Do ratmen dream of the sacred tree of spirits?

Chapter 54 Improvement

Fafner first took a piece of cardboard from the envelope:

Appointment Letter

Second-level assistant priest,

Fafner Beckett

Gentlemen ushered by Lorraine Grammar School

调任

Ryan City East District School for the Poor

serve as a teacher

Church of the God of Death in Lorraine

Bishop: Zero Andrei

"That's fine," Fafnir thought. "A change of environment won't hurt. Next semester will be my third and fifth year at grammar school. Anyway, I've already covered most of the courses offered, so many are a piece of cake for me."

This transfer not only avoids the limelight but also allows him to do some practical things for Mr. Victor.

Teaching in basic education shouldn't be difficult.

Fafner then took ten silver shields from the envelope; clearly, this was his stipend for the semester.

Thanks to the Church of the God of Death, my parents will be happy for days to come when they find out they got paid! They'll even cook a big meal to celebrate.

Then, Fafnir took the last item out of the envelope.

—A few scattered pieces of spirit amber,

Mr. Victor trusted me, and I was able to handle the "spiritual gap" even without Mr. Victor's care.

After Fafnir finished collecting the items, he entered a meditative state and brought up his "ledger."

Several items in the "ledger" have changed compared to the past:

"...

"Gap Fill (0.23/100)"

……

Owner: Viktor Zaitsev

Fireball (Tier 2) (32/100)

Filling the 'Spiritual Gap' Guiding Spell (Second Tier) (26/100)

……

Total spiritual amount: 31 (standard spiritual units)

... "

Advancing to the rank of Enlightened One is a long and arduous journey; the spiritual rift filling value in the "ledger" is only 0.23.

Of course, Fafnir knew that reaching 100% progress was impossible; he should be able to attempt to build a spiritual cycle and advance to the Enlightened One level once he reached a certain value.

During this month-long vacation, Fafnir will go home every few days, but will spend most of his time at school.

Every Sunday, Fafnir would go home to reunite with his parents.

Every Sunday, Clint and Elisa also have a day off, allowing Fafnir to spend quality time with them, chat with them, or take walks around the estate.

Fafnir also spent a few days practicing magic in the gardens of Lorraine Castle at Joël's invitation.

Of course, he declined Joël's subsequent invitation.

He felt it wasn't right to keep bothering her; he hadn't helped Joël in any way, and she always gave him lots of food.

On one occasion, Joël even had the kitchen send him a whole roast goose, which Fafnir was too embarrassed to accept, even though Joël insisted that it was a matter of aristocratic etiquette.

Fafner had no choice but to make an excuse, saying that he and his parents couldn't finish it, and the weather was too hot to preserve it properly.

Hmm... it shouldn't be considered a violation of the commandment of integrity, Fafnir thought, but accepting valuable gifts without a valid reason is even less appropriate.

In the end, he had no choice but to accept another, slightly more ordinary meal.

During the rest of the holiday, Fafnir stayed at school to practice his magic diligently.

He now feels an urgent need to improve himself and must work hard for himself, his family, and for the uncertain future.

……

The prayer bell rang at six in the morning, and Fafnir had already finished washing up.

He plans to fill in another small gap in the spiritual space today.

It's been a week since the last boost, and both Fireball and Insight have returned to normal levels.

He had three fragments of spirit amber in his pocket.

Fafner checked everything, closed the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He first entered meditation, activated his spiritual vision, and stared at the spiritual gaps within his body.

Fafner wanted to choose a small opening in his left ankle, hidden between the bone and tendon.

Under the power of his spiritual vision, a black hole was quietly embedded in his left leg.

However, Fafner hesitated for a moment.

I always feel that the ankle area is a bit difficult to work with; the spiritual energy travels a rather long distance from top to bottom, and the location is also quite hidden.

After thinking for a moment, he changed to another spiritual gap, on the inside of his left forearm, near the elbow joint. This gap was only the size of a fingernail.

Fafnir gripped the fragment of amber tightly and entered a meditative state.

The guiding incantation to fill the spiritual gap unfolded in his consciousness, revealing a complex magical structure that was far more skillful than before.

Fafnir sensed the amber heating up; a high concentration of spiritual energy was being drawn out by a guiding spell, flowing through his arm and filling the spiritual crevice.

The pain came quickly, like being pricked by fine needles, though the needles were blunt and didn't draw blood.

