YM778.TV Chapter 28: Divine Politics & The Initial Tournament Rounds
Chapter 28: Divine Politics & The Initial Tournament Rounds
If a Grandmaster space mage was telling him he’d never seen such poor affinity… then how could Orodan argue? Perhaps his natural affinity towards violence and melee combat came at the price of such an intrinsic weakness.
He had approached Destartes with three weeks left till the tournament, and the man had happily been willing to teach him as a favor for saving his life in the energy well.
Of course, three weeks of struggle later… he was no closer to understanding the field of space magic. It was incredibly complicated to begin with, and while his unshakeable focus helped him understand the theory… the practical portion required magical talent he just didn’t have.
Spatiomancy, like chronomancy was one of the naturally harder fields of magic to learn. In contrast, elemental magic could be considered... elementary.
Certain skills such as crafting had risen a bit during the three weeks. And he felt he was quite close to making a breakthrough and acquiring a resistance skill from the lasso now. Getting hit by an element he had no resistance to in actual combat might just allow him to make a breakthrough.
“I suppose I’ll have to readjust my expectations of being able to learn any functional spatiomancy by the time of the tournament,” Orodan replied.
“Look, you’re without a doubt possessed of a level of sheer focus and unbreakable grit that I didn’t think a human being was capable of,” Destartes spoke. “But sometimes natural talent is a reality we have to accept. If it makes you feel better, I could never learn the martial arts to the extent you have. You’re a truly anomalous prodigy in that field, especially if your claim of not being a reincarnator is true.”
“Understood, but I’ll eventually be able to grasp the field though, right?” Orodan asked. “Even if takes a while, could I at least understand the very basics of spatiomancy within a few years if I kept at it?”“Without a doubt. Not only that, but…” Destartes spoke and then paused before continuing. “Your ability to generate energy is frightening. Us mages are naturally all too aware of mana costs and are always trying to push the boundaries of energy generation. But the amount of energy consumed in healing yourself like you did in the energy well; it was truly unfathomable. I suspect that when you do crack even the very basic spells of space magic, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”
Orodan suspected this was the case as well.
The absolutely basic Flare spell he knew, which was the stuff of absolute beginners in the school of pyromancy… was far stronger than it should be in his hands.
With Draconic Mana Channeling and his action increases, he turned the spell meant for lighting campfires and sending signals… into one that could seriously hurt Masters and cause wide area devastation even at level 24.
He had effectively even used it against Arvayne Firesword to obscure the man’s view during their last fight.
He didn’t know how long it would take him to learn the basic Spatial Fold spell he was focusing upon, but once he got it, he could probably fold space for tremendous distances.
The spell was supposed to weaken and fold space inwards on itself within the channeled area, allowing the caster to step quickly and cover a larger distance than the step would be in reality.
But with Orodan’s potential for Draconic Mana Channeling, who knew if he could essentially cross miles in a single step even with the first level of it?
“Alright, if you don’t mind though, I’d like to keep studying for now,” Orodan replied. “The tournament is tomorrow, and I’ve been struggling to grasp Spatial Fold for the last three weeks. We have three more hours left before I have to work on my tutelage with the dragons, and I’d like to maximize that time.”
“Such an eager student! If only half my disciples had the work ethic you do!” Destartes remarked. “But then again, your talent is quite unfortunate. Hmm…”
“Yes?”
“I can’t tutor you forever, plus meditating on the Spatial Fold spell is mostly a solo endeavor,” the space mage explained. “But when you crack the first level, talk to me again. There are some experiments I’d like to try in regards to space magic combined with the sort of energy generation you possess.”
“I certainly will, but I have an odd question for you if you’ll humor me,” Orodan remarked. “If some random student came by and displayed incredible power with just the first level of the Spatial Fold spell… would you teach them?”
“A strange question, but to answer it, yes,” Destartes replied. “If some ridiculous prodigy such as yourself showed up and displayed such power, I’d happily accept them under my purview. The chance to train the next generation would be quite hard to pass up. I don’t know if the Chosen Ones you spend your time around have told you this Orodan… but you’re one of the few people I’ve met who actually stands a good chance of walking the path to godhood.”
“I’ve heard some rumors about it, such as the existence of a previous God of War before Agathor, and the \'heretical\' talk that the Gods ascended through the System as well,” Orodan explained. “But nobody really discusses it in depth.”
“Of course Alcianne and Agathor wouldn’t say anything about it, they’re beholden to their Gods and the Prime Five are actively invested in maintaining their stranglehold over the continent,” the spatial-Grandmaster spoke. “But even outside of them, nobody really knows how godhood is achieved, even if many ‘heretics’ state that the System allows for it. I’ve always theorized that the System actively erases the knowledge of how godhood is achieved, for there are no records of even the Gods themselves speaking of it.”
Godhood?
It sounded like a mad farce, but within the situation Orodan was in… was such a thing truly impossible?
If Gods like Ilyatana, Agorhiku and Agathor were on Orodan’s revenge list, then it was only natural that he would have to aim for such heights himself.
Not to mention, the foul three. The Eldritch divinities who were sending the invading Avatar down in two weeks.
He would have to deal with them too at some point.
But Orodan could fantasize about godhood later.
For now, the remainder of his study with Destartes called for his focus.
And after that, the final ritual aided study session of Draconic Fireball.
You’ve acquired a much larger amount of dragon blood this time,” she spoke. “Are you perhaps under the assumption that you’ll actually succeed in one go today?”
“I intend to prove your time estimates wrong. When we started this, you predicted the dragon’s estimates of decades could be shortened to a year,” Orodan spoke. “Well I intend to prove that wrong and show you that in just three weeks I can acquire the first level of Draconic Fireball. I’ll exhibit how hard work can overcome talent!”
“Feh… you’re reaching too high,” the woman caught in the book spoke. “I’ll admit you might even achieve it within six months, maybe even three given how insane your methods are. But in just three weeks? Not even the most prodigious dragons of yore could grasp the beginnings of draconic magic in just three weeks.”
“Watch me.”
That was all Orodan said before he activated the ritual circle. It had far more dragon blood within it this time.
[Magic Rituals 17 → Magic Rituals 18]
The skill had progressed to 17 over the three weeks, and now it had just achieved one more level.
The blood immediately began its usual attempt of converting Orodan towards a more draconic form. But he did not allow it.
Orodan felt so close.
