A/N: 4.7k words, and it does not contain all of day 3. I'm afraid it would have taken a total of 10k words to get it done. Anyway, the rest of it will be out by Sunday.
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Chapter 41: Day Three
It was particularly sunny on the third day of the prefectural contest. Bustling crowds began pouring into the Colosseum the moment the entrances opened, eager to see today’s bouts, as the entire day was reserved for duels and fencing matches. By the time I got in, the stands were all jam-packed.
A team of stoneshapers had already worked their magic, erecting eight duelling rings in the rectangular hippodrome. Before I went about the duels to enter the second round, I searched through all the notice boards and finally came across the one where the merits of the crafting competition were listed.
As soon as my eyes fell on the top of the list, my expression soured.
Tera Albenius - 19.5 pointsArilyn Arcis O’Ryon - 19 pointsJovana Eiris - 17.5 pointsMarcus Colhe - 17 pointsElsbeth Morwyn Solvyn - 16 pointsMar’e Pariae - 16 pointsEbar Gilon - 15.5 points. . .Orin Gavile - 13.5 Points
Despite the one-and-a-half-point gap to third place, I felt infuriated by the half point I had missed, which ceded the top position to Tera. Even if her formation was structurally better, I had thought I would at least match her numbers. How exceptional must her schematics have been that she beat me by half a mark even though her fabricator lacked an oscillation layer.
“Half a mark is as good as half a margin,” a voice chortled from beside me, “don’t you think so, Mr Second Place?”
I turned to find Tera's gloating face, her lips exulting in her triumph.
A retort came to my tongue off the boot, but I resisted, only saying, “I’ll give you an answer after the contest ends.”
I wished I could end it there, but no, we had to wait to collect our fabricators. Keeping my silence, I watched more artisans from the crafting competition come for the list. Most departed with dispirited shoulders, while the few remaining, even those who had managed to pass the first round, did not seem particularly delighted with their results.
What misconceptions they had about their talent and their competition were laid bare on the merit list. Unlike a combat class, artisans work mostly in isolation. Unless they were part of a larger group like Dragonforge, Anvil, or some other crafting guild, young artisans rarely had the chance to compare their skills with peers.
I could not deny that one test alone could not determine every aspect of an artisan, but it gave a large stride in determining where everyone stood on the path.
“Beth, you passed,” Tera said, walking briskly to hug a petite young woman. “I told you, you’d do just fine. Now look at it, fifth place. I bet you won’t do as well in the duels.”
The fifth-place Elsbeth Solvyn had barely collected herself when she turned towards her and chuckled. “I don’t know if you’re congratulating or insulting me.”
“Why? In duels, Top 8 is still a respectable place.”
“Mhm,” she let out a self-deprecating laugh, “I fear my father will agree with you on this.”
Her expression suggested her father would do more than agree.
“Regardless, thank you,” she said with a radiant smile, her earlier lamentation evaporating in the wind. “Honestly, I believe I’ve gotten a better result than I could have hoped for. But enough about me, I see you took the first place as you had claimed.”
“It's merely the first round. There are ways to go.”
“Then I will withhold the congratulations for now.”
Then, without waiting to collect her fabricator, Elsbeth made her way out. “See you later, Tera.”
“Wait,” Tera shouted after her. “Aren’t you going to get your fabricators back?”
“Later,” Elsbeth said, waving her palm. “I have some duels to prepare for.”
“Um, good luck.”
“To place fifth in the whole prefecture without having access to enchanting essence,” I muttered as the departing figure rounded a corner, “it's quite remarkable, isn’t it?”
“It’s something,” Tera muttered absent-mindedly. “If she were a pure enchanter, she could have given me some real competition.”
I hummed in agreement, ignoring the slight jab at my expense. Having a higher mental faculty certainly helped, as did having an abundance of Will. However, there was still an unimaginable gulf between engraving with foreign essence and using your own essence.
Taking myself as an example, I was sure I would do fine if I took Fractal Sight out off the equation, but I feared my result would not be any better than hers if I removed enchantment essence.
“Don’t you have duels to prepare for too?” Tera asked, eyeing me.
A quick peek at my wristwatch said there was still at least a quarter of an hour I could wait. After that, I would have to hope I would not be called in the first batch of duelists if they took that much longer to deliver our articles.
Thankfully, Master Luc came in just a couple of minutes later with an attendant pushing a trolley filled with our delivery.
“Alright, everyone, line up according to your rank. This won’t take long.”
Only the top sixteen were given the opportunity to get their fabricators back. The rest had to pay a fee of twenty gold Leafs, the cost of the materials, to acquire their craft.
