A little disappointed, the duo left the building without even asking about the test.
“I think we can deal with the issue of our lodging later.” Hadjar looked in the direction of the training grounds where the fight would take place.
After Einen agreed, they went to the Forest of Knowledge to train.
Chapter 515
Mentor Jean didn’t like this place. The Storm Mountain, hidden among the vast forests, brought back very painful memories. It had been right here, in a battle against a Primeval Beast, that his friends had died. It had happened almost seventeen centuries ago, but Jean’s memories of it were still fresh. He had never found other friends.
Except, perhaps, one… A madman obsessed with only one thing — cultivation. A very specific form of it. Each cultivator aspired to gain more power; this had always been the basis of their existence, he knew that. For some, the endless battle for new scraps of power and knowledge gave meaning to the centuries that lay ahead of them. Some found joy in finding opportunities to grow. Others simply sought wisdom.
They said that there were as many paths of cultivation as there were cultivators. This saying was ancient and extremely profound. Even Jean, who had become a Lord three centuries ago, didn’t yet understand the world enough to realize the wisdom contained in these words.
Despite the endless struggle for power, there were those who engaged in cultivation for the sake of cultivation itself. Jean called them ‘mad’, as their goals were rather vague. They didn’t seek power, revenge, pleasure, or battle. That wasn’t their path. The only thing they were looking for was an opportunity to become even stronger.
Something Orune was doing as well. Back when Jean had been a disciple of the inner circle, Orune had already been a Mentor.
A bright future had awaited Orune, full of honor, respect, and the highest of positions in the Empire. However, more than fifteen hundred years had passed since then, and Orune hadn’t advanced past the middle stage of the Lord level to the peak one. Not because he couldn’t, but because he simply didn’t want to.
“My old friend!”
Today, Orune would come out of the solitary meditation he’d spent the past thirty years in. The Lord had sequestered himself away in a cave on the Storm Mountain — the most dangerous place in the Empire — reflecting on the essence of the Sword. The man who had once been called a genius swordsman had, by the age of ten, come from an outlying Kingdom to join the School. He’d already been a Spirit Knight, and he’d even mastered the Sword’s Heart shortly afterward. Everyone, even the rector of ‘The Holy Sky’ School, had been certain that Orune would become a Nameless by his twentieth century. Thirty-five centuries later, he was still at the middle stage of the Lord level.
Standing at the foot of the mountain, Jean looked warily at the surrounding forest. He always had to keep his eyes and ears open around this damned mountain. One never knew what kind of creature would try to devour a cultivator’s core to become stronger.
After waiting for Orune for another hour, Jean sighed sadly, turned, and headed for the boat he’d tied to a tree so it wouldn’t float away. He had paid almost a hundred thousand Imperial coins for it once. He was sorry he had, as it cost almost half as much nowadays. Progress waited for no one, and being a Mentor to outer circle disciples wasn’t very profitable.
If it were, Jean would’ve ordered a Divine level staff long ago. Unfortunately, that still remained nothing but a dream of his. There were no more than eight such artifacts in the entire Empire, and each of them cost a small fortune.
“Hello, junior disciple.”
Jean flinched and turned around. A tall, stately man came out of the cave. He wore only a pair of simple leather pants. His shoulders were covered in red tattoos made by a shaman from one of the tribes, spelling out the Name that Orune had never told anyone, not even Jean, his only friend. Long, black hair framed a face that made many noble ladies in the Empire sigh with desire. He carried a pelt from a huge, black Anger Wolf, a creature at the Ancient Stage, over his shoulder.
“Hello, Orune.” Jean smiled and held out his hand.
Orune returned the gesture. Laughing, the two friends then embraced one another and patted each other’s backs.
“Thank you for meeting me, Jean,” Orune said and handed him the pelt. “Take it. It’s a present. I know you don’t like this place, and so I had to thank you for your help.”
