The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop - Chapter 27 - Before The Inter-Academy Tournament
Bluefire didn’t have a particular headmaster at the top who oversaw the entire academy.
In true Republican fashion, things were run by a council of the headmasters and headmistresses from each school, and even then, only the ones who cared to participate were present.
Thus, Orodan found himself sitting in front of a group of elderly Grandmasters of various disciplines. Some combat specialists, some non-combatants.
“We truly appreciate you agreeing to this meeting Mister Wainwright. You’re a difficult man to approach in a moment of free time,” headmaster Aldori Vistirian of the school of bardic studies spoke. “It speaks well of your natural work ethic of course.”
The man’s social skills were undoubtedly incredible, but out of respect he’d avoided using them. It could be considered offensive to use high-level social skills on someone without warning.
“I usually have an hour of free time in-between my overnight training and classes beginning in the morning,” Orodan replied.
“Yes, but we didn’t want to intrude upon your tireless training until necessary,” the man spoke. “Anyhow, we wanted to meet with you to discuss the Inter-Academy Tournament coming up.”
“Oh, that thing? I was under the impression it would only be students competing,” Orodan remarked. “For me to compete, wouldn’t it be a bit… unfair?”
“Far from it actually,” Aldori spoke. “While you’re without a doubt monstrously strong, in all likelihood being the most powerful student in our school; there are still at least a handful of students in the other academies who can similarly jump multiple tiers to fight. This year’s competition is auspicious and incredible.”
“Ah yes… I believe I’ve heard of one such student, Akelrim Vedharna from Rubywater who can fight Grandmasters?” Orodan asked. “But merely being able to fight a single-Grandmaster isn’t enough to challenge me.”
It wasn’t a boast, just a statement of fact.
His feats within the energy well had spread among the upper echelons of society. There was a general understanding that he could contribute to fights where Chosen Avatars were fighting, and that he had stood against a terrifying quadruple-Grandmaster monster.
“Truly, we are aware of how powerful you are… but Rubywater’s pick of students is rather weak this year. Akelrim Vedharna isn’t the strongest you will face,” Aldori replied. “Rather, it’s the Novar’s Peak Academy and the Goldleaf Academy of Eldiron that may challenge you. They both have some concerningly strong students they are sending.”
“How strong?”
“Vespidia Aulmalexis is one of the competitors to watch. She’s strong enough that there are suspicions that she’s a reincarnator, but the Cathedral has never been able to prove this… which is always frowned upon but not against the rules in the tournament,” the man explained. “She’s the direct disciple of the cursed reincarnator himself, Demosthenos Albathrax. The Cathedral has tried to divine who she was in her past life, but to no avail. The Imperials are quite protective of her.”
“Hmm… not bad. What about the elves? Who do I watch for there?”
“The strongest of the elven students, will be a man known as Othorion Evertree. Half-elven, but I’ve heard he has a profoundly powerful Bloodline that allows him to call upon divine assistance incredibly freely,” the headmaster explained. “As frowned upon as it is, Avatars are not barred from the tournament. We would be happy if you even managed to take the top three with him involved.”
An Avatar? What sort of tournament rules were these? This sounded like a rowdy free-for-all!
Just how Orodan liked it.
He didn’t know how strong this elf was, nor how strong he would be with the full power of a God coursing through him… but Orodan was eager to truly test himself against an Avatar.
“I also wouldn’t count out the students from Dothrilriver Academy. The dwarves are always eager to ‘test’ their new inventions each year, and they can be quite devastating. They’re also quite secretive and we don’t have much information going in or out from under the Dokuhan Mountains, so we don’t know who to watch out for among them.”
“I’ve seen one of their magic rifles peddled at an auction once. I assume they have more fearsome weaponry not available for public sale?” Orodan asked, and Aldori nodded.
“But that is all I have to offer. I hope the strength of your opponents is enough to persuade you to represent Bluefire,” the man remarked. “Among the three human dominated academies, we’ve almost always come in second behind the Novar’s Peak Academy. With your entry, we hope to at least prevail over their best this year.”
Orodan agreed to this. His registration for the Inter-Academy Tournament was confirmed then and there.
As for him bullying weaker students, he needn’t have been too concerned.
Each of the five academies was given two priority spots in the tournament schedule that started from the quarterfinals. Orodan would be given one of these positions.
These spots were given the unfair advantage of not having to fight as many battles and would be matched up against the winners from the lower brackets who had clawed their way up through hard work.
Officially, this was to prevent the pitiful display of the academy’s strongest students being matched against some poor up-and-comer in their first round.
After all, if someone was deemed the strongest, having them waste time fighting weaklings was inefficient.
That being said, someone with a preferred spot would have three less matches than their regular counterpart, which was quite the advantage. Orodan would essentially begin fighting from the quarterfinals.
He also wouldn’t have to participate in the qualifying matches to decide who got to compete.
***
“Go Altaj!”
“Skewer him Oxburton!”
Cheers and cries of support rang out as the fight between Altaj Ilo Vedharna and Oxburton Applewood raged on.
The halfling warrior was quite proficient with his spear and shield. Combined with his short stature, it was as though Altaj was facing an armored porcupine that he couldn’t get a good hit on.
Oxburton’s shield covered almost his entire body. It made the prospect of actually hitting the halfling an incredibly difficult one.
But Altaj wasn’t among the ten strongest students at Bluefire without reason.
Lance met spear. The melee continued with fury which caused minor cracks to appear even on the reinforced arena floor.