But it really hurts. Although Fafnir had experienced it a few times, he still found it somewhat torturous.

Fafnir gritted his teeth, staring at the tiny black dot in his spiritual vision, which was shrinking little by little.

Its edges change from pure black to dark gray, and then to a light gray similar to spiritual radiance, a process that takes about half an hour.

He exited the meditation, moved his left hand, and found that his arm could move, but it was very stiff.

It's alright... I don't feel as bad as before.

……

During the last few days of his vacation, Fafnir visited a poor neighborhood in the East End.

He wanted to find out where the school was beforehand, so he wouldn't get lost on the first day of school.

The closer to the city gates in Ryan's eastern district, the more impoverished the area becomes, unlike the grammar school, which is also located in the eastern district and closer to Ryan's city center.

Fafnir observed the scenery along the way as he walked towards the school.

The streets were narrow, the wooden houses were crammed together, the paint was peeling off the walls, and puddles of water mixed with rotten vegetable leaves on the ground emitted a foul odor...

Following the address, Fafner walked for nearly an hour from the grammar school and stopped in front of an old church.

The church was small, with greyish-white stone walls. Above the main entrance was carved a raven feather, the symbol of the Church of the God of Death.

The door was open, and there were footsteps inside.

Fafnard walked in, through the foyer,

Inside was a rectangular hall, which used to be a place for worship. Now there were several long tables and benches, and there was still some dust on the tabletops.

"Who are you?"

A woman's voice came from inside.

Fafnir turned around. A middle-aged woman in a grey robe stood in the hall, holding a wooden box.

Her hair was tied in a bun, with a few stray strands hanging by her ears. She had pointed ears, but they were rounder than those of a pure-blooded elf, suggesting she had human ancestry.

"Hello, I am Fafnir Beckett, Assistant Priest II, and I'm here to teach this semester."

The woman put down the wooden crate, dusted it off, and looked him over. "You're here so early? You're the little fellow Bishop Zaitsev was talking about?"

"It should be me."

"Hello, my name is Anna Herbert," she said, extending her hand.

"Right now, there's only one teacher here, me, plus you, that makes two. I heard that two more teachers will join after the start of the semester."

Fafnir shook hands with her; her knuckles were thick, unlike the slender fingers of most elves.

"Little one, thank you for coming here. I don't belong to the hierarchy of the Church of the God of Death; I'm not a superhuman."

I'm really looking forward to working with you when school starts; I've lived here since I was a child.

Anna led him on a tour of the entire church.

The main hall/auditorium was used as classrooms, the prayer room on the left as storage, and the office on the right.

There is a small courtyard behind it with a well, and at the end of the courtyard is a small house, which is the toilet.

"I'm sorry, these are the conditions," Anna said, standing in the yard. "They certainly can't compare to the conditions you had at grammar school."

"No, no, it's fine," Fafnir said. "It's better than where I used to live."

……

On the last day of the holiday, Mr. Victor came to Fafnir's dormitory.

"I'm sorry, my little Fafnir," Mr. Victor said, unusually embarrassed.

"School starts tomorrow, but those two old priests don't want to teach at the East End Poor Children's School."

Only Anna, a devout follower of the Church of the God of Death who grew up there, was willing…”

……

On the first day of school, Fafnir got up before six o'clock.

He put on his priest's robes and checked his belongings: several textbooks, a large stack of scrap paper, more than twenty pens, and a cloth bag for his lunch.

He didn't bring the amber fragments with him; today is the first day, and he probably won't have time to practice that at all.

The walk from the grammar school to the East Side School for Poor Children took longer than Mr. Victor had said; even though Fafnir walked quickly and had scouted the area beforehand, it still took him nearly fifty minutes.

When Fafnir arrived, a group of children were already standing at the church entrance.

They came in all shapes and sizes; the smallest looked to be five or six years old, while the largest was probably twelve or thirteen.

They were dressed in all sorts of clothes; some wore robes made from old adult clothes, some wore patched shirts, and a few were barefoot.

"My name is Fafnir Beckett," Fafnir said. "From now on, I will teach you to read and do arithmetic."

"Do you know magic?" A little girl peeked out from behind the crowd, her voice soft.

"I know a little."

"Then give us a performance!" a boy urged.

Fafnir shook his head: "We're here to teach, not to perform. Come on in."

