Free Web NovelLinhart was on the move again. It was a short walk to the wide green meadow where the Fighter meals were held. As soon as he left the theater of the Sun Princess, he could already smell the aromas of freshly-cooked food.
The scent of roasted meats, cooked vegetables, and baked breads filled his nose and started his stomach rumbling. He was low on energy and his lack of sleep was catching up with him, but more than anything, Linhart was famished.
He mentally added ‘eat a full meal’ to his list of things to do, right after locating Zoey, and right before giving her his fourth and final bracer. Maybe they could eat a nice meal together? He had never actually met her outside of her dorm, and he was excited to see how good she looked in her school uniform.
But when he arrived at Fighter’s Green, which was the name of both the meadow and the entire Fighting area, he realized finding her would take longer than first anticipated. Hundreds of students were seated at the long tables out in the open air or, for latecomers who couldn't find a seat, they were milling about under the shady trees at the edge of the green. There were even more waiting in line in front of the big tents where the food was being prepared and served. There was a certain familiarity about this scene and a certain uncanniness about it as well. Oh yeah… this was his first time attending Midday Meal in this new world.
In his previous world, the Fighter girls were easy to pick out from the crowd. With their plaid skirts and long hair, they would all be gathered around the table reserved for girls. It was the one nearest to the tents, and they generally stuck together, avoiding the other tables filled with testosterone-driven young men who were hungry, horny, and eager for an afternoon of Fighting lessons. Linhart remembered wistfully wishing that he could sit at that reserved table, surrounded by those lively girls, chattering about Fighting theory or gossiping about boys in their courses but, looking across the green now, he realized that those girls did not exist here.
The four long tables that weren’t reserved for men were crammed elbow to elbow with girls eating ravenously, while they spoke loudly or sometimes shouted across the table at their nearest neighbors. There was no dress code for Midday meal, so some girls were still in their uniform, while others had changed into the sports wear that would be required for afternoon courses. He noticed more than a couple of junior and senior girls had removed their tops completely. Whether they were showing off their assets, or they were just enjoying the feel of the hot sun on their boobs, it made the crowd of girls even more exciting for Linhart to observe.
Midday Meal was a social tradition among the Fighter class, and everyone, no matter their rank or Score, was expected to attend daily. There were no Fighter courses scheduled between the hours of 12pm to 1pm, specifically so that no Fighter was excluded from the customary bonding time between the ranks. A Magister had once told him that the real purpose of Midday Meal was to clarify the Fighter pecking order for arrogant freshmen, and to give the juniors and seniors a chance to fraternize with their favorite underlings. For the freshman, it was a time to practice humility and to try not to piss off any juniors, or even worse, seniors. Linhart remembered a few boys in his freshman year who had been rude and dismissive of the seniors during their first week here. A few lessons later, those boys discovered seniors remember the rude freshmen during the afternoon fights. None of them lasted a month in the Academy.
This would be a testing ground for him, just as much as the Circled Square was. Hopefully, this time it’ll end better.
Now, Linhart stood as small as he could, trying to appear invisible, as he scanned the mass of bodies, looking for one little blond girl in a sea of femininity. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Some freshmen at the table nearest to him had definitely noticed him standing nearby.
He knew he wasn’t as good as the boys who were born to this world at shutting down the girls’ advances, so he would try to avoid them all together. He had to move before they tried to strike up a conversation.
Walking down the row between two long tables, he could feel his presence being noticed. Girls on either side watched with curiosity or hungry eyes as he passed. Girls on the benches nearest to him, turned their heads and smiled or greeted him. Everyone here seemed to know him by name. It was disarming for him, as many of the girls he had never seen before.
“Come join me, Linhart,” a familiar-looking girl on his left called.
“There’s a space right here for you to sit,” a big girl proclaimed, sliding over a few inches. He politely declined and kept moving.
All the freshmen were now wearing ID bracers. Many of them were playing around with their dial, and he could hear a few weighing between which skill to choose. Some freshmen were looking despondent, or encouraging a friend who had found out they were starting with a particularly low Fighting Score. The general chatter at the freshmen-filled tables seemed to be how best to improve their score.
