Weakest Beast Tamer Gets All SSS Dragons

Chapter 626: Chapter 626 – Taming the Fifth Year – Tutor – 2

“But you probably thought it,” Aldric smiled, without malice, just amusement.

His eyes crinkled at the corners in a way that suggested he found the whole situation entertaining rather than offensive.

“It’s understandable. A tutor from another academy, assigned to be ’impartial’, who just happens to be the father of one of the main candidates to obtain Starweaver territories or… Goldcrest ones, if he distinguishes himself enough. The math isn’t difficult.”

“Lord…”

“Just Aldric.”

“Aldric,” Ren corrected, feeling his defenses beginning to lower unwillingly. The man’s casual demeanor was disarming in a way that felt almost dangerous. “I don’t want to assume…”

“But you do assume, and it’s normal,” Aldric set his cup on the table, his expression becoming more serious but not cold. There was understanding there, acknowledgment of the political realities they both existed in. “Let me be completely honest with you, Ren. I could make things very difficult for you to try and make you fall. But I’m not going to do that.”

Ren blinked, the statement so unexpected it took him a moment to process. “You’re not?”

“No.” Aldric leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table in a posture that was almost conspiratorial. His green eyes held Ren’s gaze steadily, no deception visible in their depths. “Look, I’m going to explain something about noble politics that perhaps no one else will tell you. There are two types of nobles: those who play the long game, and the idiots who think every small advantage matters.”

He took another sip of tea before continuing, letting the words settle.

“The idiots are the ones who try to sabotage every potential rival, who make unnecessary enemies, who burn bridges for temporary victories. And they generally end up destroying themselves because eventually you run out of allies and have too many enemies.”

“And you…?”

“I play the long game,” Aldric smiled, but there was something calculating in it now. The smile of someone who’d survived decades of noble politics by thinking ten moves ahead. “Which means I recognize fundamental truths. You’re incredibly valuable to the kingdom. Your cultivation methods have transformed society. Making you an enemy would be stupid when I could make you an ally.”

The word “ally” hung in the air between them, loaded with implications.

Aldric leaned back again, his expression softening into something that looked almost paternal.

“So here’s my proposal: I teach you noble protocol properly. I help you navigate this year without making a fool of yourself in the evaluations. I give you honest advice when you need it. And in return, you actually try to learn instead of assuming I’m sabotaging you.”

“That seems… generous,” Ren said slowly.

“It is, I shouldn’t, but my son is better than that,” Aldric began, taking a sip before setting his cup down with a soft clink against the saucer. “So let’s begin. I imagine you’re a bit nervous about all this.”

“A bit,” Ren admitted, which was a massive understatement. His stomach had been twisted in knots since yesterday.

“It’s completely normal,” Aldric said with an understanding tone that actually sounded genuine. “Noble protocol has this terrible reputation of being impossibly complicated. Years of archaic rules, ridiculous expectations, old nobles waiting for you to stumble.”

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if waving away centuries of tradition.

“The truth is that most of it is theater. Much noise about nothing.”

Ren blinked, certain he’d misheard. “Theater?”

“Theater,” Aldric confirmed with conviction. “Ancient nobles make it seem more complicated than it is to keep others out. It’s intimidation, nothing more. But between you and me,” he leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice as if sharing a precious secret, “once you understand the basic tricks, the rest is just… acting with confidence.”

He took another sip of tea, letting that settle. The silence stretched comfortably, not pressuring Ren to talk immediately.

“Look, most tutors will overwhelm you with unnecessary details. They’ll make you memorize protocols that no one’s used in decades. They’ll drive you crazy with distinctions that don’t matter in practice.”

“And you won’t?”

“I prefer the practical approach,” Aldric smiled, and it seemed genuine. “I’ll teach you what you really need to pass the evaluations. No unnecessary filler. Just the essentials.”

He stood and walked to the shelves, pulling out some books. Not many, just three slim volumes. The movement was casual, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world.

“These cover everything you need to know,” he said, placing them in front of Ren. The books landed with soft thuds on the polished wood. “Basic protocol, etiquette at formal events, and territorial management. Simple, direct, no complications.”

Ren looked at the books. They were noticeably thinner than the tomes he’d seen in the library, the ones Larissa had mentioned with dread in her voice. These looked almost… manageable.