He could almost feel himself becoming a dragon. He felt he was on the verge of making a breakthrough on understanding the concept behind Draconic Fireball.
All spells had a structure, this part was simple enough for Draconic Fireball. But the spell was made complicated by the fact that mana had to flow in a specific manner through his mana circuits. But the caster also had to mentally channel the mindset of a dragon in the process.
The spell wasn’t called Draconic Fireball without reason.
Six hours out of twelve passed.
Even though Orodan acquired far more blood this time, it was being burned at the same rate as he was amplifying the ritual’s effects. The increased quantity only served to keep his training time the same.
His body melted into a complete puddle. Not even his head remained as it was part of the glowing white liquid he had become.
He no longer needed to read the tome. He read it and had understood it.
The work now was comprehending it and bringing Draconic Fireball to fruition.
The dragon blood mixed so very freely with his own. He truly felt that even the slightest slip would result in him becoming insane and turning into a hybrid abomination.
But it still wasn’t enough.
The breakthrough felt so close, but it still felt unattainable.
“It’s still not going to be enough,” she spoke. “Give up your foolish delusions boy. We’ve all reached this point and thought it could be brute forced, but such things aren’t possible, even for the most talented dragons I’ve seen. I was one such talent, and when learning the magic for the first time it took even me a month and a half.”
Perhaps his annoying companion was right.
Perhaps this really was doomed to failure.
But…
…would he be Orodan Wainwright if he accepted that?
If just this wasn’t enough… then he would get a taste of what being a dragon was like if that was what it took to comprehend the magic.
For the first time, Orodan allowed the blood to do what it wanted.
He let his mind and body follow its will.
[Bloodline Created (Unstable) → Half-Dragon Hybrid]
“No! Stop! You’ll become maddened!”
The dragon ignored the words of this foolish book that prattled far too much.
As the ruler of the skies and the earth, the dragon was supreme.
Its pride was unmatched, and it would brook no quarter.
The thought of understanding a mere Draconic Fireball? Pathetic.
How had the previous being not understood so simple a concept?
The dragon would show this pathetic human that called itself Orodan Wainwright, what the basis of draconic magic was.
And then the dragon would use this new and superior body to establish dominion over land and sea. As was expected of a vaunted and venerable being of superior pedigree such as itself.
But, soon the dragon began to struggle.
The foul pest known as Orodan Wainwright began to resist.
This human dared to presume it held control and that the dragon was only allowed to exist because it allowed such a thing? Preposterous!
It’s willpower was frightening however… and the voice, the roar of this human, was strong.
Endless.
Soon, Orodan Wainwright came to his senses.
He had overcome the madness associated with the overwhelming majority of draconic hybridization attempts.
Right now, he could if he so chose… become a functional hybrid.
His muscles felt tougher, his body felt vital in a way it normally hadn’t.
But this was a pathetic result.
And Orodan had only allowed this, because he knew the infinite depths of his own willpower and trusted in his own mind to be brought back from the brink.
So too did he trust his ability to revert his body, now that he had acquired the keen insight he could only have gotten from truly allowing the transformation to subsume him.
If Orodan could resist an Eldritch Avatar’s corrupting influence for a year, he could also revert his own body to what it was before.
Eternal Soul Reactor flared to an utterly insane degree.
His Fate Disconnect collapsed immediately, and his body was almost completely disintegrated.
Then, his endless willpower went to work commanding the changes be reversed.
Every iota of draconic influence within himself heard the command.
The dragon was prideful! It was also stubborn!
But its stubbornness couldn’t hold a candle to Orodan’s own. His will over his own body, blood and being was absolute.
All semblances of draconic taint within himself were purged as his body was destroyed. And it was recreated anew with Harmony of Vitality fueled by the Eternal Soul Reactor. Remade into the image he always knew was his own. The blood, body and cells of the human Orodan Wainwright, who would never settle for simply becoming a dragon hybrid.
[Bloodline Lost → Half-Dragon Hybrid (Unstable)]
[New Skill (Mythical) → Incorruptible Being 1]
This was something he had felt the inklings of when being pressed by the Eldritch Avatar during its time spent attempting to corrupt him.
He hadn’t allowed his willpower to slip and allow its molding then. But the final step to acquiring this new skill, was allowing the corruption… but then stepping back from the point of no-return and rejecting it wholly anyways.
This, was the essence of an incorruptible being.
“…how?” she asked. “You not only retained control despite such a forced and dangerous hybridization, but you then rejected the gift of superior blood?”
“Becoming a mere dragon isn’t the extent of my goals,” Orodan answered. “I know that I can hone and craft my own body to a level beyond any single species upon this world. I can surpass the notion of mere pedigree and create my own bloodline that isn’t based upon another race. Borrowed strength is bought cheaply but will never be as profound as power purchased honestly with my own work.”
Orodan truly believed it too.
It was a goal for farther down the line, but he genuinely held that he could ascend his own body and being into becoming a unique creation of his own. One that didn’t need to borrow from dragons, while still retaining who he was at core.
“I won’t even take insult at your rejection of the almighty race and the superior combination you could’ve created,” she spoke. “But, you still haven’t reached it have you? I feel that you’re closer than anyone has ever been at your stage, but it will still take you another week.”
“You’re right, that’s why I need to go a bit further and die.”
“What?”
Before she could ask for further clarification, Orodan flared Eternal Soul Reactor once more while keeping Harmony of Vitality active to the point that he floated just a mere razor blade’s edge from death.
He had perhaps a few cells remaining that he stubbornly didn’t allow himself to reform from.
A few cells went down to one.
He stayed in this state of near death for enough time till only one hour of the ritual remained.
His new skill, Incorruptible Being completely rejected all the attempts of the draconic blood to corrupt him.
But he could still access its insights, especially the closer he was to death.
So he finally dared to attempt something really stupid.
He decided to allow the last cell to be partially destroyed.
It was pure idiocy and validated every insult about his intelligence everyone had uttered so far.
He had things left to do in this loop.
Why was he doing this? Why would he dare to end the loop prematurely?
All these questions and counter-arguments in his own head were correct. But the problem was… he just couldn’t look himself in the mirror if he didn’t try this.
Orodan was stupid.
And Orodan was stubborn.
Thus, the last cell of himself remaining was partially destroyed, and Orodan felt death come for him.
Just as the blackness approached, he forced himself to hover in a state of death through pure force of will and empowering Harmony of Vitality.