And then Altaj goaded Oxburton into launching a premature thrust of his spear, which Altaj backstepped from.
A powerful Lunge was launched from the newly created distance and right towards Oxburton’s exposed shoulder.
The halfling flew through the air as Altaj’s lance impaled his shoulder and dragged him for a hundred feet before pinning him into the ground.
The shield was pushed to the side and Altaj’s boot came to rest on the spear wielder’s throat momentarily after.
Oxburton Applewood wisely yielded.
The arena erupted into cheers and boos, and Altaj offered the halfling a hand and a healing potion, both of which were accepted. The two had respect for one another.
Altaj had won three matches in a row and already qualified for the tournament, but still fought for the fun of it. Orodan could respect the aspiring pegasus knight’s warrior spirit. With that fight, he had won five out of five of his qualifier matches.
“You did so well!” Mahari exclaimed as her brother walked up the stairs to where she and Orodan were spectating. “I don’t know how I’ll do in my match though… don’t know why you’ve forced me to compete.”
“Try not to stress overly much about it, fighting can be fun if you tune out the crowd and just immerse yourself into it,” Altaj reassured his little sister. “Frankly, having so many people cheer for me is a bit much though. Don’t you have better things to do than attend qualifying matches, Mister Wainwright? Seeing you support me had half the bored crowd suddenly jump on my side.”
“Sorry, I just came by to support a friend in her match,” Orodan replied with a smile. “As your brother says, I think you’ll find it fun Mahari. I’ll be cheering for you.”
She grumbled a bit but accepted the words, looking almost embarrassed.
Soon, Mahari’s first match came up, and it was against a third-year hex mage.
She looked nervous being in the center of the crowd’s attention, but her stance was quite calm otherwise.
The moment the match started; Mahari acted.
Orodan had never seen her fight before, but knew she carried no weapons.
Orodan had fought many mages, but none of them had the strange fluidity and dexterity of hands that Mahari had in casting her spells.
Multiple fireballs, lightning bolts and beams of luminous light magic flew towards her second-year opponent.
Bloody hells! Orodan had never seen a mage capable of casting spells so fast. Mahari’s entire combat style was different to what he’d seen and knew of mages trained in the Imperial-tradition of magic.
He often thought mages to be slow, lacking combat instincts and not having much physical gumption. Yet, in seconds, Mahari had shattered his worldview.
The poor hex mage was utterly overwhelmed and forced to yield. A healer had to tend to her gruesome wounds quickly.
“Damn, I must not have fought too many mages…” Orodan muttered. Despite the fact that he had fought many. “How is your sister so fast in spell casting?”
“It’s the Eastern-tradition of spell casting. Our mages are mostly speed-casting specialists who are incredibly quick on the draw and can multi-cast thanks to the rigorous physical training we insist they undergo. Physical Fitness can be very important for a mage,” Altaj explained. “Our mages aren’t quite as good at raw spell power or bombardment style tactics as ones trained in the Imperial tradition. But, that is partly why Mahari is here, to combine both styles and advance herself beyond either.”
Orodan was used to mages hiding behind the front line and being paranoid of warriors getting too close to them.
But unlike a mage trained in the Imperial-tradition, he had a feeling that Mahari wouldn’t be as concerned with facing a martial specialist at a closer distance. Her speed casting allowed her to remain deadly at any range, and her Physical Fitness gave her increased reaction times and movement speed.
He thought a mage with such rapid-fire capabilities would be quite lethal when paired with a pegasus that allowed them to remain out of enemy reach.
“Surely that must be quite the mana-intensive style, no?”
“Quite. It’s a weakness we’re working on shoring up for her,” Altaj replied.
Orodan could already see exhaustion set in upon Mahari’s face.
She had won her match but was low on mana within less than fifteen seconds of battle.
Mana potions solved the issue thankfully. But her opponents would undoubtedly exploit this in future battles.
His prediction was proven correct within the next three fights.
Mahari won two more of them in a row and therefore actually qualified for the tournament, which was incredible for a first year.
But her last opponent… was a woman Orodan had not seen before.
He felt the familiar undercurrents of chronomancy surrounding her.
“It’s her! The rookie’s done for!”
“-third strongest!”
From the mutters, Orodan pieced together that this was the former second strongest student of Bluefire. Now the third strongest thanks to his inclusion in the rankings.
The woman gave him a cold look as she faced Mahari down.
Orodan had caused her to miss out on one of the two preferred spots in the tournament.
Thus, without much further ado, Mahari’s fourth qualifier match began.
Mahari was at full readiness; she had consumed a mana potion which topped her up.
A furious blitz of magic erupted from her fingertips, her hands working in incredible synchronicity to produce a torrent of magical spells.
But it wasn’t of any use.
Just before the first of the volley reached her, the chronomancer acted, and suddenly every spell that was flying her way… was slowed down.
The amount of mana in each of Mahari’s spells wasn’t very high individually. This allowed for a chronomancer to slow or outright freeze them without much cost.
Mahari kept desperately throwing spells out, but her mana reserves began to run low.
Which was a bad idea against a chronomancer if one didn’t have any anti-chronomancy items. Which were against the rules in qualifier matches and the tournament anyway.
Chronomancers were limited by energy costs when slowing, freezing or reversing time on something.
Even the headmaster of the school of chronomancy at Bluefire couldn’t slow or freeze a dragon, their pools of energy were too high and consequently the attempt would be too mana intensive.
But to freeze a first-year mage who had already spent her mana pool?
A much easier matter.