Orune nodded toward the already disintegrating veil that had been covering the entrance to the cave. Had it not been for that veil, he would’ve been torn to pieces by wild beasts long ago. Or by other Lords who roamed the Storm Mountain in search of anything that could make them stronger.
“Thank you, my friend,” Jean said, “but I can’t accept this gift.”
They reached the boat, and Orune threw the heavy pelt into it. It was so big that it took up almost all the available space.
“I won’t take on a personal disciple,” he suddenly said.
Sitting down on the far bench, Orune propped his chin up on his fist. His lean but strong muscles bulged. His veins were as thick as ropes, and his eyes as cold as ice. Jean sometimes felt like his friend wanted not only to know the Sword Spirit, but to also assume the form of his favorite weapon.
“Don’t you want to pass on your knowledge to the younger generation?”
“Why should I?”
“So that your legacy isn’t lost!” Jean exclaimed. He gave a mental order and the boat soared into the sky. In an instant, the mountain became a black dot that soon disappeared on the horizon. Only then did Jean let out a sigh of relief. “You’re thirty centuries old, Orune. We aren’t getting any younger. How much time do you have left? Ten more centuries? Fifteen?”
“I’ve mastered all five volumes of the ‘Heart of the Earth’ Technique.” Orune didn’t seem to care about his friend’s words. He answered only out of politeness. “My body is as strong as a Heaven level artifact, so I’ll get to live as long as I already have.”
“Still...” Jean shook his head. “Time won’t spare you, either. One day, you’ll return to the World River with all your knowledge and skills.”
“So be it,” Orune said.
“But it would be such a waste! After the Emperor, you’re the strongest swordsman in all of Darnassus! You’re the only one, apart from His Majesty, who has grasped the essence of the Sword Kingdom and can use it!”
Jean had seen his friend use the sixth level of sword mastery only once. When they had been young, they’d had to fight against the Lascanian legions on the border. Surrounded by hundreds of Spirit Knights, they’d already felt death breathing down their necks. Suddenly, Orune had experienced some sort of enlightenment, mastering the Sword Kingdom and using it to obliterate the legion before Jean had even finished whispering a prayer to his forefathers.
“Let him pass on the knowledge, then,” the swordsman shrugged.
“You know that the Emperor only trains his heir. This is the immutable law of our country!”
“It’s a stupid law. It should have been changed long ago.”
“The Emperor’s power is the foundation for the prosperity of our Empire! If his knowledge and power are given to the people, it’ll lead to an unnecessary struggle for power.”
Orune raised his head. He hadn’t seen the sky for thirty years and he had missed it greatly.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that the entire Empire depends on one person?”
Jean was about to protest, but then he suddenly smiled:
“You won’t talk my ear off this time, my friend. Don’t change the subject. I am once again suggesting that you accept a personal disciple.”
“Again, with all due respect, junior disciple, I have to refuse. I didn’t give up the path of cultivation and the Nameless level just to hand over my sword to some puffed-up idiot who became a disciple of the inner circle thanks to the merits and efforts of their distant ancestors.”
“What if I told you that this isn’t a disc
iple of the inner circle, but a fully-fledged one?”
“All the more reason for me to refuse! If this oaf couldn’t even use all his resources properly, then... I don’t even want to think about it!”
“He didn’t have any resources,” Jean said, trying not to smile. “This very unusual guy came from Lidus. It’s a distant-”
“I’m well-versed in geography, my friend,” Orune interrupted him. “I know where Lidus is.”
“And that’s not all,” Jean continued. “He isn’t even twenty years old yet and is only a Heaven Soldier, but he’s already mastered the Sword’s Heart.”
At last, Orune stopped his contemplation of the sky and turned to Jean.
“The Sword’s Heart?”
“That’s right. He also has a friend from the Islands who’s also reached the Weapon’s Heart level. But he wields a spear-staff, so he’s of no interest to you.”
Orune narrowed his eyes.