The connection between his body and his own soul was on the verge of snapping. Which really would end his loop. But he hovered for a desperate few seconds more.
Finally, it came.
He understood the Draconic Fireball. All that was left was to execute it in reality.
But, as he was about to reform from his one partially destroyed cell, he briefly contacted the blackness of death encroaching onto his consciousness.
[T@e] [mp%] [o&ra*l]
[A@n] [o!m] [aly!]
[S@y] [st!] [@em]
[E@x] [cep] [tion]
[F@o] [!@u] [n@d!]
[Li@fe#] [Si@!gns] [D@ete#@ct$ed]
[!A#b#o!@rt@#in^g] [P%r*ot#o$co@l]
Numbers and madness flooded his mind, and he barely withstood the mental deluge even with his endless fortitude of mind.
A desperate empowerment of Harmony of Vitality flooded his body and he immediately reformed.
The strange System message he saw vanished as though it never existed.
But his mind still reeled from whatever that was.
It was the first and only clue he had really found as to what the time loops were about.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on that fact right now.
The newly acquired spatial ring he had acquired was enchanted to be recalled to a safe place upon his death. And given how empty his ring finger currently was, his experiments had triggered the enchantment.
Furthermore, he felt a familiar aura of divinity he was beginning to get used to.
The ceiling of the training chamber was shattered entirely, the blue skies of Millennium Roost clear to see. The time dilation wards had been disrupted, but Orodan doubted the destroyer cared.
The glowing eyes of Heredin Aeronsul, the Chosen of Ilyatana looked down upon him.
“My Chosen happened to be near the Time Wind’s settlement, and his Blessing allowed him to peer past the foreign divinity obscuring your fate. With that shield out of the way, what he saw truly does interest me.”
Orodan had been through this dance once before, but then it was with the Avatar of Ilyatana possessing a Master-level Favored.
But now?
Now Heredin Aeronsul, the Chosen One of the Goddess of Fate was possessed. And Orodan had no confidence in beating off this foe. He still didn’t think he was a match for a Chosen Avatar.
But his hatred for this meddling Goddess ran deep, and who knew how far away Arvayne Firesword was… and whether Agathor would even want to help him currently.
Far as Orodan was concerned, he was on his own.
Flames began spiraling in his hand, as Orodan began using Draconic Mana Channeling in concert with this new skill of his.
The difference was immediately apparent.
Unlike Flare, which was standard mortal magic, Draconic Fireball was built from the ground up to accommodate colossal amounts of mana. No human mage he knew of could generate so much power, their entire mana pool would be drained dry attempting to cast even one of these.
But Orodan… he could beat even the mightiest of dragons in a contest of energy generation.
The orb of potently hot flame grew… and grew, and showed no signs of stopping. It practically devoured all the mana Orodan fed it, and he happily provided more. Furthermore, the strain on his Mana Manipulation was far less than it would be for an equivalent Flare. The spell was designed to accommodate colossal amounts of mana without Mana Manipulation being as much of a limiting factor.
The size continued to increase until it was an orb the size of the entire training chamber, at least a mile in size. Orodan doubted even a dragon could make a Draconic Fireball this large at the starter level.
But all spells had their limits, and even this Draconic Fireball, which was meant to ease the burden upon one’s Mana Manipulation skill, was beginning to strain Orodan’s.
And Orodan released it before the mana went out of control and beyond the ability of his Mana Manipulation to contain.
[Mana Manipulation 50 → Mana Manipulation 52]
[New Skill (Legendary) → Draconic Fireball 4]
The spell soared upwards towards his target, but Orodan couldn’t even see the sky or the enemy Avatar as his Draconic Fireball covered his entire vision.
He moved to the side to gain some distance and hopefully see where his target was from a better angle which wasn’t directly underneath a mile massive fireball.
Before he could though, it made contact with something in its path, and it exploded.
The training chamber, meant to take Grandmaster-level attacks, was charred quite badly and suffered some serious damage despite still maintaining integrity.
Most of the blast went upwards through the broken ceiling the Avatar created, and the entire sky was awash with flame.
In the distance, at the edges of the blast, there appeared to be some sort of time magic field which prevented it from spreading too far.
His target though… looked enraged.
“Mortal, you’ve spurned my attempts at helping you for the last time. First you snub my Chosen when he merely offers you aid, and now you dare launch filthy dragon magic towards me? I should’ve exterminated more of their kind…”
The Avatar’s eyes glowed ferociously, and a lethal looking spear of divine energy formed in its hands.
Orodan had judiciously called upon the Blessing of Malzim last time whenever he saw that thing make an appearance… but perhaps he could actually tank a strike from one now?
He braced himself, took a stance, and flared Eternal Soul Reactor powerfully while re-applying the shield of Fate Disconnect.
He really wanted to see if Warrior’s Reciprocity could harm a God.
He had yet to face down an Avatar with the skill while the God had fully taken control.
When Arvayne headbutted him, the warrior was still partially in control, thus the man had taken the damage. But now when Ilyatana had fully assumed control of her Chosen?
Orodan was eager to see the result.
Unfortunately, he would have to wait.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
A titanic roar which nearly ruptured his eardrums rang out, and a dragon the size of a mountain suddenly covered the entire sky.
Orodan leapt out of the training chamber through its broken ceiling to see what had happened.
There, he saw the comical sight of a Chosen Avatar…
…being bullied.
“Kultuanir, you wouldassault me unprovoked?!”
“Vile killer, your genocide upon my kind during your mortal days has barely left our minds, and now you dare to fly into our settlement to assault someone?!” the massive mountain-sized dragon roared. Beneath its massive claw was a golden orb, a shield conjured by the Avatar to protect itself from the dragon’s fury. “You Gods have become far too arrogant lately… perhaps I should remind you why dragons are among the oldest of the world’s children? The death of your Chosen One today will be a suitable lesson and recompense for your transgressions.”
The dragon began tightening its grasp and slowly crushing the shield the Avatar had conjured.
Finally, Ilyatana decided enough was enough and let go of the shield to begin launching beams of divine energy towards the dragon.
These beams scored decent damage upon the mighty dragon’s frame, but they weren’t anything decisive. Kultuanir the Frozen Instant. The dragon he was told was the Time Wind’s eldest and most powerful… then acted as per his namesake.
Colossal deluges of chronomantic energy surrounded its gargantuan form, and against all common sense, he saw the ancient dragon speed itself up.