“May I ask where I failed to miss half the mark, sir?” Tera asked with the utmost courtesy. She did not even glance at the fabricator the attendant handed her.
Master Luc cast her a glance. “Only Aurine and the Oracle know,” he said. “I gave you full marks, so you have to ask her.”
He handed me my disc before asking, “You have something to ask, Journeyman Arilyn? Unlike Tera here, I did cut half a mark from you.”
“Where have I erred, sir?” I asked tentatively.
“You haven’t erred anywhere per se. The rune formation is perfect, beyond any fault. It’s just that its efficiency fell short by half a mark compared to Tera’s.”
“I see,” I said, though I duly noticed that Administrator Aurine had given both Tera and me the same mark.
“If nothing else, you’re dismissed.”
As I headed along the inner pathway lit with fluorescent lights, my eyes tracked Tera, who took the other route that led her out of the colosseum. It seemed she did not have any games to participate in today.
After deliberating for a moment, I flew towards her.
“Wait, can I get a look at your fabricator?”
She turned with a brilliant smile of hers, albeit a sardonic one.
“Why?” she asked. “Are you perhaps going to steal my schematics?”
“What? No. I can easily design a similar schematic just looking at the form of your fabricator.”
The platinum-haired girl snickered, clearly not believing me.
I groaned internally, finding nothing to explain myself. Without Fractal Sight, perhaps it would have been difficult without tinkering with the actual formation. But even with all the protection in place, a few gazes with Fractal Sight would allow me to imitate the formation essentially one to one.
As for designing something from scratch, it would take a bit of effort and time, nothing too outstanding.
“Fine. You can take it.”
I sighed in relief, but evidently Tera was not finished.
“In exchange, give me yours.”
That was an easy exchange to make. I handed her the stack of discs unceremoniously.
“You must really be unconvinced of your loss, huh?” she said, stowing my fabricator away in her blessed stone, which I reckoned was her necklace, though there were a couple of other ornaments with purple gemstones on her. “I’ll return them to you during lunch. Don’t be late. I have booked a table at Aurum Osmanthus.”
A frown crept onto my brow. With Mum not reminding me, I thought the plan for lunch together was off the table. Well, I was not one to decline good food. The name alone suggested it would be some fancy restaurant with lavish dishes.
So far into the competition, I had been refraining from eating anything spicy or difficult for my stomach, fearing it might have a detrimental effect on my ability to perform in the competitions.
I knew I was being paranoid for no reason. With so many points in Adaptive Physicality and Fortitude, it would take pure poison to put me on bed rest. But for the contest, I did not want to take any chances.
A rebelling stomach could just as well turn my focus upside down, though I had not had such issues in ages. It was only four-and-a-half days more. I could endure tasteless, hard breadcrumbs, much less Mum’s healthy dishes.
Being free of all her tasks with a baby in her stomach, she was cooking up something fresh and healthy three times daily.
My uncanny caution was also why I had not fully committed to advancing last night, barely paving the way halfway there to leave the other half for today.
Though she did not admit it, I knew for certain Mum approved fully.
There were merely four bouts for me to fight today, so the willpower drain would likely be only a fraction compared to the crafting competition. Yes, aura did act like an extension of the Will, but the toll was much lighter. As they say, destroying something is always easier than building it from scratch.
Whistling my way to the Noble class dugout, I secluded myself in a corner, inspecting the rune formation in the plates one by one as the duels finally began.
Cassius came to greet me once before departing for his duel. Just then, I thought I glimpsed a familiar face in the crammed dugout, but the figure of the scrawny swindler faded among the mass of young boys and girls.
I was sure I could track him down if I put my mind to it, but something else held my gaze.
Regrettably, I had to pull my attention from the fabricator, as my first bout was about to begin.
Nobody was surrendering easily today.
My foe greeted promptly, “William Bullman, Decurion of the seventeenth regiment of the seventh Legion.”
Immediately, information on one named William Bullman came to mind. He was a speedster who had come straight from the legionary ranks to participate in the tournament. Not only that, he had borrowed a couple of instruments, one defensive and one offensive, from the legion.
Looking at his equipped armour and blade, it seemed true.
And I thought I would only meet scrubs after my display against Melina.
“Arilyn of Karmel.” I took my stance, eyeing my opponent.
Well, it was better this way. I had not got to practise my sword much the other day.
As soon as the whistle was blown, William vanished. His figure blurred through the wind, lunging and thrusting his duelling cane at my right eye at the astonishing pace of a speedster.
With a whoosh of air, I took a step back and appeared a dozen paces away, my opponent’s duelling cane meeting only an afterimage.