Mahari looked as still as a statue.
Because she was.
Her opponent had frozen her in time.
The woman then casually walked up to the frozen Vedharna and placed a dagger against her neck.
Mahari then unfroze, only to realize what had occurred.
She yielded.
***
“Once again, I really must thank you for allowing me a choice of treasure from the clan’s vaults. It would have otherwise taken me many years before I could acquire this pair of enchanted horseshoes,” Olsinius spoke. “The ability to skip through space will be a powerful asset to me.”
“Well, I can’t exactly wear horseshoes or barding now, can I? Better you got some use out of it than it collect dust in a vault,” Orodan replied. “Why aren’t treasures just freely distributed among the talented anyways?”
“They are given to the strong… I just wasn’t considered to be among the cream of the crop, worthy of such an honor,” Olsinius replied. “That would be Altaj’s companion, Ostronor.”
There was no envy or jealousy in Olsinius’s tone, just a statement of fact.
“Speaking of Ostronor,” Orodan remarked. “How far do you think you’d go if fighting alongside him was allowed, Altaj?”
“At least within the top ten in the tournament,” the man remarked. “Ostronor is a truly powerful pegasus. He can fight at the level of a Grandmaster despite being only at the Elite-level currently. Alas, while the tournament is a fun distraction and opportunity to better myself, it is not my primary goal at Bluefire.”
“I see… do you perhaps want to become a pegasus knight upon graduation?” Orodan asked.
“Yes, that has always been an aspiration of mine,” Altaj replied. “Technically, as I am right now, I could pass the trials on combat strength alone. But I’m aiming to do better than simply rushing into the ranks. I want to grow as much as I can first, and then attempt the trials with Ostronor by my side.”
“I was going to say, the average pegasus knight surely isn’t as strong as you? You’re among the top ten strongest students in the Academy from what I hear.”
“You’re not wrong. The average pegasus knight is an Elite, but can’t jump a tier to hold their own against a Master like I can,” the man replied. “When Ostronor enters the equation, we’re definitely capable of fighting even a strong Grandmaster.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, do you perhaps feel that you struggle to keep up with your companion?” Orodan asked as he watched the prodigious pegasus fly circles around Mahari who was upon her own pegasus. Ostronor had taken over for Olsinius in trying to cheer Mahari up after her loss.
“I will not lie Mister Wainwright… you speak correctly,” Altaj replied. “Ostronor is a true prodigy among his clan, a pegasus who’s like is not seen for thousands of years. In comparison, I’m but a bumbling fool. If only I could’ve been like Akelrim.”
“You seem plenty talented to me already. Mayhap Ostronor chose to bond with you for reasons beyond just power?” Orodan suggested. “You possess a good character.”
Altaj had a good heart. He cared for his sister and was a humble man with a good warrior spirit.
Sometimes it wasn’t just about how many tiers one could jump in a fight.
“Thank you, Mister Wainwright, your words are kind. But in this world, a good character often isn’t enough,” Altaj spoke. “My uncle was a heroic soul who flew about the Eastern Kingdoms and acted the savior to many. Yet he died in the deep depths all the same while trying to procure a rare herb to save his sick sister… my mother. A good character did not save him or my mother in the end.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Being a hero hadn’t made reality bend for Adeltaj either.
The only thing that mattered was strength. Whether one lived within the shade of a nation’s strength or the power of another, everyone was subject to depending upon it to live.
Without power, how could one enforce their lofty ideals and live the life they chose?
It was as Orodan learned. Power was freedom; the freedom to live on your own terms.
Perhaps one day, he would have enough power that Adeltaj would never have to die again.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Orodan said. “Someone gave their life to save mine recently too.”
“Here I am speaking of such things when you’ve lost someone yourself,” Altaj spoke. “It is clear then, that we must both advance and attain power. If only so we can care for those who matter to us.”
Orodan hummed in acknowledgement. “This Akelrim you speak of. Mahari says he’s the ‘golden child’ of your family, the heir to the main line?”
“I shouldn’t say it of her, but my sister can hold a grudge and has a bit of envy within,” Altaj spoke as he stared out towards the sky watching his sister laugh as she flew about. “Akelrim Vedharna… he used to be quite the little bully, making our lives miserable. But ever since he had a near fatal incident almost a decade ago, he’s been a completely changed man.”
“I suppose a near-death experience can change a man,” Orodan said, fully aware that the number of times he had died, definitely changed him.
“Well that too, but it’s not just a change of character, it’s like his personality underwent a complete reversal and he suddenly became a prodigy with the sword,” Altaj explained. “We think he unlocked a latent Bloodline or received a Blessing, but it still doesn’t explain how he suddenly became a very pleasant person to be around and gained maturity beyond his years.”
“Who knows what secrets he has? No one can jump two tiers to fight without some mysteries of their own, right?” Orodan asked.
“It is somewhat ironic for you to say that Mister Wainwright, given how you can do the same,” Altaj replied. “The elders of my house tell me of some of the feats you performed down in the energy well. And that monster you fought.”
“Calling it a fight wouldn’t be accurate,” Orodan honestly replied. “It was more of a desperate struggle for survival. Anyhow, we’re getting off-topic. Surely your cousin has some secrets of his own to be able to do such things.”
“I suppose he might. The skills I’ve seen him use indicate training in magic,” Altaj spoke. “But I’ve never seen him cast a spell in my life. How he conjures that strange light from his sword and uses it in battle is beyond me.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Perhaps he was possessed by some demon?” Orodan offered jokingly. “I also have a talking book that I’m certain is possessed. Claims to be the ancient lich, Exus Baldrimon.”