This was how a dragon chronomancer fought.
They didn’t face the same limitations of a human mana pool, and they could perform ridiculous feats such as speeding themselves up by three times despite their massive bodies.
A three times speed increase on an already massive dragon that was also a Grandmaster in Claw Combat, was overwhelming.
Claw strikes which could fell mountains came in at precise angles to utterly shred the body of the Chosen Avatar of Ilyatana. The man’s body was ripped apart multiple times, and only barely recovered in time thanks to the Goddess of Light and Fate’s healing energies running through.
Frankly, Orodan thought his own Harmony of Vitality was superior by now. Even if he couldn’t beat the Avatar in power… he might be able to outlast it if he could withstand its punishment.
It wasn’t that he was superior to Ilyatana, but rather that the Goddess was limited in how much she could do while descending unto her Chosen as an Avatar.
Orodan wasn’t sure where Gods actually resided physically, but he suspected a direct fight against one would leave him squashed like a bug.
Just as the Avatar’s host was about to be torn apart, two more blazing bolts of light tore through the skies to reach Millenium Roost.
One a fiery red, another a luminous green.
Alcianne Rockwood and Arvayne Firesword descended upon the battlefield, their Avatar forms blazing with full power.
“Stop! Mighty Kultuanir we beseech you have mercy!”
Halor pleaded.
A God… was actually begging for clemency?
Just how powerful was this dragon?
“Hmmph! This murderous scum dares intrude upon our home and then you have the gall to ask for mercy on her behalf? Explain why I shouldn’t simply slaughter her here and now. And while you do that, concoct a good excuse for yourselves, lest I decide massacring all three of you is within my interests,” the intimidating dragon threatened, and even the foolhardy Orodan had to admit he instinctually felt wary of the old monster.
“If you kill Ilyatana’s Chosen, the balance of power will be lost. Currently, the Republic and Novarrians both have three Chosen apiece. If you kill him… the Empire will be all too happy to break the deadlock and soon your settlement will come under siege from the Novarrians and their enslaved dragon flights whom you detest so much.”
It was Halor who was explaining all this to the gargantuan dragon.
“While I detest the dirty slaves to the south of us who’ve submitted to the rule of mere humans, my hatred of this genocider of our kind burns even hotter!” Kultuanir spat. “What makes you so confident that I won’t simply uproot my flight and simply leave for less volatile shores? What will you do when your little Republic faces not just the Novarrians, but their enslaved dragons by yourselves? Will the Eastern Kingdoms and the Sapphire Gale bother to aid you then?”
“We are aware that the politics on this continent rely heavily upon dragon allegiances. But you will also need us if you wish to withstand the approaching calamity from the stars Kultuanir. Mighty as you are, your dragon flight cannot flee the influence of the Eldritch forever when the comet descends.”
“So your stance on that abomination has finally changed? What sparked this new course of action?” the dragon viciously asked. “For the longest time, the stance of you ‘Prime Five’ has been to avoid the problem. You and that brute wanted to hole up and meet it here when it came, while the other two in Novarria wanted to flee this world outright. What would your farcical Cathedral do if the humans widely knew that the five of you aren’t as united as you make it seem?”
“That is correct… our course of action has changed since Agathor has come to us with some interesting information. It is true that Eximus and Malzim have a different view on the approaching crisis, and our consensus is not as unanimous as it should be. But that does not mean I am willing to give up on this world.”
Orodan’s head spun at hearing this conversation about divine politics.
He knew that the Novarrian Empire had three Chosen.
One of Eximus, the God of Time. One of Malzim the God of Death.
And one of Ilyatana, the Goddess of Fate.
She was the Goddess that had a Chosen One in all three human nations.
But what he was learning now was that Novarria and the Republic were also somewhat divided on the matter of their Gods.
Despite officially being under the purview of the Cathedral of the Prime Five, not every nation held Chosen Ones of each God.
Eximus and Malzim for example, held weaker influence in the Republic than Agathor and Halor did. The reverse was true for Agathor and Halor in the Novarrian Empire.
On the other hand, Ilyatana who had Chosen in Novarria, the Republic and the Eastern Kingdoms held influence everywhere but from what he heard, her Chosen weren’t as individually strong as the other Gods’.
It also explained why the scheming and manipulative Goddess felt so comfortable committing such overt acts of tyranny. She had Chosen Ones in two other nations, she could recover easier than Malzim and Halor, who only had one known Chosen each.
Her aggressive and expansionist style of being a Goddess made more sense now.
The dragon who had been silent for a few moments, finally spoke once more.
“If your course of action truly has changed, then why have you not deigned to inform us of it? I have received no word from that stripling Cyvrosdyr about the Prime Five offering to aid in the battle against the descending comet,” Kultuanir spoke. “Or is this yet again an example of your famed divine arrogance? Seeking to handle everything yourselves?”
“Enough of this bickering! If you want a fight, old lizard, you shall have it! I tire of this negotiation Halor, let us simply fight a proper battle against this arrogant wyrm!”
“While the three of you together might be enough to kill me… at least one of you will die. And the Sapphire Gale will seek retribution and ensure that your Chosen Ones are slaughtered and your faith eroded,” Kultuanir warned. “You would be handing control of the continent over to Eximus and Malzim. Choose your course of action wisely God of War.”
“Tch… do as you wish Halor. I am leaving. This insufferable dragon annoys me.”
With that, Arvayne Firesword departed in a blaze of fiery red light.
His mentor hadn’t so much as looked at Orodan during that entire conversation.
Agathor’s departure also meant that the balance of power was shifted, with just two Avatars left standing against the incredibly powerful Kultuanir.
Combat wasn’t an option for the Gods anymore. Given how they were acting around the dragon, Orodan suspected it was at least a triple-Grandmaster. And it was a monster, which meant it was naturally more powerful than any mortal triple-Grandmaster of the same level.
It also called old Cyvrosdyr a stripling! How old was this dragon?
Regardless, given Halor’s diplomatic disposition, he didn’t think a fight was about to occur.
“Now that Agathor has departed, I hope you are amenable to a more diplomatic stance mighty Kultuanir?” Halor asked. Alcianne Rockwood also hadn’t spared a single look at Orodan during this entire conversation, signifying that Halor was in complete control for such an important event.
“You have always had the most humility among your brethren Halor… but even your goodwill with us does not erase the grievance this wretch has decided to arrogantly cause,” the dragon spoke. “What did she think would happen when she decided to barge into our settlement to attack someone?”
