The Bibliophagic Failure

In the military academy, Regis Aurick really was the bottom of the barrel: swinging a sword put him at a considerable risk of slicing through his own feet, horseback riding always ended with him writhing in the dirt, and both a shield and spear were too heavy for him to carry. But above all else, the man was completely unmotivated—he would do nothing but read books whenever he had the chance, to the point that his instructors all unanimously agreed they had never before seen someone with so little promise.

Strategy training was perhaps his one saving grace—an area in which he remained intramurally undefeated up to the day he left. Some said that even the teachers were never a match for him. But war in this era required one to be proficient with a bow and spear, and with Regis having achieved such low marks in almost every subject that the grading criteria had to be updated to even account for them, he was certain he would never graduate, let alone become a soldier. That is, until a certain old noble graciously invited him to join his army.

Was it done on a whim? Regis couldn’t help but wonder.

And so, he graduated from the academy, and at a prosperous young age was made a staff officer in the old noble’s army. His employer was Marquis Thénezay—a man who did not have much in the way of military prowess but knew how to economize. He was a gentle soul, dearly loved by his people.

Regis initially thought he had been hired as nothing more than a chess partner, but it seemed the marquis truly believed he had talent. He was told to learn everything he could—to put his mind to use for the army and the Empire—and given full access to both the military library and the man’s personal book collection. He also received a meager salary as an apprentice strategist, though a majority of what he earned went straight toward new books.

This arrangement lasted for around two and a half years, and while his days were busy, Regis found them to be terribly fulfilling. But all good things eventually come to an end...