Extra's Survival: Raising SSS-Rank Characters Is My Only Option

It took some time to convince the people Encrid had selected to attend the first class, mostly because being summoned to a new and unexplained training program was not something the ordinary people of the Wall were accustomed to, but the Council had approved it and the orders had been issued, so after enough explanations from their commanders, enough reassurances from their superiors, and more than a few promises that nobody was being asked to give up their ordinary duties permanently, the matter eventually proceeded without much trouble.

The first cultivation class in the history of the Wall began in the third bathhouse near the eastern barracks on a cold morning at the very end of the third month since he had become the strategist.

There were thirty-eight people instead of the forty Encrid had requested.

Two had simply failed to appear.

It turned out that even when the Council itself ordered something, absentees could not always be eliminated from the world.

The thirty-eight students came from all over the Wall and from occupations that had almost nothing in common with one another.

There was a fifteen-year-old stable boy who spent most of his days carrying feed and cleaning hooves, a forty-year-old sergeant from the Drain Watch who had accidentally opened a Star when she was nineteen and had spent the following two decades without ever understanding what had happened to her, two kitchen workers, several levy soldiers, a pair of masons, three people from the Quartermastery, a gate worker, a messenger, and men and women from several other positions that Encrid had considered ordinary enough that nobody else in the fortress would have thought to gather them into the same room.

All thirty-eight had been selected personally by Encrid.

His Appraisal Skill had helped him with the selection.

It was not perfect, and he did not trust it enough to let it make the decision by itself, but it had allowed him to sort through thousands of people and narrow the list to those he believed were most likely to benefit from the experiment.

Only eight of the thirty-eight could read.

Four already had open Stars.

The rest knew almost nothing about cultivation.

That was precisely why Encrid had chosen them.

For most of these people, the opportunity in front of them was almost absurdly valuable.

Nobles hired cultivation instructors for their children and paid fortunes for teachers who had spent decades studying the subject. Wealthy merchants did the same when they could afford it, and even among common families there were those who saved for years to send a gifted son or daughter to someone who knew how to guide a Star.

For people on the Wall who sometimes had to think about whether they could afford another loaf of bread at the end of the week, hiring a cultivation teacher belonged to the same category as owning a palace.

It was something other people did.

Something distant.

Something that happened behind the walls of noble estates.

So when word spread that the Wall was going to provide cultivation instruction without charging them a single copper, the thirty-eight students had arrived that morning with considerably more excitement than Encrid had expected.

They whispered among themselves while they waited.

Some were nervous.

Some were excited.

A few were already sitting cross-legged with their eyes closed, apparently hoping that a Star might open before the instructor even arrived.

Most of them had never been taught anything about cultivation, but that had not stopped them from imagining what might happen if they succeeded.

When Encrid entered the bathhouse, the conversation immediately quieted, but he could still hear a few whispers.

”That’s him.”

”The Watcher.”

”The Strategist.”

”Is that really his office?”

”I heard he argued with the Council for an hour.”

”I heard he has a Black Star.”

”I heard the second watch commander likes him, they say they are pretty close.”

Encrid stopped at the front of the room and decided to ignore all the whispers.

He looked over the thirty-eight faces in front of him and understood immediately that they had arrived expecting something very different.

Perhaps they expected a demonstration.

Perhaps they expected him to sit down, close his eyes, and produce some impressive display of cultivation that would convince them that they had been given an extraordinary opportunity.

Instead, Encrid said,

”Right. The first thing I am going to tell you is that I cannot do this.”

The room became completely silent.

Encrid continued before their confusion could turn into disappointment.

”I have one Star. It is the Azure Star. It is at the Initiate Realm, and I have been stuck in the same realm for months now.”

He didn’t know when Encrid had awakened the star, so he just said the time from which he had been cultivating the star himself.

A few people looked at one another. Encrid did not pretend not to notice.

”I have very little talent for cultivation, and I have no expectation of becoming powerful through it.”

He said it plainly, without embarrassment.

”In fact, if you are here expecting me to demonstrate some impressive technique, you should probably leave now, because I am not going to do that.”

A few uncertain smiles appeared.

”Every person in this room who has already opened a Star is either as advanced as I am or more advanced than I am, and some of you are considerably more advanced.”

The forty-year-old Drain Watch sergeant raised her hand.

Encrid looked at her.

”Yes?”

”If you cannot demonstrate cultivation, my lord, what exactly are you going to teach us?”

It was a fair question.

Encrid nodded.

”What is happening inside you, why it is happening, what you should be looking for, what you should avoid, and what it means when your progress stops.”

He turned toward the blackboard that had been brought into the bathhouse and picked up the chalk.

”That is different from teaching you how to fight.”

He drew a long line down the board.

”Let me start from the basics. Every person in this room has seven Stars.”

He wrote the number.

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