“I did not even attack him first! It was he who dared cast draconic magic against me!”
Three pairs of eyes suddenly decided to look upon Orodan.
Oh, so now everyone wanted to pay attention to him?
“To be fair, you came in and admitted your Chosen was spying on me,” Orodan spoke. “How else am I to react to an Avatar declaring they’ve taken an unhealthy interest in me?”
“By submitting to my divine authority!”
“Silence worm, your divine authority nearly ended at the tip of my claw,” Kultuanir reprimanded. “Does this child serve you? Is he one of your faithful?”
“He is not,” Halor interjected. “If anything he would be closer to Agathor than any other God given his Favored status with the God of War.”
“Then he owes you no submission to your authority. Drop the matter and answer why you’ve come to my Millenium Roost to cause trouble?”
Orodan had to admit, this old and mighty dragon… was incredibly biased against Ilyatana.
He liked it already!
In all fairness, Orodan had struck first. He couldn’t just use the excuse that he was in a time loop and had bad blood with Ilyatana from prior loops. But it seemed the dragon’s unfavorable view of Ilyatana was influencing its judgement.
It was an absolutely unfair judgement Kultuanir was rendering, but the Goddess of Fate could do nothing but stand there and take it.
What could she do? Try and fight the dragon when her Avatar had nearly been killed? Losing her Chosen pointlessly wasn’t something she could afford.
“I… had simply come to offer this young man some aid. You have my apologies for this transgression Kultuanir.”
“Hmm… groveling like a worm, that is the least you could do,” the dragon spoke. “Now then, tell me about how repulsive your genocide of my kind was eleven-thousand years ago.”
This… was just extra humiliation and face slapping added on top!
To force a Goddess to admit that she was wrong?
“Of course… what happened to the dragons during that time… was quite the tragedy.”
She barely gritted it out, and Kultuanir almost looked as though the dragon wanted to press the issue, but it stopped.
“Feh… barely any recognizance of your own part in such a tragedy, but it shall suffice for now. If only because Halor has spoken on your behalf,” the dragon remarked with a derisive snort. “Now scurry along back to your little temple, I wish to speak with Halor alone.”
Ilyatana didn’t have to be told twice.
While her Avatar’s eyes were burning with barely repressed rage at the indignation… the Goddess complied and immediately sailed to the skies in a burning bolt of golden light.
“Now then, Orodan Wainwright, we have much to speak about. Agathor has informed me of the unique situation you find yourself in. We have matters to discuss before the upcoming journey to Guzuhar.”
Halor spoke, and Kultuanir looked towards him as the dragon would also be part of the discussions.
It had better be quick, as the first day of the Inter-Academy Tournament was tomorrow.
The discussion had proved quite long, with the dragon Kultuanir also demanding explanations at many points.
The old dragon explained that it now understood why Cyvrosdyr was acting so utterly manic six months ago. Apparently, the wintry dragon had gone ballistic and flew about the entire northern continent trying to find answers as to why it suddenly didn’t have the Quest anymore.
When he failed to find answers in Guzuhar, the World Guardian had rampantly flown down to the Time Wind’s settlement and demanded answers of Kultuanir.
Of course, the old patriarch of the Time Wind dragon flight had first disciplined the upstart World Guardian by giving him a good tail whipping, and then sat him down and listened to his concerns.
Apparently, Cyvrosdyr had a bit of a reputation as a rowdy delinquent among the older dragons. He accepted the mantle of World Guardian as he wasn’t as strong as some other dragons and consequently thought the role would grant him power faster.
Which, it did, given that Kultuanir outright admitted that, despite his younger age, Cyvrosdyr was the third strongest publicly known dragon on the continent of Inuan and likely the strongest on the northern continent of Guzuhar where he dwelled.
But Kultuanir and the patriarch of the Novarrian Soaring Flame dragon flight were both stronger than the World Guardian.
And when Orodan asked if there were stronger dragons who weren’t publicly known and about the dragons on Eldiron, the Time Wind patriarch had simply ignored his question.
A good enough sign that the answer was a secret.
Still, it was a fruitful discussion. And Orodan was glad to learn that Cyvrosdyr had been flying about as though a great burden had been lifted since then.
Orodan was informed that an agreement had been reached a while ago among the Prime Five to venture to Guzuhar together.
Agathor and Halor would be coming along in the form of Arvayne Firesword and Alcianne Rockwood. And the Empire would send the Chosen Ones of Eximus and Malzim. Ilyatana would be sending her strongest Chosen from the Eastern Kingdoms as well.
Somehow, Orodan’s actions in this loop truly had resulted in the Prime Five agreeing to come together and send their aid towards combatting the descending Eldritch threat.
Would it succeed? He genuinely didn’t know.
At most, this was five more Avatars being added to the mix, and while they were quite strong, they weren’t any more qualitatively powerful than the Avatars of the Gods of Guzuhar.
As for the matter of the time loops, Kultuanir advised him that even he with his prodigious knowledge in the arts of time had never heard of such a thing. According to the dragon patriarch, the amount of energy required to cause a repeating loop of such scale was beyond any Gods he knew of.
It seemed that the Prime Five now all knew of the time loops, although Halor assured him that the God of Life and Nature would not allow Ilyatana to meddle with him.
Although, Kultuanir did advise him to stop wasting too much time in what he called a ‘little play-school for human children’. If the worst happened, the dragon advised him to simply come to Millenium Roost directly from future loops and display his draconic magic. Casting the Draconic Fireball was apparently an accolade which earned him great respect.
Halor didn’t talk overly much about the time loops, as he’d gotten a good gist of it from Agathor. But the God of Nature and Life did warn Orodan to take things slow and not rush headlong into danger like he was wont to do.
Orodan of course, would not be heeding this advice one bit.
Neither Kultuanir nor Halor seemed to know who was responsible for the time loops.
Halor told Orodan that even Eximus the God of Time did not know how such a thing could be.
Frankly, the only clue Orodan had currently was that strange System message he vaguely recalled seeing before an utter deluge of numbers and System gibberish assaulted his mind.
But he had no idea what it said or what it meant.
“You look so stressed Orodan! Lately you’ve been looking like the world’s on your shoulders,” Mahari spoke as she came to sit next to him in the spectator area of the arena.
They were in the Grand Arena of Marasthus.