He took the book out of his spatial ring and gave it a rough few pokes, but as usual it refused to speak in front of anyone but him when they were alone.
“Mister Wainwright…! I don’t know if you’ve been told this, but to anyone with the Curse Sense skill, that book is blazing like a beacon!” Altaj explained. “Truthfully, I feel uneasy just being near it…”
“Well, I did obtain this thing in the warded cursed item sanctum of the White Cloud clan,” Orodan spoke as he was considerate and put it back inside the ring. “Does it give off a powerful necromantic aura or something?”
“That’s the thing. From what I saw, it doesn’t have any of the familiar traces of necrotic curse energy,” Altaj spoke, and when Orodan gave him a puzzled look the man elaborated. “Curses are at the end of the day aspected to whatever element or energy the creator was most in tune with. For a tome that should be inhabited by the ancient terror Exus Baldrimon… the curse energy contains not a whit of necrotic attunement.”
“Is that sort of like the elemental tuning mages have to do before casting spells of a certain element?”
“Yes. Exus Baldrimon was famed for his necrotic spells. So, for the tome’s curse to have no traces of it is a bit strange,” Altaj spoke. “Have you considered having it identified by a curse master?”
All this was news to Orodan.
Was there something more to the book he was lugging around than he knew?
After Mahari’s mood rose from the distraction of her crushing defeat, Orodan decided to part ways with the Vedharna siblings.
He still found it a bit melodramatic that a mere defeat got the younger sibling in such a foul mood, especially when she’d won four out of five of her qualifying matches and would be making it into the tournament.
The pouting looks she kept shooting him as she sulked were truly excessive in Orodan’s opinion.
But now, with a moment of silence and nobody around, Orodan pulled out the tome.
“Alright, I know you heard everything we were speaking of, so it’s time for you to talk,” Orodan said as he pulled it out. “Don’t even think about pulling that whole farce of pretending you’re a regular book to make me look stupid.”
While Orodan was reputable, and his word was typically believed… he still felt dumb whenever he pulled out his incredible talking book and it decided to act like a regular one.
He opened the book and peered directly into it.
The reply he got was a deluge of raw pain.
He simultaneously received a psionic assault and an attack upon his soul.
“Your attitude in response to my reasonable request is quite annoying,” Orodan grunted out as he withstood the horrific pain. His Pain Resistance had levelled to the point where he was starting to get used to it. “We both know you’ll break first by trying to assault me. I’m sure you’re aware of my overcommitment issues by now.”
The assault continued for ten more seconds until it finally stopped, and the voice shrieked in outrage.
“You! Do you not understand the concept of allowing a woman her secrets?!” it roared. “Should I start assaulting you till you reveal how you’re so monstrously strong?!”
“Well, you’d fail, but I see your point,” Orodan replied. “I suppose I’ve been rather obnoxious, haven’t I? I’m told that diplomacy isn’t my strong point. But try to look at it from my perspective! I acquire a fancy new book that won’t even share its secrets with me! And the amount of pain you can dish out has been a bit sub-par lately too.”
“First of all, I’m not some shiny toy you can just poke and dispense answers from,” it spoke. “I’m a sapient being trapped inside of a book due to exigent circumstances. And your unfathomable level of growth in Pain Resistance is beginning to go beyond even my expectations.”
“Ah, apologies then. What do you want to be referred to as?” Orodan asked. “Exus Baldrimon is historically known as a man, but your voice is rather feminine. Not that I care about such things.”
“Just… I am a woman, that is all,” she replied and Orodan mentally acknowledged it in his head moving forward. “While you have been weathering my assaults with anomalous persistence, we have yet to agree upon a standard of conduct and some ground rules.”
“Very well, I admit I’ve been quite rude and brash in dealing with you. I’m not known for my social skills,” Orodan replied. “What rules do you have?”
“First, enough of that painful skill you have that returns my assaults more than twofold,” she spoke. “It’s abhorrent and I know you can choose to withhold it if you want.”
Orodan nodded in agreement.
“Second, I will not speak in front of anyone but you,” she said. “Do not attempt to parade me around people and do not try to prove that I can talk through dumb tricks. I will not be amused.”
Fair. He agreed to that as well.
Mainly because didn’t want to hear that jerk Rosvedir make some wisecrack about having a sadistic woman companion trapped in a book who enjoyed inflicting pain on him.
“Finally, keep me away from any Gods or their Avatars. I will not explain why, just respect my wishes.”
This, Orodan couldn’t strictly guarantee.
“Not that I disagree, but my circumstances bring me into contact with Chosen and Gods quite often. Including potentially fighting them,” Orodan replied. “Can you at least settle for being kept in my spatial ring while I deal with them?”
“What a dangerous life you live… but I can agree to that compromise as long as you never allow me to be examined directly by an Avatar,” she spoke. “You will also work on procuring an enchanted spatial ring that is recalled to a safe location upon your death.”
It would’ve been a tall order for a regular person. But fame was useful, he could just ask Burgher Ignatius for such a thing, or even go directly to one of the Master-Enchanters who would be willing to do it for him as a favor.
“Excellent, so does this mean you’ll now tell me about how I can quickly learn dragon magic spells?”
“What dragon magic? I’m just a necromancer,” she spoke, and Orodan gave her an unamused look. “Alright, alright… but it’ll be expensive and painful to immerse yourself in such a method. Plus, depending on which way you desire… it can be quite morally dubious.”
