Elydes

Chapter 390 - Combat and Cleanup

Chapter 390 - Combat and Cleanup

The verdant field swayed, rippling with blasts of magic, yet blades of grass remained largely unbothered. Where Fire and Ice burned a patch, weeds regrew, lush and green. Where Earth and Plants tore them, the ground rolled and smoothed over, new sprouts budding over the stones. No spell ever damaged more than the superficial layer, and even that, rarely.

A grid of chalk lines divided the grounds into dozens of longer dueling rings. At opposite ends, pairs of students faced each other. Along the edges, the crowd watched and gossiped, waiting for their turns.

Just get on with it.

Kai flexed his knees, his posture solid and ready. Not that he could leave the circle where he stood. Seven bubbles floated behind him, each large as a basketball, swaying with an iridescent sheen on their surface. They weren't soap bubbles, but not much harder to burst.

His feet might as well be glued to the weeds. Swirling threads of mana condensed in his veins. Fidgety and restless. The tingle spread from his fingertips up his forearms and biceps, like electric goosebumps.

Such nonsense rules.

Across from him, Kastor Forlow stared ahead with leisure focus. His lips moved, yet no sound escaped the wards. A vicious smile finally announced the young man had finished his invocation.

Thanks for the tip.

Crimson flames roared to life, swelling and swirling until the crackle covered the murmurs of the spectators attracted by their bout. Students usually rationed their reserves to last the class. Kastor didn’t seem to care. As the fire condensed and darkened, the miniature sun surged forward. The burning wave branched into a rain of meteors to obliterate the fragile bubbles.

Despite the protection wards, Kai felt the heat on his skin. Mana rushed through his channels with scalding power. Shards of compacted stone shot forward. Each aimed to destabilize one of the incoming projectiles. The dark crimson flames swallowed them. Unlike their previous bouts, none exploded prematurely, though two veered off course, and three more slowed.

That left about a dozen.

Shit.

Panes of ice shielded the bubbles floating higher, angled to deflect the fireballs. At his side, the ground rippled; two mounds of earth and vines rose to shield the lower targets.

Tears clouded his eyes from the heat and light. A second volley of spikes shot to intercept, disrupting two more. For a heartbeat, he thought his preparation might be enough.

Then, the first meteor hit.

The roar of fire deafened his ears. Layer upon layer of ice shattered in a spray of sizzling droplets. The bulwark took two flaming shots before bursting into a shower of dirt and charred weeds.

By intent or accident, a fireball drifted toward him. Kai could just shield his face, continuing to feed mana into his shield. The fireball hit him like a sucker punch.

A pale golden light glimmered over his sparring uniform as he flew sprawling back. The academy’s wards protected him from the magical fire, though they couldn’t totally erase the blow. He skidded and rolled over the grass.

Full protection, my ass.

Spitting a mouthful of dirt and grass, Kai suppressed a groan and brought his arms closer to stand. A carpet of burning embers littered the grass, quickly extinguished by the enchanted ground.

Only three bubbles hovered on his side of the ring.

Dammit. Silly game with sillier rules.

Across from him, Kastor glowered at the three as if they’d done him a personal wrong. His face lit with amusement upon seeing his state. “You could use a bath.” His brows knitted. “You know what that is, right?”

Very funny.

Kai gave him a humorless smile. He pinched an ember on his shoulder to extinguish it and dusted himself off. No point wasting mana to wash the ash off until the bout was over.

The field took several seconds to regrow. Seven iridescent bubbles rose from the grass to float behind Kastor.

My turn.

“Ready!” The instructor walked up their ring. Her fingers tapped the crystal interface on her armguard, linking with the wards. A sharp ring started the countdown for attacker and defender to prepare. The stern-faced woman moved on, though she’d still be watching.

He didn’t regret dropping Words of Power. Even if chanting allowed a burst of power beyond one’s normal capabilities, its rigidity made spells predictable and easier to dodge. The flexibility of free casting allowed him to accomplish similar results at a fraction of the cost.

That was, unless a set of arbitrary rules tied his hands. All cunning and honed skills were worthless when he had to stand like a training dummy, rooted to a spot, meet spells head-on, and attack with a single predictable volley. He could hardly have imagined a worse match-up for his skill set.

Kai began weaving threads of ocean-blue, rich brown, vibrant green and muted gray. Unlike chanting, free casting benefited little from extensive preparation time. Once he’d meticulously gathered and visualized his spells, he still had forty seconds to cast. Jaw clenched, he watched Kastor smirk even as he continued chanting.

The game was supposed to mimic assaulting or defending a strategic asset.

What’s the point of attacking in turns?