“Why do you care so much about these fully-fledged disciples?”
“Because a month and a half ago, they were ordinary disciples... and mere Wielders.”
“Hmm…”
Orune said no more. Jean, even though he didn’t like fishing, suddenly felt what any fisherman did when their prey had taken the bait.
Chapter 516
The arena where the fight between Tom Dinos and Einen would take place had already filled up that morning. Hadjar, Dora, and Anise, who had come with her (and refused to look at Hadjar), barely managed to acquire front row seats.
The huge amphitheater was overcrowded. The best seats had been reserved for the disciples of the inner circle. There were about fifteen of them there, not counting Anise and Dora. They hadn’t come to support Tom, but to gloat over his defeat. The several hundred fully-fledged students that surrounded them were divided into two groups: those that supported Tom and were probably trying to become servants of the Predatory Blades clan, and those that supported Einen. They did so more out of solidarity than sympathy. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone on the Strong Earth list (Einen was ranked 1,543rd) fought someone from the Jade Cloud list (Tom was among the top 200).
Only the disciples of the outer circle genuinely supported Einen. In this generation of ordinary disciples, only two of them had earned a golden token. And one of those two was the islander.
Since they made up the majority of the audience — there were about two thousand of them there — it seemed like Einen was the crowd’s favorite.
“How are you so calm, Hadjar?” Dora, who had no issue discussing war in a casual manner, had been sick with worry since early morning. “Your friend, your only friend, is about to be killed, and you’re sitting there doing nothing!”
Hadjar didn’t bother telling her that there was nothing he could do. Einen had accepted the challenge, which his and Tom’s medallions were now enforcing. If he refused to fight, willingly or not, he would be expelled from ‘The Holy Sky’ School. With that mark of dishonor hanging over him, no other school would accept him. Even a rundown one on the very edge of the Empire’s central district. Honor was prized above everything else among cultivators.
Besides, Hadjar had already done everything in his power. He’d spent all of last night acting as a training dummy for his friend. As a result, they’d developed a tactic with which Einen had a chance of winning. They’d also organized more betting and collected a sum much larger than the previous one had been.
Right now, Hadjar’s token held almost 300,000 Glory points. If Einen won, the two would get about 40,000 ― 30,000 for the islander and 10,000 for Hadjar. In his opinion, it was way too much money, but Einen had insisted that he take it.
“Anise-”
“Calm down, Dora.” The girl patted her friend’s hand. “Tom won’t kill your friend. Trust me, everything will be fine.”
Hadjar looked at Anise suspiciously. She averted her eyes again.
Damn it! Hadjar’s paranoia was screaming that something was wrong. They’re clearly up to something!
A few minutes later, the crowd roared in anticipation. Tom stepped out into the arena. Stripped to the waist, wearing only cloth pants, he held his Imperial level sword in his hands.
“I, the inner circle disciple, Tom Dinos, greet you, Mentor.” He saluted a man who stepped out of the shadows cast by the high walls.
Hadjar took a deep breath. Mentor Markin stood on the sand next to Tom. Wearing his gray hood topped with a short hawk feather, he stood out like a sore thumb.
“I, Mentor Markin, a Lord, will be the judge of this duel.” Hadjar had never heard of a judge being present at a duel. Corner men, sure, but not judges. “Will the second duelist please enter the arena?”
This time, the crowd exploded in cheers. Tom, not showing his true emotions, continued grinning. He’d come without armor, as if to say that he didn’t believe his opponent would get a chance to injure him. Einen came out in the full battle dress of his people.
Wrapped in numerous layers of white cloth that formed Spirit level armor when combined, he clutched his nameless, Heaven level spear-staff.
“Duelists, come to me!”
Tom and Einen approached Markin calmly. They stood in the center of the huge arena, their backs to the audience. They were face to face, so close that each of them could feel the other’s breath. Even though they were hundreds of yards away from the stands, every spectator could feel the tension between the two.