The speedster was not easily dissuaded. He chased after my form, his blade moving in a tyrannical arc, as though compensating for the clumsy implementation of his aura.
William’s entire effort seemed to be spent on his movement, reaching the swiftest speed he possibly could while barely maintaining his aura through the blade.
Even still, a noble-class weapon could cleave through human flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter. While my hide was tougher than most humans, the blade William was holding was a class above as well, capable of straightening aura and grinding it through a resonance of sharpness.
But above the blade, I feared the referee. It would not be too difficult for a speedster to brush his blade or his aura.
Ultimately, I could only rely on sword sense, which made evading his flurry of swings half as easy, while the other half was due to my levitation boots.
“Cheater!” swore William, as if he were not carrying a couple of prestigious pieces of his own.
I hid a smile.
With rune imprint, I might not be able to match his speed, but I could compete easily with sword sense showing the way. But I did not reveal that ability just yet.
Even with aura alone, I believed I could win the duel. Perhaps not in a clear-cut fashion, but wasn’t that what I was looking for?
I had sparred with Priam many times. Excluding a select few, his swiftness had always tested my physical limits. Their speeds were quite identical. Perhaps William beat him by a small margin, but that should not pose a threat of defeat.
Master Kaius had alluded to something fascinating after delivering the unnamed sword. There was more to being a True Swordsman than merely having sword sense and an otherworldly sword aura.
My control of both was still rather clumsy, but it showed the path towards the realm of True Swordsmanship.
To temper my blade, I had to disregard everything else but the blade itself.
As I evaded all the swings, the boots matching his speed, my opponent charged relentlessly. His entire body and blade swung as a whole, though not in any profound way, my father was capable of. Each strike merely carried the full momentum his body could muster.
It took a stupid amount of nerve to push your body through such intrepid movement when none of your attacks was landing true.
Honestly, it was a little endearing.
It was like Eran saying, if I make it fast and strong enough, I’ll win.
Setting aside the levitation boots, I met him head-on.
Without sword sense, perhaps it would have been one lackadaisical stab at something unnecessary. Despite his speed, the red strings of attacks were always straightforward, with his strategy being the same: if the sword is fast enough, nobody can stand in its way.
Unfortunately, while it was swift, the straightforwardness gave me adequate time to evade, dodge, and duck under all his swings.
My movement could not match his, but with that lacklustre swordsmanship, William was giving me all the time I needed to prepare for the perfect moment to move away.
Even when he tried to feint his blade, my sword parried it away, neither of us winning a single point so far.
“You were saying something,” I said, my eyes narrowed as I tracked his movement.
William ground his jaw and stepped back, sweat beading on his temples.
Instead of readjusting his strategy, the youth doubled down on his style, still channelling his gift to its limits, striking at a berserking pace.
Let’s see who is faster, you or my sword aura.
In my eyes, his figure was only a silhouette, with red strings of trajectory cutting towards my neck and lower body. As I adjusted my stance to Tidal Wave, his blade fell towards my lower body. I lunged into the air, half-flipping over his head, as the unnamed blade surged with an aura of sharpness.
Translucent blade light flashed towards the dissipating figure in my first attempt at offence. William almost, almost avoided the blade, but the aura surged forth, smashing into his back and throwing him to the very edge of the duelling ring.
“Two points to number 188,” the referee called.
The speedster returned, mounting a defensive stance, eyeing the blade in my hand. But noting that I was not charging for more points, he asked, “What class is your blade? It’s a prestigious piece, isn’t it?”
“Why?” I said, quite taken aback. “It’s merely a common sword.”
“I will eat my boot. I don’t believe you,” William sneered.
I was speechless. That was not even my full strength. Was it really so hard to believe that aura could be used as such?
Before I could clear his apparent ignorance, William took advantage of the moment, thinking it a lapse in my concentration. I suspected the only way he could rid himself of that ignorance was by meeting my blade.
With a surge of aura, I ducked under his sword with Whispering Wind. The sword steps could have been even swifter, perhaps matching a speedster if I had managed to learn Aura Resonance of Swiftness. That art was lost on me now, as were Aura of Heaviness and the other elemental resonances.
For the battle at hand, I only concentrated on sword sense. I was not infallible, and true to his strategy, William did come menacingly close to earning a couple of points. Unfortunately for him, my free hand had been surging with a strand of sharpness aura, ready for the onslaught.
With a flick of my finger, a beam of sword light surged into William’s chest. It barely had a tenth of my aura force, lacking the true mastery of Sharpness, but it managed to displace the speedster from the solid ground.
A straight line of silver string shot from my blade and connected to William’s right shoulder, giving me an absolute chance to strike.