Morally dubious? Orodan would rather not engage in the wholesale slaughter of innocent dragons just to get a leg up quickly.
He had a time loop on his side, he could eventually attain anything.
Painful methods on the other hand…
…that just sounded fun.
***
“Instead of taking the truly efficient method of just slaughtering a few thousand young dragons and conducting a ritual with their blood, you chose the hard way?” she asked. “Such morals… how boring.”
“Shut it you dusty crone, I’m not taking a shortcut to quick power when I have all the time in the world,” Orodan replied. “Why would I kill anyone when I can just get a dragon to donate a decent amount of blood by filling up the main battery of their settlement?”
“Because it’s a far faster method?”
“Because it’s a cowardly method. I’ve dealt my fair share of death… sometimes not in the clearest state of mind,” Orodan spoke recalling how he butchered raiders and members of House Argon. “But there’s no warrior spirit in slaughtering the weak.”
Rosvedir had personally donated the requisite amount of blood. Which given the dragon’s massive body, was nothing for the old monster.
Dragon blood was often traded at high price by the dragons themselves for this reason. A mountain sized dragon could sell a drop of its blood for a fortune, with little concern for itself.
It was also why the Novarrians enslaved dragons, and the dwarves hunted them.
“Fine, keep your morals… I hope you’re ready for an absolutely excruciating amount of pain,” she warned. “Activate the ritual circle.”
Orodan did as she asked.
Frankly, he knew nothing about setting rituals up. But his know-it-all companion did.
Under her guidance he simply drew the circle within a training chamber at Bluefire using the donated dragon blood from Rosvedir. Various ritual focuses were placed at specific points of the circle, and the majority of the dragon blood was poured into a pool where Orodan sat.
His skin had multiple cuts, meant to allow for the dragon blood to seep in.
With an outpouring of his mana, the circle activated.
[New Skill (Uncommon) → Magical Rituals 13]
Thirteen levels in one instant. Truly, piggybacking off the work of a superior ritual-crafter was a quick way to make gains.
For the initial levels at least.
His blood boiled as the ritual circle glowed and caused the dragon blood within the pool to glow and run rampant into the cuts on his body.
He consciously held Harmony of Vitality back from healing his flesh.
Vitality was unique to each individual. The soul was what attuned it and allowed one to make it their own. Orodan could use Vitality Black Hole to convert and steal all the vitality of the draconic blood pool, but it would defeat the purpose of the ritual.
But the massive amount of foreign vitality sought to bend his own to its nature.
His mind, his body, it rebelled against the invading dragon blood. It sought to warp his very nature, but Orodan would not allow it.
If he let his willpower slack, he would lose his mind and be maddened. He would become some sort of hybrid abomination.
It was in this in-between state where his body was being ravaged, that the learning speed would be most profound. Where he could grasp critical insights quickly.
“Well don’t slack, get to studying,” she said, and Orodan didn’t have to be told twice.
The thick tomes on draconic magic in front of him were immediately opened, and he got to furiously reading.
The difference…
…was incredible!
He truly felt as though he was understanding the way of the dragon. That as the blood sought to warp him, he acquired profound insights into the process of learning the basic Draconic Fireball spell.
His talent in mana was utterly atrocious of course, but with endless willpower he would never lose focus from beginning to end.
Furthermore, his time with the blood was limited as it was actively draining. He had at most twelve hours before all the blood would run out.
So, he took his first mentor’s advice seriously, and strained like a rabid dog in each instant of time, to make the most of it.
His own blood leaked from his pores at how hard he was exerting himself mentally. His minds were quadrupled, and he strained like there was no other alternative.
He even decided to go one step further in letting the blood mix by churning Eternal Soul Reactor hard enough to become a puddle of flesh, only his half-melted head remaining so that he could read using his eyes.
“Eww… how grotesque… I like it!”
Orodan ignored the annoying blabbermouth.
Also, because his lungs were a molten part of the puddle of flesh, and he couldn’t speak.
Just barely, he kept himself in this pseudo-puddle state so that the dragon blood could intermix even more easily and grant him a bigger benefit. Only his head was halfway melted.
Harmony of Vitality was truly pushed to the limit as it struggled to keep him alive. He treaded an incredibly thin line, a razor’s edge between life and death.
His endless willpower the only thing allowing him to retain the impossible concentration that allowed for all this.
An hour passed.
Orodan Wainwright was utterly immersed in the way of the dragon.
But he was not a dragon, such a species was not his goal.
Even as Rosvedir’s blood sought to turn him into something other than human, he refused. He knew deep down, that merely being a dragon was not the superior path.
His own Body Tempering, his own soul skills and vitality… down the line he genuinely believed he could ascend himself to a physically superior form. One that was beyond mere dragons.
So, he simply sat… and studied.
Six more hours passed, and he felt he was understanding something profound about the mentality of a dragon.
In a sense, they were stupid.
Just like Orodan!
It was more simplicity than stupidity, but that was beside the point. It meant their spells which seemed so complex, could in fact be looked at and understood simply through a certain lens.
That lens being… more power.
Power was the language of dragons.
Orodan understood it quite well even without this ritual, but to view it from the perspective of a dragon was different in minute ways that helped him understand the spell better.
Twelve hours passed, and Orodan felt as though he had made massive progress in comprehending the spell compared to simply sitting down and studying under the supervision of the dragons.
His talent in magic casting was beyond pathetic.
But even with that atrocious talent, when one had infinite willpower and the ability to never lose focus or care about pain… gains could still be significant.
