. How do you think I feel?"
Zane clenched his fists.
"Right..." Milo didn’t know what to say.
At Astoria, teachers specialized in different disciplines: sword, spear, fist, archery. Cron was top-tier in the way of the spear. They had both hoped to learn from him. One passed. One didn’t.
"Hey, look. There’s a classroom. Let’s check it out."
Trying to shift the mood, Milo pointed ahead.
"I’m not interested," Zane frowned.
"Come on. What if this one also teaches spearwork? What’s the harm in trying?"
Zane hesitated, then nodded.
Inside, Jack was about to leave when the two boys walked in.
"Good day, sir!" Milo greeted.
"Mm? Are you looking for a teacher?" Jack asked.
"Yes, sir. This is my friend, Zane. He’s incredibly skilled with a spear. We’re hoping you could guide him."
Zane tugged Milo’s sleeve.
"What?" Milo asked.
"Look around."
Zane frowned. The classroom was small. Barely enough room for ten students. Top-ranked teachers had massive training halls. This place felt more like a storage room.
"Yeah, it’s... tight," Milo admitted, now uncertain.
He’d only wanted to lift Zane’s mood. But maybe this wasn’t the place to do it.
"Show me your spear form," Jack said casually, unfazed.
"Well, we’re here. Might as well get some feedback," Milo whispered.
Zane hesitated, then nodded.
Unless it was a top-tier instructor, students were allowed to evaluate a teacher’s ability before accepting them.
Zane slung his spear off his back and assembled it with swift, practiced movements.
Weng!
As the shaft locked in place, Zane’s aura shifted. Focused. Dangerous. Sharp as the tip of his weapon.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
He struck out, sonic booms echoing through the cramped room. Wind whipped from every thrust.
Though not the strongest fighter, his spear technique was advanced. His control and precision were top-notch.
Bang!
The spear’s tip smashed into the strength-testing pillar in the corner. Numbers flickered on its surface.
"110."
Impressive.
A full-powered blow from a peak Tier-One Initiate. Not many could tank that hit head-on.
"Teacher, your feedback, please."
Zane stepped back and stood tall, spear at his side.
Despite his doubts about the small classroom, he waited calmly.
Jack seemed lost in thought.
Then he opened his eyes and looked at Zane with an odd glint.
"Heartbroken, huh? Someone dumped you?
hmm?"
Zane's face froze for a moment before flushing red with embarrassment.
"I once had a crush on a girl... She mocked me in front of everyone. But what does that have to do with your guidance, teacher?"
He had buried that moment deep. No one else, not even his best friend Milo, knew. Yet this teacher unraveled it instantly. How?
"Seriously? Zane, you were humiliated like that? Who was it?" Milo asked, eyes wide.
"I’ll tell you later!" Zane snapped. Then he turned to the man before them. "Teacher, I don’t know how you knew that, but I don't see what my personal life has to do with my spear technique."
"No connection?" Jack Reed shook his head. "It's directly related."
"Related... how?" Zane was doubtful.
"Your spear strikes are sharp and bold just like your personality. You used to be fearless, charging forward without hesitation. But after that experience, doubt took root. You fear rejection. You second-guess. That hesitation… it weakens every strike."
"You… you got all that just by watching me?" Zane asked in disbelief.
Everything Jack said was true. Zane’s fear of humiliation had left a shadow over everything, even his training. Yet no one had ever pointed it out so clearly. Not even the academy’s top spear instructor, Master Cron.
Jack’s insight felt surgical. Not just technical… but personal.
"The spear reflects the heart," Jack continued, folding his arms behind his back. "Your technique is precise, yes, but it’s clouded. And only a wound like that, a betrayal of trust, of affection, could leave a scar so deep."
Milo and Zane exchanged stunned looks. This man… wasn’t just reading posture and form. He was reading them.
"I… Teacher, would you look at me too?" Milo stepped forward, unable to resist. Without waiting for an answer, he launched into his routine.
He was clearly more polished than Zane. Stronger, faster, smoother.
Once finished, Milo stood tall, like a blade being sheathed.
"You have a weak stomach. Judging by your stance, you had a bout of diarrhea today."
"Wha….?!" Milo jolted. "How could you tell?!"
Jack remained calm. "Just a glance."
Milo nearly dropped his spear. Zane’s heartbreak? Sure, that was dramatic. But identifying digestive issues from a spear form? That was downright mystical.
"You want guidance? Then become my disciple."
Without hesitation, Zane dropped to one knee. "Zane Hawthorne is willing to be your student!"
He was in awe.
Such insight, he’d never experienced anything like it. Jack hadn’t even begun formal instruction, and yet he’d already helped him more than any teacher he’d known.
"Good." Jack tossed a thin silver token his way. "Drip blood to form the bond."
Zane did so immediately, and the bond was sealed.
"Now that you're my student, here's your first lesson: If you want to be respected by anyone, you need strength. Without it, you'll always be seen as lesser. So don’t dwell on the pain. Channel it. Become so strong they’ll regret ever mocking you."
He paused, smiling faintly.
"As they say: ‘The river flows backward after thirty years, never underestimate the fire in the poor.’"
Zane trembled. His eyes burned.
He had never heard those words before, but they struck something deep. A clarity took over. His doubts about the weight he had carried lifted.
"Try again."
Zane didn’t speak. He simply gripped his spear and moved.
The change was immediate.
Each strike was clean. No hesitation. No lingering doubt.
BOOM!
- Writer
