Rui’s dilemma hadn’t been resolved even as he reached the Academy, but at the very least he was finally able to put his thoughts aside for a valid reason as he underwent the post-mission protocol.
He headed straight to the commission department of the Academy, plucked out one of the forms that Martial Artists were required to fill. These involved filling mundane details about himself and the mission. Followed by a detailed report of the proceedings of the mission, in a chronological manner, with time stamps.
Filling out the report was painful and strangely therapeutic. It was painful revisiting everything, especially with twenty-twenty hindsight. Everything he recounted now felt flawed and mistake-riddled and blunder-filled. He kept thinking of how he could have done better.
On the other hand, he was able to vent as he wrote down his experiences in detail. He felt as though a lot of the frustration, guilt and grief were ebbing out from his stressed heart, flowing out of his body and into the ink of his pen.
He felt a little calmer and more composed as the longer he wrote. His burden didn’t grow any lighter, but he felt strong enough to carry it.
In that moment, he felt his determination will up.
(‘Never again.’) He vowed. (‘I’m going to grow strong enough to ensure that this something like this won’t ever happen again.’)
Once he completed the procedures he needed to, submitted the report.
“Mam.” He addressed one of the support staff members of the commission department. “I’m here to receive the minimum guarantee pay of the mission.”
Every mission gave the Martial Artist a bare minimum amount of remuneration, regardless of success or failure as long as the rules and protocol of the Martial Union weren’t violated by the Martial Artist. Martial Artists staked their lives on the line with every mission, the minimum guarantee remuneration clause of the licensing agreement between the Martial Union and Martial Artist was instated to give Martial Artists some amount of leeway.
This was to ensure that they didn’t have to starve just because they narrowly failed an extremely difficult mission, after spending an immense amount of time, effort and energy into the mission, undertaking great risks.
It was also way of ensuring that Martial Artist had less of a reason to be discontent with the Martial Union. After all, the Martial Union was nothing without Martial Artist that staked their lives every day.
“Just one second.” She responded before flipping through some documents, before looking back up. “Your remuneration has been put on hold…”
Rui frowned. “Excuse me?”
“The issue has been taken up by the headmaster himself, I’m afraid.” She shrugged helplessly. “I would suggest you visit him if you wish to inquire about it.”
“…Okay.” Rui turned around and headed towards the headmaster’s office, confused.
Why would the headmaster meddle with his remuneration? Rui didn’t understand at all. As he reached the headmaster’s office, he paused, enraptured by the gate that restricted entry. He wasn’t sure what to do. Wasn’t there supposed to be secretaries or some other personnel that monitored who approached the office?
Should he knock?
(‘Screw it. Let’s knock.’)
It opened just as he reached it, allowing him full view of everything inside.
The office was gigantic, filled with a library of neatly arranged and organized documents and books.
However, what drew his attention was the figure sitting at the center of the office.
Headmaster Aronian; A mighty Martial Master!
“Headmaster.” Rui bowed deeply, partly because of the great awe and respect he had for vaunted Martial Masters, partly because the sheer weight of headmaster Aronian’s being pushing down on Rui, compelling him to bow.
Rui was once again reminded how deep the Martial Path extended, the fact that a human being could develop and grow his Martial Art until it became as mighty as a mountain, capable of crushing everything around it, lifted his spirits out of the muddle his emotions were.
“Enter.” Headmaster Aronian spoke softly, yet Rui could hear nothing else, almost as if the world went silent when he opened his mouth.
Rui walked in immediately.
On the inside, there were two Martial Squires serving as guards. Under ordinary circumstances, Rui would have been awed by their formidable appearance and presence, but this time he hadn’t even noticed them until they entered his field of vision!
The weight of the presence of Martial Squires were drowned out entirely by that of headmaster Aronian. Stars could only shine at night, when the sun wasn’t around, otherwise they are invisible.
“Apprentice Rui Quarrier.” He spoke with a casual tone despite the formality of his words. “I’ve been wanting to speak to you face-to-face for a while now. But only today has there been an apt enough opportunity.”
“It’s an honour, headmaster Aronian.” He said respectfully.
Headmaster Aronian chuckled lightly, much to Rui’s surprise. “No need to be too formal with me young man. I appreciate candour.”
“I am being honest, headmaster. All of those words could not be truer.” Rui replied earnestly.
Headmaster Aronian simply smiled. “Well, I suppose you’re here to inquire about your remuneration, yes?”
“Yes, headmaster.” Rui stated.
“Before I speak about that, I would first like to offer an apology.”
Rui’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “An… apology?”
“We have learnt and verified several intel, even outside of your report, that proves that the mission’s difficulty was heinously under-rated on our end.” He said, before continuing. “In light of all the information at hand, this mission is at the very least a grade five as far as difficulty goes. However, it may even be raised depending on the results of further investigation from the post-mission intelligence investigation.”
He paused with a hint of sorrow molding into his expression. “There is absolutely no justification on the Academy’s end for a year-old Martial Apprentice accepting a grade five mission faultily evaluated to be a grade one mission. This isn’t unheard of, or even particularly rare, but this extreme instance was truly an unacceptable lapse on our end.”
He paused, before bowing his head lightly. “On behalf of the Academy, I am sorry.”