No nation would easily send their talents deep into enemy territory, especially given the political tensions between Novarria and the Republic and its Eastern Kingdom allies.
Thus, centuries ago, the decision to host the Inter-Academy Tournament in the border city of Marasthus was made.
It was nominally part of the Kingdom of Shivenduran, southernmost of the Eastern Kingdoms. But to the northwest was the Republic, to the west was the Novarrian Empire, to the south were the dwarves of the Dokuhan mountains and to the southwest across the ocean was the elven continent of Eldiron.
All five academies more or less had a connected path to the border city, and it was consequently an important trading hub.
Unlike most cities deeper within a nation’s territory, Marasthus had teleporters directly connecting to it from all across the world, owing to its important status as a critical interconnected border city.
It was a bustling hub of trade and commerce and all manner of races could be seen walking the streets. It was just slightly less opulent than Karilsgard itself in Orodan’s opinion. And the Eastern architecture was quite dazzling and added a flair of mystery and exotic allure that the locals played up for the sake of tourism.
“I wouldn’t say I’m stressed as much as I am focused on what’s to come,” Orodan replied.
“You’re actually worried about your opponents?” Mahari asked. “I didn’t think you could be worried about anything…”
“Huh? Oh not at all. I’m really looking forward to clashing blades against them all,” Orodan replied. “I’m actually looking forward to facing this elven Avatar the most.”
Mahari could only look at Orodan as though he was an otherworldly creature.
“You’re a weird person Orodan… it’s normal to worry and stress like a human being,” she remarked. “Like, I’m really nervous. What if I embarrass myself and get knocked out right in the first match? What if I freeze up? What if I have an accident?”
“Why would you freeze up? Haven’t you killed enemies in battle before?”
“N-no?”
“Oh… uh… I don’t quite know then,” Orodan honestly replied.
Sometimes he forgot that regular people like Mahari existed, who’d never fought in battle and killed people.
Freezing up before a crowd was just stupidity in Orodan’s opinion, especially during a battle.
Who had time to care about what spectators thought? All that mattered was his foe and how he could face them in the beautiful dance of violence.
“Urgh… you’re terrible at this reassurance thing!” Mahari grumbled. “You’re a mighty warrior, don’t you have some profound wisdom about battle?”
“Well, I don’t know what I could say that would help you right now. When I fight, it’s because I love battle and the adrenaline rush and thrill of violence,” Orodan answered. “Hmm… I guess if you tried to enjoy the feeling of being in a fight? Perhaps the satisfying feeling you get when you crunch your opponent’s nose with your fist? When you’re high from furiously having an exchange of a hundred blows in a second?”
“Orodan… I’m a mage. How am I supposed to experience any of that?” Mahari asked.
“Oh, how about you try enjoying that feeling you get when you utterly overwhelm someone in combat with that impressive volley of spells you cast?”
“I don’t know if I can relate to your feelings on fighting,” Mahari remarked. “I just ride the wave of sheer terror and adrenaline-filled desperation whenever I’m in battle. I use that fear and nervousness to throw out as much magic as I can and hope for the best.”
“That sounds quite inefficient and prone to cause the development of bad habits out of fear,” Orodan remarked. “Then again, I developed the bad habit of rushing headfirst into lethal danger thanks to lacking fear.”
“You’re not helping…”
“I mean, have you considered that fighting isn’t a career you need to stick to? There are plenty of non-combatants around aren’t there?”
“No! I’m tired of being underestimated… I can’t back down when my house keeps looking down on us,” Mahari said in a rare moment of anger. “I also don’t want my brother to have to shoulder any more of the burden of looking after me. Altaj has had to be strong for long enough to maintain our position in the house.”
“Okay, okay,” Orodan said as he raised his hands placatingly. “I can see that whatever your style is, it works for you. So why not just keep doing what you’re doing? You clearly sent that third year student to the healers with your barrage during the qualifiers.”
“I suppose that’s not the worst idea,” Mahari replied. She still looked nervous, but slightly less so. “The fifth match of the round of sixty-four is mine. Will you be watching?”
“Well, considering I have nothing better to do, why not?” Orodan replied. “Can’t exactly train the regular way as we’re not allowed to leave the venue.”
“Thanks Orodan, makes me feel better knowing you’re here because you want to watch my fight,” Mahari dryly replied.
“I thought that was implied when I decided to show up to your qualifier matches.”
She smiled at that, and soon the announcer came on stage.
The man was rather rotund, with a large mustache and a gaudy merchant outfit, but he likely had decent social skills.
The sound was amplified as the man spoke.
“To the good folk of Marasthus, and all our honored guests and competitors who have come from so far away. I welcome you all to the seven-thousand and thirty-second annual Inter-Academy Tournament!”
The cheers were quite loud, as expected. The man’s social skills drew quite the reaction from the crowd.
“Today and over the course of the next two days, we shall determine just which of the five noble academies of our lands have the most brilliant and talented of students! The future of our world can be seen in these aspiring competitors!”
Orodan tuned out the rest of the man’s generic speech. It was nothing noteworthy.
After some more fanfare, the man finally unveiled the official schedule to the public and without further ado, announced the competitors.
“For the first match, we’ll have Jackathius Duxarius from the Novar’s Peak Academy, a talented Elite-level axe and shield wielding warrior. He’ll be facing off against Arashnek Kalasarnam, a saber and shield wielding Elite from Rubywater Academy!”
The announcer then gave the stage to the two competitors who came on.
And of course, where there was a competition… there were commentators.
It was Orodan’s first time seeing these weird individuals who existed purely to sensationalize the event and provide their ‘opinions’ on the fights. From what he heard they all had high levels in the Storytelling skill, which fell under the bardic arts.
Spectators who paid extra could purchase an amulet that allowed them to listen in on the commentary, and people viewing the event through the scrying eye orb feeds in various higher end taverns and venues across the nations were all able to listen in on the commentary.
Orodan hadn’t purchased any such wasteful amulet… but he was unfortunately seated right behind the commentary team in the front row. Headmaster Aldori Vistirian of Bluefire’s school of bardic studies had apparently arranged this seat especially for him.
His fights wouldn’t start until tomorrow, so he was seated here until the eliminator rounds where there would be eight remaining fighters from the lower brackets. The eight who had fought their way up would then face the privileged holders of preferred spots who only began their competition at this stage.
And then, Orodan heard the two speak.
