Chapter 45: Foresight
The draws for the top 64 had finally been publicised early in the morning of the fourth day, and Cassius could not say he had not seen it coming. It was a gift of his. He had a good feeling going into the competition, despite knowing he had little chance of winning it. But Cassius was happy with the small wins he could get here and there.
There were nine contestants among the top 64 who went into the second round undefeated. Among those nine, only three had passed without even losing a single point to an opponent. One was young Marnas Nerva, coming from the prestigious House Nerva. He was obviously the people’s favourite and the contender to win the duels altogether.
Compared to Marnas’s spectacular duels, where he displayed various aspects of shaping, sending the audience into utter joy, Elsbeth Solvyn had been far less eye-catching. All of her bouts had ended in an instant. She merely gave her opponents a look or two, and they would drop down, losing consciousness. It only added to her fame that the house she came from was held in even higher regard, not to mention the wealthiest in the empire, besides Anvil and the imperial House.
The third person was obviously him, though none of his duels had been as easy-going as the others. Perhaps the observers would disagree, but Cassius knew how close he had been in some of those duels. It might seem he had full control of the battles, having gone through iterations of them in his mind. However, he was fully aware that even a single lapse during the actual battle would throw all his preparation down the drain. Thankfully, none of that happened, and he, Cassius Aalona, a commoner, had shot up to match the records of the prodigies from high patrician houses.
He had help, of course, but merely in the preparation stage, as the old man had drawn a clear line against cheating. He mentioned something to do with flaws in his path and potential. Cassius clearly did not understand, despite his gift letting him glimpse into potential futures.
One would argue a gift like his Foresight would be enough to win him any fights he was in if he already knew what his opponents were up to. But there was a huge chasm between knowing something and being able to overcome it. Not to mention, his gift only let him see seconds into the potential future—emphasis on seconds and potential. It did not help that Cassius was never a born fighter. Only through meticulous preparation did he have a chance of going further into the competition.
Honestly, Cassius would be satisfied with reaching the top eight and getting a piece of custom gear from Dragonforge. He would be getting the full mantle of an iron knight once he made it into the prestigious class, but one could never go wrong with one more fabricator. Besides, the iron knights were certainly no Order of Emberleaf, and it showed in both their practice and funding.
Additionally, it would not be that easy for him to reach the prestigious class. His path followed a more unconventional route compared to augmenters, shapers, crafters, or the rarer paths like Truthseeker and Dreamweaver. It was quite an ordeal. Without the old man showing the way, Cassius would not even be able to reach the noble class any time soon. Or even be alive.
Leaving those worries for the future, Cassius noted the opponent he would be fighting and was about to leave when a familiar figure with striking red hair crept to his side. Arilyn did not seem to even notice him, his eyes drawn to the ladder in silent contemplation, perhaps calculating his way to the top.
Once again, Cassius was reminded of the strange amount of fate congealing on the younger boy beside him. The old man had already advised him to steer clear of anyone with such a convergence of fate if he wanted to stay out of trouble. But Cassius was too curious to just let it go. He had never seen someone with such a staggering number of strings of fate knitted around their psyche. And he had met fabled knights, a Grand Magus, and even an epic-class grand knight from his order, yet none of them had a tenth of such complexity in their fates.
The first time they met, Cassius did not even have to open his gaze to feel the strangeness, but when he did look, he almost had a seizure, if only saved by the old man’s timely intervention. Thousand upon thousand strings of fate linked onto the younger boy, inseparable, knitting together in cascading colours, weaving into something perhaps only the Great Weaver of Fate could untangle, or the Oracle herself. But Cassius knew none of them personally. The old man was no help either, although he reckoned the parasite living in his essence seed had seen much farther than he did. The geezer was simply not accustomed to sharing, for only the Oracle knows how many secrets he was still keeping to himself.
With the same curiosity still thrumming in his heart, Cassius peered to find who Arilyn’s next opponent would be.
Marie Eole Daenerys.
Cassius knew little about her, other than her being a shaper coming from House Daenerys. The following match-up pulled at his heartstrings. It was most likely against his buddy, Kelvin. Well, if they both triumphed in their first duel, which they probably would.