Kai suppressed a groan of annoyance. Right now, he needed all his focus on casting. So what if it was an utterly unfair, ridiculous and unbalanced exercise? He would still win, especially against Kastor.

A second ring announced the beginning of the assault window. Thirty seconds. As the attacker, he had the initiative. Waiting would offer him no advantage, as all his sparring partners already had learned.

Still, Kai rocked on his feet and smiled patiently.

Kastor’s face twitched, unable to speak, his tongue tied to hold the spells he’d prepared. After ten seconds, his expression grew constipated. Apparently, it was rather unpleasant to hold strong invocations on the cusp of casting. Raelion offered so much useful information.

Fifteen seconds. The boy bit down on his lip.

Ten seconds. His face assumed a purple tinge.

When five seconds remained, Kai checked on his preparations. According to Professor Valdibal, anything magic released within three seconds was considered one volley. He was glad today’s scenario didn’t include magical catalysts like wands.

Earth mana flowed through his legs. Spikes of compacted soil split the ground, aimed at the floating bubbles. The largest portion of Water mana rushed through his arms. Mist fogged the ring between them, hiding the icicles that shot at different heights and angles.

With a relieved gasp, Kastor threw his arms aside and released his chants. Dark crimson fire spread before him, soaring into a roaring wall. The infernal heat wave hissed against the Water constructs and thickened the fog, just as a swarm of blazing fireflies burst forth. Despite the wobbly trajectory, their number made up for the poor accuracy. Cutting off the Earth spikes, the tiny constructs exploded like firecrackers.

Clearly, the young man wasn’t concerned about saving his mana. With Fire’s offensive potential, Attack was the best defense.

So he learns too...

Working around elemental advantages and limitations was part of the exercise. And again, the rules screwed him. In an intense burst, Fire Magic could easily brush aside most other spells. He couldn’t wait for the flames to die down, nor summon enough water to choke them without a creek or lake nearby.

As the three seconds trickled away, Kai cast more icicles, vainly trying to pierce through. Perhaps if they’d been closer, or if Earth Magic had advanced to Yellow. But what ifs meant less than nothing in battle.

A third ring closed his attack window.

The crimson fire died down. Kastor heaved, tousled hair stuck to his face with sweat and soot. Despite his disheveled state, his grin was white and triumphant. Seven iridescent bubbles still floated above him.

Pop. Pop. Pop...

“What—” Kastor spun too late.

After slithering beneath the ring, the cloaked vine burst through the ground behind him. Verdant leaves budded with life. Quickly rising, it whipped through the remaining bubbles before the mage had a chance to react. With a merry wave, the leafy tendril flopped down, having exhausted the mana sustaining it; it quickly withered, soon to be absorbed by the field.

Kastor goggled at it. “That—that— The bout was over!”

“The spell was finished within the casting window,” the instructor dryly reprimanded, suddenly appearing near the chalk line. “Four to seven for Veernon.”

Kai fought to keep the smirk off his face. Stretching out the timer, he made sure Kastor was too busy scrambling to notice the sneaking vine. The rest was just posturing.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“We’re not done yet!” Kastor seethed. Trying to wipe the ash and soot from his face, he only smeared it worse.

Didn’t you say that the last four times?

“We are done for today.” Kai kept his tone neutral, fighting the urge to throw back a remark about who needed a bath.

After the failed date with his sister, he’d tried to extend an olive branch, though his guilt quickly evaporated with Kastor’s grating behavior. From his consistent obnoxiousness, Isadora likely never even mentioned the episode to him.

“Forlow, step out.” The instructor said, entirely uncaring.

Fists clenched at his sides, Kastor stomped away. Despite the arrogant sneers, the bastard was improving at a fast pace. Each bout his crimson flames burned hotter.

Did he drink some boosting elixirs? Take a sip, get a level for free?

That would be a very patrician thing. Many Houses were rumored to possess secret rituals or potions, though there was a simpler explanation.

He wasn’t the only student growing, nor the most talented, nor the only hard-worker. Raelion's renown came for a reason.

I can’t rest at what I’m good at if I want to stay ahead.

Kai conjured a veil of water to wash his face. He couldn’t wait to be done with this game. The class should be almost over—

“Veernon, remain in the ring. You’re up against Willow next.”

Great.

He swallowed a curse.

The bookish teen promptly entered the ring. Pale green eyes studied him with calculating focus. He’d be a difficult opponent even without the duel’s rules.

I’ll be lucky to get a draw.

His bag of tricks rattled with a dangerously empty sound. There were only so many ways to outmaneuver a foe, especially when the eyes on him ensured he couldn’t reuse the same strategy twice. He had a few new spatial tricks, but he’d rather save those in reserve for now.