Even if he tried to evade, it would fall upon his vital points, calling the strike home, but I was just having fun. I did not get many chances to push my sword sense to the limit these days. Against Father, I failed to even see through half of his moves.
Putting my body under the line, I evaded and deflected all the speedster’s swings. Unless I could lock his swing, meeting his strike head-on was pure lunacy, as a speedster could invert his strike off the bat before I could parry.
William did move to a more defensive front, fully convinced that the blade would end the duel as soon as he could land a blow. On one occasion, I had to flare all my aura to deflect as William came dangerously close to striking true.
“How are you doing this?” William was at his wits’ end. “I’ve never seen any outfit applying aura like that. Aren’t your wards getting in the way?”
The bout had gone on long enough that William seemed visibly thinner, his face coated with sweat. Even I was seething in it.
Unfortunately, it could not go on for much longer, as the referee called out that only two minutes remained in our duel. If a victor was not decided, he would call it a draw.
That was when I bludgeoned William with an onslaught of coercive aura. I shot after the disoriented speedster, landing two swift blows and ending the match in a matter of seconds.
William fell on his back. The defensive formation of his armour still held, but a look of utter befuddlement filled his gaze as he looked up at me, still unable to quite believe what had transpired in that second.
He opened his mouth to speak, but it stayed open until the referee called my triumph.
William ground his jaw and carried himself out with as much swiftness as he could muster.
[Way of Evasion VIII (5005/5000) is complete.]
[+6 to Uncommon Reflexes.]
[Way of Sword Sense IV (1000/1000) is complete.]
[+4 Enhanced Aura.]
I returned to my spot and brought out Tera’s ward to study. I detested admitting it, but her schematic truly beat me in efficiency. I suppose that was to be expected from someone who came from one of the two long-standing entrepreneurs of craftsmanship.
Dragonforce probably had tens of artisans researching runes and schematics at every moment.
While her formation did have me beat in essence efficiency, there were some tiny, minuscule instabilities in her actual rune formation. Eleven of the twelve formations were picture-perfect, but the last one had some unevenness in its form.
Still, it fell into the excellent category.
Her craft gift allowed her to imprint a script formation all at once, so the only reason such an error could occur was probably due to insufficient Will.
There was nothing extraordinary in my next duel. Despite trying to prolong it to test my sword, I won it within a couple of minutes, six to nil.
The standby referee alerted me that my next duel would commence after the lunch break.
There was still time for that when, on the other side of the Colosseum, the common-class fencing competitions began.
I found Eran with his back against the wall, alternating between watching the competition and reading through the documents I had given him last night.
Storing the fabricator, I joined him.
“You will get neck pain at this rate.”
“Not with a hundred points in fortitude,” Eran chuckled, “no.”
“Have you had any fights yet? Sorry, I was busy with something.”
“Once,” he said, lifting his head from the notes. “I won six to four. My opponent had an uncanny instinct. He saw through all my moves, start to end.”
“Then how did you win?”
My friend grinned, sparing me a look. “With a relentless spree, of course.”
“So, you swung your blade without rest until his body could not keep up,” I stated the obvious. “Well, that was as good a strategy as any.”
The fencing competition was supposed to showcase the best of swordsmanship, to demonstrate the pure mastery of the art of fencing. Unfortunately, while external fabricators were disallowed in the competition, Gifts were open for utilisation, meaning the contest still leaned towards those with more advantageous gifts.
A speedster would always have the most advantage, even if their fencing capabilities were lacking, merely on the merit of their accelerating pace.
“I watched your duels,” Eran said. “Are you planning on going through the entire competition without showing off shaping?”
I immediately shushed him with a finger on my lips. Noting that nobody was paying attention to us, I replied, “As far as I can go without it.”
Even with my aura growing stronger by the day, I was not vain enough to believe I could win the entire competition with my aura alone. The levitation boots were already an alternative form of shaping.
With my current mastery, it would be quite miraculous if I could reach the top eight with aura and swordsmanship alone.
Unless, of course, I became a true swordsman.
Collecting my thoughts, I returned to reality, eyeing the notes in Eran’s hand.
“Here, I will help you prepare.”
“There’s no need,” Eran argued. “You have yours to prepare for.”
“It's fine, I’m free until lunch break.” I practically had to seize the pages from his hand until he relented.
Eran scrunched his nose. “How are you going to help?”
“Quizzing, of course,” I said. “Say, what is your strategy against someone like Grant Fisher?”
“Who’s that again?” Eran smiled unabashedly.
I glared at him.
“Right, he’s with a Strength gift,” Eran acquiesced, “so that means his movement will be swift and his blade tyrannical. Mhm, I’d just let him take his course before taking offence when he’s running out of steam?”