“Take it easy, my friend, take it easy,” Hadjar whispered. “A calm mind means steady hands.”
“According to the rules of ‘The Holy Sky’ School, the duel will be either to the death or until one of you surrenders. Do you understand?”
“I do!” Tom answered immediately and loudly.
“I do.” Einen almost whispered.
“Only weapons and artifact armor are allowed, all other items, including any amulets and talismans, are prohibited. Do you understand?”
Both foes nodded again.
“Now swear that each of you is participating in this duel of your own free will, and that you’re not under any compulsions.”
Markin held out an incredibly old-looking dagger toward them. It had a scuffed handle and a rusty blade.
Tom took the blade first. Cutting his palm, he recited the required oath. Einen did so as well.
“With that, I declare the duel legitimate. May the worthiest warrior win!”
Hadjar had seen many Movement Techniques, but he had no idea how Markin had moved a hundred yards away in an instant and suddenly appeared in the stands.
The Master stood on a round, very strange stone pedestal. Whispering something in an unknown language, he plunged the old dagger into a crack that opened up in the pedestal. As he did so, the stone walls of the arena shook and the many magical runes and hieroglyphs across their surface began to glow. The energy emanating from them began to form a transparent and almost imperceptible veil, which soon enclosed the two warriors like a high dome.
“Until their duel is over, that veil won’t disappear,” Anise commented. “No one, not even a Lord, could get past that veil and interfere.”
Dora pursed her lips and her breathing quickened. She didn’t look like a powerful cultivator anymore, but like an ordinary, worried girl. Hadjar was surprised to find that his fists were tightly clenched. By the gods, he wasn’t used to Einen being the one risking his life.
“Begin!” Markin shouted.
Chapter 517
Tom remained standing in the center of the arena. Einen decided to go on the offensive. Dinos smiled broadly. Spreading his arms out, he turned his back to his opponent and faced the audience. He looked right into Dora’s eyes, then turned back to Einen.
“He’ll kill him!” Dora exclaimed, springing to her feet.
Einen was standing seventy yards away, but for a swordsman at the Sword’s Heart level of weapon mastery, that distance might as well have been an inch. Tom swung his sword in a wide arc. He put so much power into the movement t
hat the ground behind him exploded. A long, bright crescent of Sword energy, many times denser and more lethal than what Hadjar could produce, flew through the air.
The audience let out a collective sigh. Then came the whispers.
“Even Heaven level armor wouldn’t be able to withstand that!”
Hadjar squeezed his knees so hard that they hurt.
“Come on, my friend, you can do it! End it all with one strike!”
The crescent of energy struck Einen’s spear-staff. The audience cheered wildly. No one had expected the islander to actually block the attack.
Hadjar felt blood trickle down his forearm. Dora had gripped it so tightly that her nails were drawing blood.
The explosion of power formed a sand tornado. When it reached the top of the spell dome, it left behind a cloud of dust that lingered across the point of impact.
“You dog!” Tom shouted. “A commoner like you should know his place and be grateful when-”
He didn’t get to finish his tirade. His foe emerged from the shadows. After Hera had cleared and expanded his channels, Einen’s power had reached a new level. What had once consisted of only iridescent scales had become real armor. Smooth and sloping, it was made up of broad plates and was the best defensive Technique Einen had.
The shadow ape was now more solid and distinct as well, and its muscles were huge. It held an exact replica of Einen’s spear-staff in its massive hands. The replica was ten feet long, and the ape’s torso, at the base of which Einen stood, was fifteen feet tall.
“River Serpent!” Einen shouted, swinging his weapon.
The ape imitated the islander’s movements.
“Holy fuck!” Hadjar cursed.
During their training, Einen had never gone all out with this attack, and Hadjar now understood why. If the islander had used the full power of it, he would’ve never been able to dodge it. The speed of the staff-spear was incredible.
Land of Magic Page 43