Kai didn’t know what he’d done to upset the guy. Well, besides beating him on the first day. It had been almost four weeks, and most high-ranking students still seemed to hate him. It wasn’t everybody, and even fewer openly insulted him, but he didn’t miss their dark glances and whispers.

Sore losers.

Beating them in most other spars since probably hadn’t helped.

“Ready!” The instructor bellowed, unrelenting.

Nope.

Kai gave a nod and prepared.

Two torturous bouts later, a different chime signaled the end of the class.

In the end, he managed to eke out a narrow victory. Cutting his losses, he focused his defense on only three bubbles. When attacking, he shot a volley of ice needles in an improbably high arc that burst six targets.

I mean, Luck is attributed.

Kai scowled, unbuckling the pauldrons, cuirass and vambraces meant to synergize with the ground’s wards. The engraved leather protections stuck to his sweaty uniform. He could feel dirt, ash and torn weeds inside his shirt.

Such nonsense rules.

He’d need a proper shower to look presentable for meeting Reishi. Goodbye snack break.

“Seems you did not appreciate today’s lesson.” A dry drawl spoke behind him.

“I found it very educational, actually.” Kai lied through his teeth, turning around with a respectful bow. “It helped reflect on my limitations and how to apply my skills in new ways.”

Looming behind him, Professor Valdibal gave a snort that might have been a chuckle on a less severe face. “We can’t always choose our battles. Sometimes we must fight in circumstances that don’t favor us. What would you do if you had to defend a strategic position, unable to retreat?”

Plan ahead so I don’t end up in the worst possible position? Find someone more suitable for the task? Go on the offensive and use my own advantages?

Objections bloomed in his mind. Some professors appreciated bold students and unorthodox thinking; most didn’t.

Kai bit his tongue and nodded. “I understand, professor.”

That in an artificial and highly unlikely scenario, I’d be at a disadvantage.

Professor Valdibal regarded him with silent scrutiny for a long second. “See that you do.” Hands laced behind him, he turned to move away, then halted after a step. "Good job today, boy. You must always keep a cool head.”

Kai dipped his head to hide his glower. “Thank you professor.”

Do I wag my tail now, or do I need to wait for a treat?

As more students dropped out and classes shrank, the professors’ biases became more evident. Among all, Validbal was far from the worst. He was capable and impartial, recognizing competence regardless of students' backgrounds. That did not mean he didn’t see them.

He acted like each time a commoner did well, it was a big surprise.

So condescending.

Exhaling deeply, Kai crossed a patch of mending grass and left the field for the storeroom. He made sure an instructor saw him turn in his armor pieces. Some called it paranoia, others prevention. He’d take no chances of someone to accuse him of stealing a set and having to reimburse the academy.

“Your bouts were quite impressive today. I was sure Ambrose would get you in the last fight. How did you manage to aim that arc?”

“Peerless skill and genius,” Kai said before his mind connected the voice to the person. Isadora queued behind him, ready to turn in her armor set. He’d tried approaching her a couple times since their disastrous dinner two weeks prior, but she’d always avoided him. Honestly, he’d thought she’d never speak with him again.

Face already flushing, he blurted quickly. “I’m sorry about the dinner. I should have handled it better. And stopped Lys before it got out of hand. I should have... I’m just sorry.”

Isadora studied him a moment, then turned to the field, blushing. “I appreciate it. I really do. I could have also been more upfront. You may not believe it, but that wasn’t even the worst dinner I’ve had since the Trials.”

Feeling an awkward silence encroaching, he scrambled to fill it. “Uh, sorry I beat your brother. Again.”

Isadora laughed. “Don’t be, he could use the humility. Mother ruined him. Really, I should thank you. He has been much more pleasant company since he started working to beat you. What was this, his fourth loss?”

When he moved to leave, she fell in step beside him. “Fifth. Always happy to oblige.” He showed the smirk he’d held off all class.

The initial stiffness melted away, and they shifted into easy conversation until their paths split off.

“I’ll see you next class! I’ll warn you, my team is going to win. I got a tip on Professor Beltram’s next mock challenge.”

“We shall see.” Kai waved. “Next class.”

That went well? Strangely friendly. Maybe, honestly talking things out works. Huh...

Checking his pocketwatch, he cut through a thicket to reach his dorm. His skin itched, and he was in dire need of a shower. The sun brushed the crown of the trees, and Spring was in full bloom.

Nearly done for the day.