Unlike Cassius, Kevin was a born fighter. He might lack a bit in common sense and cunning, but he more than made up for it with overwhelming force. It was also the reason why they made such a good team. As for the boy beside him, Cassius need not be a fortuneteller to glimpse some of the power he was concealing. Arilyn had joined the second round undefeated, and not only that, he had been the most dominant in those bouts. And the only reason Arilyn gave away one point was because of his unlikely match-up against a windshaper.
As he was about to pat Arilyn on the shoulder, a grisly voice thrummed in his mind.
"Do I have to warn you once more, boy?"
“Ah,” Cassius returned a surprised noise, though that did not seem to work on the old spirit living inside his essence seed. “I thought you were going to keep sleeping for the remainder of the tournament.”
“I was sleeping,” the voice said telepathically, “then I noticed you tempting fate.”
Right, we are connected, Cassius thought to himself. If I die, he will die as well.
Well, at least that was what that parasite told him. Cassius obviously did not believe him completely, but there was perhaps some truth in that. Why else would the old geezer go out of his way to save him not once, but twice? Out of the goodwill of his heart? Cassius would rather eat his boot than believe him. He likely needed something from him, other than obviously feeding on his essence.
“What are you even worried about?” Collecting his thoughts, Cassius asked, “It is not like I am trying to build a blood feud with him.”
A thrum of something prickled against his mental wall. His snort still felt inhuman, like it came from a large animal, despite their familiarity.
“Trust me, you won't need to make an enemy out of him for your life to turn into an upheaval. A fate like his is akin to an incarnation of a storm. Get a step or two close to it, and you will be pulled into it without knowing. Then the only option you would be left with would be going with it or against it, and perhaps even the Oracle would be stumped to figure out the correct choice there.”
Cassius’s eyes widened like saucers. He had been fishing for some hints out of the old man, but even he had not thought he would get such an insinuation. He looked at the younger boy, who was furiously taking notes with a zeal in his eyes. He looked harmless.
“Well, I’m merely trying to converse,” Cassius repeated. “Ignoring him now would simply be impolite.”
“You have already formed a string,” the voice said in his disparaging tone. “Don't come crying to me later.”
Cassius was not worried about fate strings. They were easy to form. Converse with a stranger for a minute, and you would form one. Unless you cultivated a deep relationship, be it through friendship, matrimony, or a blood feud, those connections tended to fade away in due time. At least that was what Cassius had observed throughout his life. If it was different for the boy beside him, then that would truly prove a great learning experience for him. And a catalyst.
After all, that was how he advanced on the path. A Fateweaver did not require cultivating essence unification, nor were they required to defeat demons to advance. It was through observing the converging fate of the world and influencing it that they ascended. And Cassius had been observing it all from a young age, hardly ever attempting to alter it.
He had only nudged Melina Merrywind into Arilyn’s path, and it had already formed into such a stable connection between them. He did not even try to bind them in any form.
Observing the influence alone endowed a positive incline to his path. A few more pushes and nudges here and there, and perhaps he would advance to the prestigious class in no time. But the old man had warned him against playing with those fate strings. He was still too weak, and any backlash from it could put him in a worse state than the parasite living in his body.
“You can leave, you know?” the younger boy said, still furiously scribbling in his notebook. “It's not like I'm some noble and will take offence at your disregard for etiquette.”
“Oh, by how furiously you are taking notes, I thought you didn't notice me.”
“I am more perceptive than people give me credit for,” Arilyn said, finally sparing him a look.
Cassius arched an eyebrow at the red-haired boy, who was as tall as him. Give him a year or two, and he would already have overtaken him by a foot or two. He noted Arilyn was not simply denoting his immediate opponents, but all the possible and likely foes he would meet in the competition.
Watching him so concentrated, Cassius could not help but quip, “How are your chances looking against me?”
Arilyn stowed away the notebook and craned his neck. “We won't meet until it is top four, but you'll likely have to face Paximus before that. How do you think your chances are there?”