The children dawdled as they walked into the church.

……

The first day of classes was much more tiring than Fafner had imagined.

Of the forty-seven children, fewer than ten could write their names completely, and only three could recognize all the letters of the alphabet. Most of the children didn't even know how to hold a pen properly. One girl held a pen like a twig, gripping the barrel with all five fingers.

Fafner taught them how to hold a pen one by one.

"Place your thumb here, and hold it between your index and middle fingers, but don't grip too tightly."

He walked over to a thin boy, squatted down, gently pried his fingers apart, and placed them back on the pen.

The little boy's hands were very dirty; his fingernails were full of black grime, and there were several small cuts on the back of his hands, as if he had been scratched by something.

The girl sitting next to him was named Eileen. She looked about seven or eight years old, with messy hair and a purplish-blue bruise on her face. Fafnir taught her how to write her name three times.

Fafner held her hand and wrote it a fourth time. The strokes were still crooked, but at least the letters were legible. He pushed the paper back and let her write it again herself.

Eileen wrote slowly, her hand trembling. When she reached the last letter, she stopped, stared at the paper for several seconds, and then looked up at Fafner.

"Very good, it's written down," Fafnir said.

Fafnir stood up, looked around the classroom, and saw Anna in the front row quietly teaching a few students to pronounce the alphabet. Her voice was a little hoarse, but she was very patient.

The remaining children were either doodling on paper, staring blankly at their desks, or secretly pushing each other in the back row.

Fafnir walked over and stood between the two boys who were shoving each other, and they immediately stopped moving.

"What are your names?"

The older one said, "Luca." The younger one didn't speak and shrank back.

"Luca, can you write your own name?"

Luca shook his head.

"Do you recognize the alphabet?"

He shook his head again.

Fafner placed the paper and pen in front of him. Luca stared at the blank sheet of paper, his hands on his knees, and didn't move.

"Try writing one down; it's okay if you make a mistake."

Luca hesitated for a moment, then picked up the pen.

Fafner looked down and saw a few crooked lines drawn on the paper.

“It’s alright,” Fafner said. “I’ll teach you.”

The morning passed just like that.

At noon, Fafnir sat on the steps in front of the church and ate his lunch. He had bought the bread that morning from the grammar school cafeteria, and it contained a slice of smoked meat.

Anna came out with a bowl of soup and sat down next to him.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"fine."

"You said it's okay, but it's still very tiring," Anna said, taking a sip of soup. "I feel quite tired."

Fafnir didn't reply, and stuffed the last bite of bread into his mouth.

"That girl with the injury on her face," Anna said, "Irene, her family isn't doing well. Her dad drinks and beats people when he's drunk, and her mom works in the laundry room and can't take care of her."

Fafner nodded; he had already guessed it, but he hadn't asked.

"Just be careful, many kids are like that," Anna said, standing up and carrying the empty bowl back. "We can't control these things too much."

Fafnir sat on the steps, and in the distance, children screamed and ran past in the alley, then fell silent.

……

Another day has passed.

When school ended in the afternoon, Fafnir packed up his things and found that Eileen was still there. She was sitting on the bench at the back of the classroom with her head down.

"Eileen, it's time to go home."

She didn't move.

Fafnir went over and sat down next to her. The stool was small, and the two of them squeezed together a bit cramped.

"What's wrong?"

Eileen didn't speak. After a while, she suddenly stretched out her hand and opened it in front of Fafnir. There were several red marks on her palm, probably from being whipped, and it was already swollen.

Fafnir looked at the red marks:

"Who hit him?"

Eileen pulled her hand back and hid it in her sleeve.

"My dad." Her voice was so soft that Fafnir almost didn't hear it.

"He drank too much yesterday," she added.

Fafnir remained silent for a long time. He recalled his childhood when Clint never hit him. Clint couldn't even bring himself to say anything harsh. Every night, Clint would wait for him to come home for dinner and call him "my dear little Fafnir."

"Eileen, get some rest. Are you coming to class tomorrow?" Fafnir asked softly.

Eileen nodded.

"Thank you, teacher. Goodbye."

Fafnir nodded, and Eileen turned and ran, disappearing into the alley in the blink of an eye.

Fafnir walked toward the grammar school, still thinking about what he had seen and heard over the past few days, about the wounds on Anna's, Luca's, and Irene's faces and the red marks on their hands...