While his schedule hadn’t gotten easier, he did get better at handling it and reaching places on time. Still, courses and professors always demanded more. If not for Mnemonic Mastery and Swift Learner’s growth, he would have struggled.

The white dorm quickly peeked through the trees, the ivy encroaching on the façade dotted with lilac flowers. Even the old oak he’d thought dead was budding after drinking an unreasonable amount of Nature mana.

Taking the stairs, Kai rifled through his memos. What naivete to believe that having an advisor would reduce his workload. For the students complaining about Professor Thornwyn’s inflexible standards in class, he’d like them to try becoming her mentee.

Memo 43: Meet with Jolene about your status plan. Next first weekend day. Eleventh hour.

Finding information about Hallowed Intuition had proven harder than even she expected—not to mention his profession skills. He might well be the only person to earn Favored Mystic of the Isles, though other professions still shared one of his skills or boons.

Entering his dorm apartment, Kai kicked off his boots and dashed to hog the shower before his roommates arrived.

Fifty-four minutes. Should be plenty.

Shedding his clothes, he found just how much dirt his sparring uniform could carry. Thank the Spirits for Earth and Water Magic. If his academic career failed, he could fall back on becoming a magic janitor. His fingers tapped the familiar grooves on the shower array. Steaming water soon fogged the mirror. Stepping inside, he sighed in pleasure, eyes closed, enjoying the soothing touch on his sore muscles. After a long minute, he began scrubbing down, wincing at his bruises.

For an elite academy, their sparring wards left a lot to be desired. Though that might be intentional. He’d noticed Valdibal’s made-up rules often put them in easily avoidable spell range.

Something-something learning to take blasts to the face? That, or he just feeds off student suffering...

Two equally likely possibilities.

After the hot shower, the world outside felt dreadfully cold. A pulse on mana took care to leave the bathroom spotless. Wrapped in a fuzzy towel, he grabbed his dirty uniform and marched to his bedroom. Now, for the fun part. He scoured his wardrobe for clothes that wouldn’t make him look like a pauper.

He’d collected enough ‘I told you so’ for the year without adding Reishi’s.

I hope he’s doing well. Since when do I have so many clothes—

“Pick that dark blue silk shirt and the charcoal trousers.” Rob peeked through the ajar door and skulked off. “Your pacing was making me anxious.”

Hmm, thanks.

Trying them on, Kai checked himself in the mirror. He’d hardly turn heads among Raelion’s opulent patricians, but he looked well put together—definitely not an overworked student threading the line of exhaustion.

Eighteen minutes left. Time flies.

Hopping on one leg to slip on his shoes, he spotted a head of pitch-black hair perched on a kitchen chair. No time like the present to get stuff done. “Hey, whatcha reading? I... wanted to talk to you about something.”

Alden looked up from a weathered tome, brows drawn into a furrow. “You started another strange rumor about your involvement with my House?”

“What... No!” Kai straightened his shirt. “Why— I never started or encouraged any rumors. People are just weird and bored.”

“So you’ve told me.” A deep purple gaze studied him. “Though for something allegedly accidental, it happens with an odd frequency.”

“Uhm, well...” Kai coughed to clear his throat. “This has nothing to do with that! It’s about a book, actually. An alchemy book that my teacher left me. I was wondering if we could look at the recipes together. Some were too advanced for me. Obviously, you can borrow it and copy anything you like.”

After receiving two free tutoring lessons, he’d been looking for a way to repay him. Dora would appreciate it if he shared her work.

“Yes, that could be interesting." Alden broke his suspicious stare and returned to his tome. “I should have some time tomorrow evening after supper.”

“Great. Talk to you tomorrow, then! I gotta run.”

Alden tilted his head and returned to his reading.

Memo 21: Figure out a present to repay Alden.

It’s not exactly a present, but he’s definitely never seen those recipes.

Humming, Kai dashed out of the dorm and raced across the trails, careful not to crease his shirt. He’d heard a saying that all paths at Raelion led to the Wing Aurea. The clamor in the atrium enveloped him. Past the crowd, a girl in a blue dress sat in one of the alcoves. Even with her face turned, he could never mistake that shade of auburn hair.

“Hey, I hope you didn't wait long. You really didn’t need to accompany me.”

“Oh, hi. It’s no trouble.” Valela brushed back a lock and stood, smoothing her gown. “We can eat later. I also needed to visit the House of Mirrors anyway.” Her eyes scanned him up and down. An eyebrow arched. “Did Flynn pick your clothes?”

“What? Why?”

“Nothing. Just amusing. We should hurry.” Half-concealing a smile, she spun and headed for the elevator. “You don’t want to miss your connection.”

Wait!What did you mean? I can dress well too!