“Two sword and shield wielders? I bet this fight will be incredibly boring as they both hide like cowards! And a saber? Who has time to watch someone using a saber with a shield? At least dual wield them if you’re going to give us an entertaining fight!”
“What my colleague means to say is that the dynamic of this battle is going to be an interesting one! Isn’t that right Mister Mendax? He’s gone ahead of himself as usual and began commentating without even an introduction! Good morning folks! This is Ishtiqran Kalarya along with my partner the audacious Oratius Mendax! We’ll be your commentators for today’s action at the Grand Arena of Marasthus!”
Such was a common dynamic Orodan was told.
For one commentator to be the audacious one that would make people spit their drink with the stupid takes, and for the other to be the level-headed one that would bring more of an analysis to the commentary.
Orodan thought the whole practice was entirely stupid. Who was this fat buffoon Oratius Mendax to provide any commentary on combat when the man likely hadn’t ever fought a day in his life?
At least Ishtiqran Kalarya was a former Elite-adventurer and arena fighter himself.
The match soon began, and the two shield-wielding warriors cautiously circled one another and launched probing strikes.
The ‘probing strikes’ were of course a furious melee exchange that had a hundred blows exchanged a second. This was a fight between two Elite warriors, even if they were students.
“Incredible! What an exchange! It isn’t as boring as you thought Oratius!”
“Nonsense! Look at how amateur their shield work looks! It’s a mere probing phase from the both of them! The saber wielder needs to pick up the pace and get to work with his reach before the axe man closes in and pressures him overly much.”
Was this fat man as uninitiated in combat as he seemed? Despite his brash character and commentary which caused spittle to fly from his mouth… perhaps there was more to the commentator Oratius Mendax than met the eye.
Within the next three seconds, the pace picked up, and it was exactly as Oratius Mendax predicted in the commentary. The saber wielder was too cautious, and refused to be as aggressive as he could be.
The axe wielding warrior however weathered blows and took risks to force the battle to a very close range, the pocket. The ‘pocket’ was where the axe man began to truly shine. His blows began causing abundant amounts of blood to flow from the saber wielder, and soon, a furious usage of the Multi-Strike skill lead to the saber wielder yielding and being defeated.
“Winner! Jackathius Duxarius has defeated Arashnek Kalasarnam to advance to the round of thirty-two! What a fight!”
“Ridiculous… losing to just the Multi-Strike skill? What have the warriors of today’s generation come to?!” Oratius angrily exclaimed. “This Arashnek Kalasarnam has no business fighting in such a tournament! He should stick to clearing out goblin tribes in small villages with that sort of conviction!”
Orodan thought the man was being way too harsh… but he could see why such controversial and scathing commentary was a draw.
“Now that’s a bit excessive Oratius… we can’t all be a prodigy of the sword and shield like the up-and-coming Orodan Wainwright. Speaking of, he’s actually right behind us!”
This was just…
…annoying.
Orodan now understood why Headmaster Aldori had put him here.
Having a top competitor right behind the view of the commentary team’s scrying eye orbs was bound to generate additional interest and drama.
“See?! Even the prodigious Orodan Wainwright is shaking his head in disappointment!”
“Oratius! Mister Wainwright here is capable of delving into an energy well, of course he’d shake his head in disappointment. Given his reputation such a fight must be more boring than watching ice melt!”
What?! Orodan was shaking his head at the commentary team! This sort of narrative twisting was just ridiculous.
Still, it was a rather uninspiring fight between two shield using warriors.
Both of them looked rather nervous to be the very first match of the tournament, but neither had any true fire within them from what Orodan had seen.
These two weren’t real talents. They fought just at the level of Elites. Even if they were decent Elites, they were still rather lackluster compared to some of the Elite-level students who could jump a tier to fight at the Master-level.
Not to mention the handful of powerhouses across the nations who could unfathomably jump two whole tiers to fight.
Previously, Orodan Wainwright was an uneducated bumpkin who didn’t know of the world.
To see even a Master at Eversong Plaza was surprising to the past Orodan.
But now, his eyes had been opened.
With his current strength, the people who spoke to him ended up being Masters, Grandmasters and above.
It wasn’t that they were common. Rather that Orodan’s dealings occurred only with these people nowadays.
A nation had maybe a hundred Grandmasters, but Orodan’s circles brought him into contact with these people frequently.
The world was a big place, and the talents of the tournament could jump a whole tier to do battle.
Of course, jumping two tiers from Elite to Grandmaster was still considered anomalous.
The competitors in the tournament who could do this, Orodan included, were all considered extreme outliers. This year’s tournament was considered quite the incredible one for this reason. It was widely known or theorized that they each held their secrets for being able to do so.
Orodan was popularly seen as calling upon Avatar powers, especially once rumors of his glowing white eyes from Eternal Soul Reactor spread.
Akelrim Vedharna was rumored to have unlocked some powerful bloodline or Blessing. That man was still an unknown and people speculated wildly about his secrets and the strange sword light he used. There was no way he was merely as old as he looked.
Vespidia Aulmalexis was theorized to be a reincarnator. With rumors saying that even the cursed reincarnator Demosthenos Albathrax spoke respectfully to her.
And Othorion Evertree was known to have a Bloodline that allowed him to judiciously call upon divine assistance and freely enter an Avatar state with the help of his God.
These four were the outliers of the tournament and among academy students in general. They were each the only ones in their respective academies who were capable of jumping two whole tiers to fight.
It was among these four that the real competition would be in this year’s Inter-Academy Tournament.
The next two fights were somewhat uninspiring as well.
A pair of mages who hid behind their defensive shields and lobbed spells like the cowardly cravens they were, and a roguish martial type fighting a greatsword wielder who was overwhelmed by her opponent’s speed.
Mahari left her seat after the third fight to go prepare for her own upcoming bout, and Orodan wished her luck.
The fourth fight was pretty quick as a speedy rogue type who could jump a tier was matched against a mage. The poor spell caster never stood a chance as a dagger was held to his throat the second the bell rang.
Finally, it was time for Mahari’s fight, and Orodan ‘politely’ requested the commentators alter their scathing style of talk when speaking about her.
Oratius Mendax happily agreed even as the sweat rolled down his face from Orodan staring him down. He gained a level in Intimidation from that.
“And for this match, we have a student from the famed House Vedharna of the Eastern Kingdoms. Please welcome Mahari Ilya Vedharna, Elite in multiple elements of magic. Her opponent, Gragelda Graniteshield of the Dothrilriver Academy, an Elite… markswoman!”