It was sheer luck that he suddenly noticed a voluminous head of blond hair on a petite girl just ahead on the same side he was searching. He smiled, noting her sports wear, the blue bikini top and short shorts looked amazing on her tiny frame, but then frowned when he saw the ID bracer, clearly visible on her left arm. Had she forgotten her promise not to receive her ID bracer this morning? She was facing away from him, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was his little loli, Zoey. Rushing forward a few steps, he laid his hand on her shoulder.
“Zoey, why are you wearing…” Linhart began, but then cut off. Her head spun around and he saw that her eyes were filled with attitude. A wicked looking smile bloomed on her face when she saw who he was.
This wasn’t Zoey. It was Chloe.
“Look who came back, it’s my missing meat pole,” she said rancorously. Before he could react, she had wrapped her arm as far around him as she could reach, “Girls, this is the boy I was telling you about. The one I've been banging. When you're a Level 3 like me, boys just come looking for you."
“No way!” They were suddenly the center of attention for every girl within earshot up and down the long benches. They were all freshmen here.
“That’s Linhart, he’s the Stratega’s boy! There's no way you’re banging him,” one said doubtfully.
“Am, too,” Chloe replied, “Tell them, Linhart.” She was touching him without restraint now, eager to show their intimate relationship off to all her friends, her hand was sliding up the inside of his shirt. This was really embarrassing for him! As attractive as she was, he couldn’t let her demean him like this in front of so many people.
He pushed hard away from her and stepped backwards, right into the bench of girls behind him. “No Chloe, don’t touch me. I'm looking for Zoey.” The girls at the table with her laughed, and Chloe’s face clouded over in anger and embarrassment.
“What do you want with her?” she snapped.
“Maybe you're too strong for him. He probably wants to bang the Level 1 sister,” the girl next to her howled.
“Linhart, Linhart…” Other girls were trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t see Zoey anywhere. Why wasn’t she here eating here with Chloe?
One of the girls he had backed into pulled him close and spoke into his ear over the din. “You're looking for the other twin, right? The seniors came by a few minutes ago, and hauled her off for swatter duty. She's over there at their table.”
“Thanks…” he replied, wanting to say the girl’s name, to show he appreciated her help. She had dark skin and pretty eyes, and he had seen her before, but he didn’t know who she was.
“You’re welcome, Linhart,” she replied sweetly, “My name’s Savannah. Maybe at End of Day meal you can sit with me? You’re my favorite Fighter boy.” fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
Savannah's words left him speechless, so he just smiled back at her and nodded. He felt like he'd become a famous Fighter, but not for the reasons he'd first aspired to.
Chloe was still grabbing for him, demanding to know what he wanted to see Zoey for, but he slipped away without giving her an answer. He could hear the rest of her table teasing and taunting the little girl as he walked away, and he knew she would make him pay for embarrassing her the next time they met.
Linhart had to stay focused on the mission. At the far end of the table, he saw that the crowd was mostly seniors, with a few juniors scattered amongst them. The atmosphere around these older girls was noticeably more menacing. He wouldn't be able to slip away from them as easily as he had from the freshmen.
There were also freshmen present, but they weren’t eating. Instead, they were performing simple tasks, like delivering food from the tent, pouring water, or massaging the muscular shoulders of one of the senior girls. In this world, as in his previous world, seniors treated juniors like apprentices, and freshmen like servants.
He saw Zoey before she saw him. She was hovering around the end of the table, where a group of 10 seniors were crammed close together in deep discussion. She held a horsehair switch in her hand and was diligently swatting the flies away from a dish piled high with lamb meat. Like her sister, she was dressed in her sports wear, and Linhart took a moment to admire the way her body curved as she stretched between the bodies of her seniors. The enchanting line that ran up the middle of her shapely back. Her shining blond hair that she had tied up in a lazy bun. The sexy way her shorts were riding up the crack of her butt. Everything about her was sexy!
Looking around the table, he recognized these seniors and he knew they might be trouble. Maeve was there on the far side, and Ami sitting with her back to him, as well as some other seniors he knew less intimately, but who he’d also seen handling boys roughly before. Should he wait until after the meal was over to talk with Zoey? Linhart was thinking it over, when a smooth voice, speaking loudly, called out his name.
It was Maeve, and her sharp green eyes were locked on him. She looked like a cat about to pounce.
“It’s about time you showed up, freshman.”