Cassius blinked at the boy. He expected a barbed comment from Arilyn, perhaps even a humble answer or a brag, not a serious consideration. If only he could spare some of his foresight for conversations like this, but no, he had two duels to fight today, and they would need his fullest attention.
“Poor,” Cassius answered truthfully. Attempting to change the topic to the other party once again, he added, “By the way you sound, you seem confident about your chances to reach top four.”
The red-haired enigma rested his palm on the pommel of his sword, a slow stream of aura flooding into the blade. “Hopefully,” he added, imitating Cassius.
The two of them strode towards the antechamber reserved for noble-class duelists. Cassius hesitated before saying, “Well, it won't be mere hope if you display all the powers you're hiding.”
Arilyn faltered on the path. A wary look crossed his expression, but it swiftly changed to a quizzical one. Despite his younger age, he was a sharp one.
“Well, everyone is hiding a trump card or two,” Arilyn said offhandedly, eyes towards the path. “I'm sure you have a secret or two to keep as well.”
Ain't that the truth, Cassius thought.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Even though they rested quite close to one another in the antechamber, he did not break into conversation. His friend Kelvin came to say hello. It did not go unnoticed, the perceptive glances Arilyn shot Kevin's way.
As the duels began, both of them left to observe the bouts. For the round of 64, they had divided the coliseum into two parts, having two duels concurrently. That gave at most half an hour for Cassius to prepare for his duel. He sequestered himself in a corner, closed his eyes, and began preparing in silence.
His gift of prescience did not make him omniscient. Far from it. That was what all the preparation was for. He had done some every night before sleep and minutes before each fight. It had almost become a habit.
His eyes only opened a second before his badge buzzed. Then he heard his name being announced. Standing up, Cassius stretched his limbs and cracked his neck joints before walking into the Hippodrome.
His opponent was already there, but Cassius did not even spare him a look, his eyes staring at the floor as he sucked in a deep breath. He had concentrated so much that he barely heard his opponent introducing himself.
“Cassius, from the Order of Iron Knights,” he stated, finally lifting his head, now staring piercingly at Luka Mooer.
Cassius unsheathed his sword. He had rehearsed the fight four times. Even if his opponent pulled up a surprise mid-battle, Cassius would be ready with his foresight to neutralise it. Thankfully, his opponent was not a shaper, so there would not be too many of those surprises.
His opponent was a shield-bearer with a defensive augmenter build. He could not expect it to end swiftly.
To triumph, he had to either get a forfeit or make his opponent unable to fight. With that in mind, Cassius fell into the duel exactly as he had choreographed.
Defensive warriors were cautious by nature, but the boy he fought seemed to be on extra guard against him. None of the battles Cassius had fought so far had been a spectacle that would give the impression that others needed to be guarded against him. But then again, he had won them all without losing a single point. There were some things to be cautious of, though that did not help in Luka’s favour.
Since there were no points in the equation, Cassius allowed him to strike him a few times to give him a false sense of accomplishment. Once his caution wore off, Cassius struck with one vicious blow after another, saddling him onto the ground, his blade pinning at his neck.
The ward flared, but Cassius had already drawn a line of blood from his neck.
“I surrender,” the boy cried.
Cassius withdrew his blade and finally released a breath. The duel had gone smoother than he had imagined. That meant the next one was unlikely to be.
Kelvin slapped him on the shoulder once he returned to the antechamber, congratulating him, whereas Cassius noticed the red-haired boy staring at him with... intrigue?
Cassius arched a quizzical eyebrow when he heard the boy ask, “You can see it too, don't you? Those strings...”
His heart skipped a beat, unsure how the redhead had already figured out his secret. He had not even shared it with Kelvin, and they were friends forged in battle. Wait, he said “too”. Did that mean he could see the strings of fate as well?
Instinctively, he pushed his essence to alert the old man. Then, finally, a thought crossed his mind, and he opened his Foresight.
A sense of relief thrummed in his heart, noting his secret was still safe with him. Thankfully, he managed to maintain a level expression, but inwardly, he was confused as hell.
What in blighted hell is a sword sense?