While he wouldn’t be learning the spell in a day, or even a week. Orodan felt that close to the time the tournament came along in six weeks, he would acquire the first level of Draconic Fireball.
***
Three more weeks passed from that point.
Frustratingly, no skills above 75 increased, with the exception of Pain Resistance. But it was expected.
Without the threat of real death how could he improve when Masters could take decades to reach their status?
His training with the dragon blood ritual progressed and he was inching closer to making a breakthrough. His training with the lasso would soon pay off closer to the tournament as well.
Regardless, his training continued normally, and soon, Burgher Ignatius Firesword called him to the Verdant Gardens for another social gathering.
In truth, he hadn’t spoken to the man since his mentor Arvayne Firesword had been altered by Agathor. Burgher Ignatius likely didn’t know about that situation. And if Orodan was being honest, he didn’t want to place the burden of that knowledge upon the man’s head.
The Burgher was an Elite, a decently strong and high-level one… but an Elite nonetheless. It was for the best if the man simply dealt with the problems of his station and nothing more.
Orodan would step in and protect House Firesword if Arvayne wasn’t able.
But for now, he had a social gathering to attend. The last one he would have before the Inter-Academy Tournament started and the Eldritch Avatar descended.
It had been a good loop.
Orodan found himself oddly melancholy at the thought that all of this would reset with his probable death in five weeks.
“My young friend! Why do you have such a grim look upon your face?” Burgher Ignatius spoke merrily as he personally received Orodan at the landing zone of the Verdant Gardens. “You’re far too young to be looking so world weary. You’ll have all the time in the world to sulk as the years pass.”
All the time in the world? Certainly.
All the time in this loop? Not quite.
He shook his head to dispel the emotional weight that had been gathering around his heart as the days passed.
“Ah… what can I say Burgher? Thinking about how to spend my share of all this wealth House Firesword has come into can be stressful,” Orodan remarked. “I’ve been thinking of getting a fancy spatial ring.”
The Burgher laughed loudly.
“Mister Wainwright, if you want to buy an entire town, I can arrange for that too!” the man jovially remarked. “You’ve brought us such a windfall that I frankly don’t know what to do with all this wealth we’ve come into. For the first time, we’re rich enough to hire Masters outright if we wished. The one weakness of our house, not having anyone at the Master-level… can now be solved with gold.”
“I would advise against it. The loyalty bought with coin can be a fickle thing,” Orodan replied. In his early loops, he’d seen enough of House Argon’s loyalty when their enforcers were faced with some adversity. “A house is only as strong as the people who are actually beholden to it. Rather, I’d suggest using the gold to truly invest in the loyal people who already serve you. Your sworn man, Geldric Sunfire for example, is a good starting candidate.”
“Hmm, I find myself agreeing with your wisdom Mister Wainwright. I wouldn’t want a Master bought with gold who could bully me within my own house either,” Burgher Ignatius said. “Geldric will appreciate the good word you’ve put in for him. You are wiser than your years would indicate.”
Orodan wouldn’t say he had wisdom as much as he was street smart and world wise to certain things. A side effect of being through so much bloodshed was getting to see some of the inner workings of noble houses and factions.
“You flatter me, Burgher. I have to admit I’ve missed your social acumen and commentary on political affairs,” Orodan said. “How’ve you been? How’s the house doing?”
“I’ve been just marvellous my friend. Ever since the energy well venture House Firesword truly has soared into the upper echelons of Republican society,” the man spoke. “Much like House Arslan in Anthus, we get to levy a small tax on everything that comes out of the well due to our mineshaft being used as the primary entrance to it and us having majority control of the town.”
The tax was a minuscule one, but it added up when one considered the sheer value of some of the rare resources procured in the energy well and the quantity being sourced.
“Not bad… soon you might even become the next High-Burgher. Although that sounds like more of a headache than it’s worth,” Orodan replied.
“Gods no! My position on the council is stressful enough as it is. High-Burgher? No thank you my friend.”
“Anyhow, how’s everyone else doing lately?” Orodan asked.
“Why, everyone wants to meet you Mister Wainwright,” the man answered. “We have quite the attendance at the Verdant Gardens tonight. Not only is everyone of importance in Volarbury county in attendance… so are some influential people from the Capital.”
Thankfully, the man spared him from being the subject of a speech this time. A crier for the venue loudly announced him as he entered, to an excessive number of cheers and mutters. And soon they simply got on with the socializing.
The Burgher guided him to the very first group that wanted to meet him. It consisted of familiar faces such as Gideon Fusturus, the Elite-Alchemist of the house, Helga Firesword the Burgher’s cousin, and Geldric Sunfire who waved at Orodan with a smile as he approached.
“Mister Wainwright! Your accomplishments in securing the energy well have made waves throughout the entire nation, do you ever sit down to reflect on just how famous you are?” Gideon asked. “But I’m even more impressed however, by the news I heard of that Grandmaster-level potion of curse dispelling you helped create… marvellous, truly incredible.”
“I don’t quite have the time to read the papers anymore, and my days are spent in training or study, so I don’t meet the public much,” Orodan replied. He felt the Alchemist was laying it on a bit thickly, but such was the natural consequence of being a bit too famous and talented. “I hope you’ve been well and the potions we created together have helped you.”
The man happily nodded in confirmation, and then Helga Firesword interjected.
“Truly… I’ve heard you keep delaying the meeting with Master Gormir Eltros, bit of a perfectionist when it comes to Enchanting are you?” the diminutive woman asked. “I’d have jumped at the chance to work under that man directly.”