There was nothing wrong with this plan per se, but I asked, “What would you do if Grant saw through your strategy and adjusted to it?”
My best friend tilted his head, ruminating.
“I’ll try to read his movement and adapt accordingly. If he slows down, I’ll charge up to not leave him time to rest.”
“What about someone like Oleya Silhorn?”
“The speedster? I have seen her. She’s not as fast as Priam at Noble Class, but. . . I’d hope I do not meet her early. But if I do, I’ll try to smash her onto the floor, make her disoriented in any way possible and as early as possible. There’s half a chance of it working.”
Eran let out a forlorn sigh, knowing that even if he managed it once, he would not manage it a second time.
“You should have joined the duels,” I muttered. At least there, Eran could have fought to his last breath.
“It would not be much better there,” Eran mumbled back, though his palms clasped into fists.
We carried on with the quizzing, and I figured there was not much I could give Eran other than moral support. He had good strategies planned against any possible opponent, but as always, without a dependable gift to rely upon, he would falter before someone like Oleya Silhorn.
The bell called for a recess for noble-class duels, but I chose to stick around at least to watch Eran fight once, when a familiar figure drifted by.
Melina slowed down upon noticing me. There was a younger boy in her tow, the resemblance in facial features alluding to a close relative, likely a younger sibling.
“What are you doing here?” the girl asked, pulling a clumsy lock of hair behind her ear.
“Why? Nobody said I can’t be here?”
Her probable brother snickered, which earned him a glare as he promptly shut up.
Knowing a bit about her temper, I decided to be truthful.
“I was helping my friend,” I said, alluding to Eran and the notes in my hand, “prepare for his fencing duel.”
The girl nodded, and then her eyes contracted as her gaze fell on the papers. She had a rolled-up set of notes in her hand as well.
“I’m much of the same,” she said, before punching her younger sibling on the shoulder. “Sadly, my brother here does not appreciate it at all. I had spent half of my month’s pocket money to buy him information on his competitors, but this blighted fool does not even care to take a glance.”
“They are bogus anyway,” her brother said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “A real battle is decided on the battlefront.”
Melina pinched his ears. “Don’t quote something you hardly understand.”
“What is there to not understand? A clumsy wind shaper like you will never comprehend what true battle is like.”
Melina had no qualms about leaking her aura and a bit of her essence, freezing her sibling in place. He could only grumble something about letting him advance to Noble Class.
“Don’t worry, when you do, I won’t have to hold back so much either.”
I noted the noble girl carefully, especially the slack control of her aura. It was not as loose the other day when we fought.
It was as if. . .
Then it connected.
“You have advanced?”
“Wha. . .” her mouth hung open, eyes glaring in astonishment. “How did you know?”
“She had drunk a superior essence tonic after crying all night after her defeat,” the boy said, shifting beside me as though changing sides. “Mother was livid at her recklessness.”
“It was completely safe!” Melina claimed. Then her gaze drifted towards me. “Wait till I meet you in the duel again.”
“I hope you do.” I nodded.
“Solas help me, you’re so infuriating.”
The boy snickered once again. “Well, I'm Mirian, by the way, and I hope you'll get to beat my sister once more.
"Arilyn," I introduced before turning to Eran.
“Um, I think my name is called,” he said, running towards the duelling ring on the rear flank.
I watched as my best friend lunged up into the ring, unsheathing his blade against another boy named Silas Roenar.
Swiftly perusing the notes, I found the information on Eran’s opponent. Silas Roenar came from a minor noble house, and his gift gave a boost to his wide perception. Nothing too outstanding that Eran could not overcome.
“Your intelligence seems to be the same as I got,” Melina said with a frown.
I lifted my eyes from Priam’s duel to spare her a glance, an odd thought coming to mind.
“Out of curiosity, how much did it cost you?”
“Mine contained information on noble-class categories too,” she said, “so the price is a bit steeper. But good thing I knew the broker for some time and he got me a big discount, costing only sixteen gold Leafs.”
“Hmh, by any chance, is the broker you mentioned a scrawny youth?”
“Oh, you mean Leaf? Did you buy the intelligence from him as well?” Melina asked brightly, a look of pride exuding from her expression.
Black lines appeared on my forehead and I stared at the girl.
Looking at her proud and innocent face, I could not bring myself to break the news to her.
“What’s with the look on your face?” she asked. “He did not give you the discount, did he?”
I shook my head.
Melina giggled, taking it as her win.
“His manner can help some work, and perhaps a little too fixated at money, but Leaf is not bad.”
“Let’s just watch the fight.”