“Now this is a rare treat, a display of the latest model of dwarven magical rifle… but more likely it’s at least three iterations behind given how secretive the dwarves are,” Oratius spoke. “This should be an interesting match, magical spells versus magical gun!”
Orodan was also looking forward to this battle.
He had heard of the vaunted dwarven magical rifles, but had never seen one used in combat.
Their creation and technology was kept highly secret by the dwarves, partly due to the natural lack of information coming in and out of the Dokuhan mountains. After all, getting a non-dwarven spy inside was incredibly difficult against the xenophobic dwarves.
And partly because the creation of the rifles utilized very high level combinations of engineering, blacksmithing and rune-crafting that only the dwarves had really perfected. The gun, down to the very ammunition it used, was magical.
And the wielder was correspondingly trained in the relevant firearm skills and also had magical skills which bolstered the power of the shots.
The match began, and Mahari immediately used a strange ice spell to rapidly move to the side while simultaneously firing an absolute barrage of her own spells.
It was a good thing that she did, because a roaring magical rifle shot ripped through the space where Mahari’s head was moments ago.
Despite how scared she sounded about fighting earlier… Orodan had to admit, Mahari’s combat instincts were quite good.
The healers and chronomancers were alert and on standby to heal grievous and even fatal injuries as long as they occurred very recently.
On the other hand, the dwarven markswoman was taken aback by the sheer speed casting prowess of the young Vedharna.
Orodan began to realize that the magic rifles required reloading before being fired again.
He’d heard of models that could fire repeating shots, but it seemed this particular model the dwarf was fielding was meant more for incredibly high power single shots.
Meant for dealing with entrenched mages using defensive barriers or warriors who dared to try and tank it head on. But it seemed this model struggled against nimble opponents who could pressure the gunner with their rapidity of attacks while staying agile enough to avoid shots.
Mages trained in the Imperial tradition, which Bluefire and the Novar\'s Peak Academy were a part of… were the perfect targets for rifles such as these. But either the dwarf hadn’t done her research, or had no other alternative, because Mahari was a mage specialized in the speed-casting of the Eastern tradition.
Within fifteen seconds the battle was over.
The markswoman had truly tried her best to stave off Mahari’s magical assault. She used alchemical grenades, a portable pavise shield that unfolded into full size, and when all else failed, attempted to charge forward towards the speed casting mage.
All to no avail, as Mahari’s hands were simply too fast.
Any change in movement pattern was immediately reacted to, and Mahari almost fought like a martial specialist, except with magic and at range in how she instantly adjusted her moves and aim according to her opponent’s actions.
“Winner! Mahari Ilya Vedharna! Now that was an incredible display of Eastern speed-casting! How many people can you see doing that?”
“Wow… such nimble reflexes and combat skills for a mage!”
“Indeed! It’s good to see you recognizing her talents Oratius! I hear Mahari Ilya Vedharna is a personal friend of Orodan Wainwright.”
They were laying it on a little thick, but better than them smearing his friend.
As the match after hers went on, Mahari returned to her seat with a pleased look and an excited smile upon her face.
“You really did weaponize your fear, that was quite impressive,” Orodan remarked and the girl looked downwards which he attributed to shyness and humility. “I can see you becoming quite famous if you keep honing the quickness of your spell hands. Are there other mages back in your home who’re faster than you?”
“Of course,” Mahari replied, trying to brush off the praise. “There are a number of Grandmasters in the Eastern Kingdoms who’re incredibly fast at the Speed Casting skill. I’m only level 77 in it myself. But I also have level 40 in Physical Fitness.”
Level 40 Physical Fitness? For a mage?
Mahari could likely beat enemy mages to death with her bare fists if she got up close. That was ridiculous.
“That’s quite something... once your elemental prowess and mana capacity come upwards to match it… you’d be a terror on any battlefield,” Orodan remarked.
“I don’t know if I want to seek out fights and battlefields like you do Orodan,” Mahari spoke. “For me, just being able to support Altaj and earn respect for our branch of the family is enough for me.”
Orodan accepted that with a nod.
Talented in combat as Mahari might’ve been, she just didn’t seem to like the thought of pursuing adventure and danger like Orodan did. And that was okay.
The world was filled with different sorts of people, and Mahari was one of them.
If anything, the more people he met, the more Orodan realized that it was he who was the outlier. Training the way he did, showing no hesitation in engaging opponents many times his strength? Being willing to die so easily?
Such things weren’t normal.
He wasn’t sure whether it was the time loops that had turned him into this, or if it was his existing character that had merely been amplified by the loops.
But this was who Orodan Wainwright was.
A warrior.
The rest of the Round of sixty-four and the Round of thirty-two went quickly enough.
Altaj won his first fight against an Imperial spellblade who combined lightning magic with the sword. But unsurprisingly enough, lost to Claridin Rockwood in the round of 32, something Mahari had a dangerous look in her eyes upon seeing.
Otherwise, Mahari won her next match in the Round of 32 quite handily as well.
It was against an elven archer, and while the man was quite deadly, Mahari still overwhelmed him with her speed casting and moved onto the Round of 16. Something which greatly shocked her and caused Altaj to look at his sister with indescribable pride in his eyes.
Some participants of note who made it to the round of 16 included Claridin Rockwood, the chronomancer who defeated Mahari during the qualifiers, another dwarven student wearing heavy armor wielding a repeating gun which shredded any warrior who dared approach head on, and a drow from the Goldleaf Academy who was wickedly deadly with his dual daggers and had a vendetta against the two dwarven students he happened to be matched against in both his fights.
Tomorrow would be the Round of 16, and following that the eliminator round where the eight winners from the bottom brackets would face the eight preferred spot holders.
The quarter-finals and semi-finals would also be held tomorrow. With the finals being held the day after.
Orodan wasn’t sure who he would be fighting from the lower brackets, but would try not to embarrass them too badly.
Who knew?
He might actually learn something from fighting against a weaker opponent.
But mainly, he was looking forward to facing off against some of these powerhouses from the other academies that had secrets of their own that also allowed them to jump two tiers.
If Orodan won his eliminator fight against whoever came up from the lower brackets…
…then he was poised to face Akelrim Vedharna in the quarter-finals.
The strange prodigy from Rubywater Academy, and the cousin of Mahari and Altaj.
He had heard of the man’s inexplicable sword light and wished to test it for himself.