“I’m not any kind of prodigy when it comes to Enchanting,” he replied. “Much as the thought of body enchantments intrigues me, I wouldn’t want to get ahead of myself before solidifying my foundations.”
“Sir, from the moment we first met you’ve been going ahead of yourself,” Geldric Sunfire interjected. “Causing a whole ruckus in the energy well by your lonesome had me and the rest of the retainers sweating for two weeks till you surfaced!”
They laughed, they bantered, and they caught up.
It was nice to reunite with these familiar faces who he’d met near the beginning of this long loop. But as Orodan spoke he really didn’t want to get too close.
The time loop worked in his favor most of the time.
But its tendency to undo everything would work against him in this instance.
He didn’t want to dwell on it all resetting soon.
Soon, he was swept away in the ebbs and flows of the social life. He ate some great food, and he conversed with all sorts of strange people from the Capital who he’d never met before.
High-end merchants tried to market their goods to him, and some even attempted to ask him to persuade the Burgher to waive the tax on their goods from the well. Orodan ignored these people and decided that business matters were best left for Ignatius Firesword.
Soon, his carefree mood came to an end as he saw a particular woman.
One accompanied by her two children.
Katareya Eldragon approached Orodan Wainwright.
Accompanying her was Novus Eldragon and Lucifreya Eldragon.
Orodan had never felt so uncomfortable in all his lives.
“Lady Katareya, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Orodan politely asked.
“Why, when the Burgher of a house that has come into such wealth recently throws a grand party… what can we do but attend?” she spoke. “Why else would I be here, Mister Wainwright?”
Orodan sensed a teasing tone in her voice but still wasn’t sure on exactly where they stood.
He hadn’t spoken to Katareya since he saw her prior to delving the energy well, and definitely not since he and Novus had had their confrontation.
Did he care about Novus’s opinion? Not particularly.
But the boy was giving him a very forcibly neutral look all the same. And next to Novus, Lucifreya looked like she wanted to run away.
“I know why he’d be here,” interjected a familiar energetic voice. “He’s participating in the Inter-Academy Tournament soon! He’s a bit of a famous person.”
From behind, Mahari and her brother Altaj had arrived.
“I didn’t know you’d be in attendance,” Orodan spoke, glad to see people he considered friends at this awkward gathering. “Wasn’t aware the Burgher invited you two. Glad you’re here though.”
“Pfft! The world doesn’t revolve around you Orodan!” Mahari teased. “We get invitations to parties too.”
“What my sister means to say Mister Wainwright,” Altaj spoke gently, in contrast to his sister’s animated words. “Is that House Vedharna is considered of some importance, and we were naturally invited as well. How’ve you been?”
“Quite good. This is probably the last chance I’ll have to do anything like this,” Orodan answered. “Might as well enjoy it while I can.”
“Oh, surely you’re being melodramatic. Your life will be filled with social gatherings aplenty after the tournament,” Katareya replied. “I hear you’re poised to do well in the event.”
Orodan didn’t think he was being melodramatic, but he was the only one in the conversation aware of what was coming down from the stars in five weeks.
“He does have one of Bluefire’s preferred spots,” Altaj replied. “Well earned given all his accolades. He’s very likely the strongest student at our academy.”
“Yes, yes. But you know what’s more impressive? Your sister, the first-year, qualifying for the tournament,” Orodan spoke. “Mahari’s quite the prodigious mage if I say so myself.”
Orodan didn’t think he’d praised her thickly enough for the dark-skinned girl to blush, but she recovered quickly.
“And if I hadn’t met that stupid time mage, I’d have won all five of my matches too,” she grumbled. “We’ll see how far I can make it. I’m still in my first year anyways.”
“Truly? Very impressive,” Katareya interjected. “It’s excellent to see a woman make something of herself.”
“If you’ll excuse me mother, I believe I see my friends over there,” Novus interjected and left before Katareya could say anything. Lucifreya joined him.
Not that it would be pleasant to have your mother praise people who qualified for the Inter-Academy Tournament while you hadn’t. But who knew what deeper dynamics were in play in the Eldragon family?
Katareya simply gave Orodan a familiar smile, now that her children were gone perhaps they could clear the air?
“Come Orodan! I think I see more of our friends!” Mahari interjected and basically dragged him by the arm as Altaj accompanied her.
Well, he supposed Katareya could wait.
Mahari dragged him around to a few more groups of students from Bluefire.
The attendance at the Verdant Gardens was truly staggering this time compared to the first. He saw even the High-Burgher in attendance alongside various council members.
Finally, as he was being dragged around by this overly energetic girl it was they who were approached for once.
By a man and his group of cronies he hadn’t seen since his first day at Bluefire.
“Mister Wainwright, a pleasure to see you again,” Elucian Arslan spoke as his hangers-on practically drank in his every word. “You never ended up coming by the Helmward Hall. But given how busy you’ve been with all your accolades I hear about, it’s more than understandable.”
Orodan hummed in acknowledgement.
He didn’t know why, but he always felt that Elucian was a bit strange and had a fake persona surrounding him. The sycophantic followers he had with him weren’t helping the impression Orodan got of him.
“Elucian, how’s the party been treating you?” Altaj gracefully rescued Orodan by asking. The man picked up on Orodan’s unwillingness to engage overly much with the Arslan.
“Why, I’m in a delightful mood as always Altaj,” Elucian replied. “I’ve been meaning to talk to Mister Wainwright for a while now, however, would you mind if we stepped away for a moment?”