“Just these three?”

“Just these three,” Aldric confirmed with a reassuring nod. “As I said, most of the rest is filler. These have what’s important.”

He opened the first book to a marked page, the spine cracking slightly with the movement.

“For example, look at this. Formal bows. People make a whole drama about the exact angles, the precise timing. The truth,” Aldric performed the gesture casually, his body moving with practiced ease, “is that as long as you don’t fall over or look drunk, no one really notices the difference of two or three degrees.”

He demonstrated a bow that was technically correct but clearly relaxed, without the formal rigidity that Larissa had been trying to drill into him for days.

“See? Functional. Appropriate. Without all the unnecessary stress.”

Ren tried to imitate the movement. It came out naturally, without the tension he’d been feeling when practicing with Larissa. His back didn’t lock up. His breathing stayed steady.

“Perfect,” Aldric smiled broadly, his approval seeming genuine and warm. “Exactly like that. Relaxed but respectful. That’s the secret, Ren. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be… good enough.”

The phrase “good enough” echoed in Ren’s mind. It sounded so simple, so achievable, compared to the perfection most had demanded.

The next hours passed quickly. Aldric explained each concept with refreshing simplicity, always emphasizing that things weren’t as complicated as others made them seem. He moved between topics with ease, never dwelling too long on any one point.

“Precedence rules,” he said at one point, flipping through the second book to a diagram that looked deceptively simple, “are basically common sense. The most important go first. If you’re not sure, let others go first and observe. No one’s going to punish you for being polite.”

“And if I make a mistake?”

“Then you apologize briefly and move on,” Aldric shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “People make mistakes all the time. Old nobles want you to believe a minor error is the end of the world, but it’s not. They’re human too, they make mistakes constantly.”

He said it with such casual confidence, as if years of tradition and rigid hierarchy meant nothing.

“That’s… simpler than I expected.”

“Because it is,” Aldric smiled, satisfaction evident in his expression. “That’s my point. They’ve built all this mystique around noble protocol to make it seem impossible. But once you see through the smoke, it’s quite manageable.”

When the class ended, Aldric packed up the books and handed them to Ren. The weight was almost disappointingly light in his hands.

“Read the first Chapter of each for next time,” he said, his tone easy and unburdened by the urgency others had conveyed. “You don’t need to memorize it. Just familiarize yourself with the concepts. We’re going to take this slowly, no rush.”

“No rush?” Ren asked, surprise evident in his voice. Everything he’d heard suggested this year would be a desperate sprint from one evaluation to the next. “Don’t we have evaluations soon?”

“We have enough time,” Aldric made a carefree gesture, dismissing the concern with a wave. “The first exams are in three months. More than enough to cover the basics. You don’t need to stress from now.”

Three months sounded like forever compared to what he’d been dreading.

“But they told me that…”

“Those who told you probably have tutors who are making their lives impossible,” Aldric interrupted with sympathy. “That’s because some tutors believe that stress and constant pressure are necessary. I don’t. I believe you learn better when you’re relaxed. So you’re lucky to have me.”

He approached the door, holding it open for Ren in a gesture that was courteous without being obsequious.

“Trust me, Ren. I’ve seen hundreds of students go through this process. I know exactly what you need to succeed. And believe me, it’s not killing yourself with stress from day one.”

Ren exited the classroom, the three slim books in his hands feeling almost insultingly light compared to the weight he’d expected. His backpack, which he’d emptied to make room for anticipated heavy tomes, felt strangely hollow.

“See you in two days,” Aldric said goodbye with a friendly smile. “And remember, take it easy. This is easier than you think.”

As he walked down the hallway, Ren felt something strange in his chest. It was… relief, he supposed. A loosening of the tension that had been coiled there like a spring for days. He’d been anticipating that noble protocol would be a nightmare, but it turned out Aldric was right.

Maybe all the drama around the subject was just that. Unnecessary drama.

The portraits on the walls seemed less judgmental now, less like they were watching for him to fail. Just paintings of dead people who’d probably stressed themselves out over things that didn’t really matter.

Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The thought brought a small smile to his face as he headed toward his next class, the slim books tucked under his arm feeling more like allies than burdens.