Orodan actually agreed with this.
“Fine by me, long as your friends give us some privacy too,” Orodan said gesturing towards the servile lackeys of Elucian.
They didn’t look happy about the suggestion, but they complied.
He and Elucian walked out to a balcony of the venue overlooking the town of Trumbetton. Nobody else was out here.
“Alright, I’m going to be blunt, your mannerisms are strange and off-putting,” Orodan said candidly. “Your henchmen don’t help the impression I get. What do you want?”
Elucian looked shocked for a moment… and then he laughed.
“Truly, your reputation does not lie Mister Wainwright, I see I was approaching you incorrectly all this time,” Elucian said. “I too find those flatterers annoying, but my uncle insists I allow them around me to keep their families happy. Supposedly their houses were promised my protection and assistance in the academy by House Arslan.”
“Sounds exhausting,” Orodan curtly replied. “But to the point, what is it that you’re after?”
“What I’m after, is your help with ensuring Vespidia Aulmalexis suffers an unfortunate accident when you inevitably fight against her during the tournament,” Elucian spoke.
He was about to continue but Orodan immediately interrupted him.
“No.”
“What? But she’s an enemy of the Republic you’d be-”
“No. I don’t care what she is, I’m not resorting to underhanded tactics,” Orodan replied. “Your slimy disposition was already off-putting, and then you approach me with this cloak and dagger nonsense? I can beat this woman into the ground by myself, no trickery required.”
“I see… I’ll take my leave then,” the man spoke diplomatically. “Have a good rest of your night, Mister Wainwright.”
As Elucian Arslan left Orodan reflected that it was probably best to hammer the point to idiots like him early on. Perhaps if he’d made his intent clear on the first meeting this needn’t have happened.
He spent some more time on the balcony until he noticed a figure he was certain wasn’t there originally.
“I don’t have any detection skills, so I assume you only allowed yourself to be seen now?” Orodan faced the figure and spoke out.
A feminine figure covered by a brown hooded cloak.
She looked as stereotypically nefarious as it got.
“Should you be giving out such information about your weaknesses, Orodan Wainwright?” she asked. “What if I was an assassin, waiting to strike all this time?”
“Then I would welcome the fight and face you down,” Orodan replied. “Shall we take this out of town then? Wouldn’t want to destroy all of Trumbetton.”
The woman’s partially shrouded eyes actually widened a bit at the frank challenge. She unconsciously backed up a bit and raised her hands in a gesture of peace.
[Intimidation 7 → Intimidation 9]
“The rumors about you don’t lie, you really are a complete battle-maniac,” she spoke. “I see you also refused to accept that scheming half-wit’s proposal? That boy thinks too highly of himself as some sort of political mastermind… hoping to strike against the Republic’s enemies while still in school. He’ll learn the hard way one day by biting off more than he can chew.”
“I don’t engage in cheap tricks and schemes,” Orodan honestly replied. “I’ll just beat this Vespidia Aulmalexis into the ground with my own two hands.”
“And this is why you’re far more dangerous than a scheming idiot like Elucian Arslan will ever be,” she spoke. “Schemes, intellect and tricks can only take you so far. What really matters, is strength and violence, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Without strength, how can anyone live a life on their own terms? Of course I agree,” Orodan replied. “I never got your name.”
“Ah, of course. Here you are talking about how you’ll beat me down without cheap tricks during the tournament and I haven’t even introduced myself,” she spoke. “Vespidia Aulmalexis, at your service. I suspect you’ll have your work cut out for you in the arena, Orodan Wainwright.”
“You’re rather forthcoming about your identity when you’re cloaked in a hood,” Orodan spoke. “I wasn’t aware invitations were sent out across the border for this little get-together.”
“They weren’t, I’m self-invited,” Vespidia replied with a grin. “I also have a gut feeling you aren’t the type to rat me out.”
“They say you’re a reincarnator,” Orodan remarked.
“They say you’re an Avatar,” she fired back.
That assumption about him was incorrect. But when Eternal Soul Reactor was flaring to the max and his eyes were glowing white, one could easily mistake the visual for an Avatar’s descent.
Who knew if the assumption about her was incorrect as well?
“Fair enough, I won’t pry,” Orodan replied. “Why have you come here though? Don’t tell me it’s actually to assassinate me?”
“And die in the attempt when I’m swarmed by dozens of other high-level people?” Vespidia asked. “I’ve also heard about your toughness. I suspect I wouldn’t kill you in time before that occurred.”
“But you do believe you can kill me?” Orodan asked.
“We’ll have to test that in three weeks,” she answered.
“I look forward to it.”
Orodan would have spoken further if not for Mahari barging out onto the balcony.
In an instant, Vespidia was gone, as though she never existed.
A dangerous skill, and a slight warning to him of what he would face in the arena.
“Orodan! Did that clown Elucian Arslan try to bully you? I’ll tell him off for you!”
He could only sigh at her antics and ruffled her curly hair, which caused her to angrily swat his hand away like a grumpy kitten.
Three more weeks till the Inter-Academy Tournament, and five more weeks till he faced the divine forces arrayed against him.
Who else but Orodan Wainwright could say they had such hopeless odds stacked against them?
But, even if he could time loop, he cared not.
He would fight to the bitter end as though it was his last chance.
Novarrian rogue or elven prodigy, God of War or Eldritch Avatar…
…Orodan would show them all what the endless willpower of one warrior was capable of.
