Chapter 336: Protection (Patreon)

Hollow footfalls echoed against the fortified walls as Darrin led Alaric and me down a long winding stair that took us deep underground.

What greeted us at the end of the short journey was a thick, rune-inscribed door that opened into a large training area. My gaze swept the wide room as memories of the training grounds in the flying castle, where I had trained with Hester, Buhnd, Camus, and Kathyln after becoming a Lance, resurfaced.

With the nightmare about Tess and Cecilia still fresh in my mind, the past felt like it was floating closer to the surface than usual.

That seems like another lifetime ago, I thought with a sigh, halting in the doorway.

‘That brings up a good question: exactly how many lives do you have, anyway?’ Regis inquired, his incorporeal form radiating amusement and genuine curiosity. ‘Nine, like a cat, or are you more like a river nix, just molting and remolting forever?’

A river nix?

‘It’s this tube shaped little mana beast that lives in the rocks underwater. It sheds its crystalline exoskeleton every morning, coming out brand new, and if you cut one in two, both halves regenerate.’

Stepping into the training room, I considered what it would be like to sprout a clone of myself every time one of my limbs was lopped off.

Regis cursed in my head. ‘Please forget I said anything. That image is horrifying.’

Like the door, runes were inscribed into the floor, along the walls, and across the ceiling. I followed a line of the runes, trying to determine what they were for.

“Warding runes,” Darrin confirmed. “To keep the house above safe. It means I can pretty much go all out down here without even waking Sorrel from her nap.”

It was an impressive training room, though not quite as grandiose as the one in the flying castle.

“So after going against the high judges and a named blood for me, this is all you wanted?” I asked, still browsing the unembellished room. “A sparring session?”

Alaric picked lazily at his ear. “He’s just weird like that.”

“Really? I think it’s normal for a fighter to want to always test himself,” Darrin replied as he stretched on the ground.

“Excuse me, Mister Darrin!” Sorrel chimed in from the door. The children were clustered around her and peeking eagerly into the training room. “Sir, the children were hoping they could come watch?”

Darrin looked at me, and while I wasn’t keen on showing my combat prowess to even more Alacryans, these were just children. “I don’t mind.”

The retired ascender beamed in delight as he waved them in. “It’ll be a great experience for them!”

“I should’ve charged you for this,” Alaric groused.

“The amount of alcohol you’ve already inhaled from my shelves should be enough to call us even for this favor,” Darrin said with a wink.

As the children situated themselves into the far corner of the room, Briar walked in through the door. With a towel draped across her shoulders and sweat shining on her face, she took a seat with the rest of our audience.

While Adem and the other children were obviously eager for the show, Briar watched me even more critically than the judges of the High Hall.

“Do you need some time to warm up?” Darrin asked, getting back up to his feet.

I shook my head, throwing the outer robe that Sorrel had provided for me on the ground.

“A couple rules then,” he went on, stretching one arm across his chest. “No killing or maiming, obviously.” Darrin followed this statement up with a smile to make it clear he was joking. “Since we don’t have Shields—”

“I can create a barrier around myself,” I said, knowing he was about to find out anyway.

Most of the Alacryans I had fought in the war hadn’t been able to protect themselves with mana, instead relying on their battle groups, specifically the mages known as Shields, to protect them. My experience with other ascenders in the Relictombs suggested not all Alacryan mages were so strictly limited, but I didn’t want my ability to stand out too much.

“Good,” he said. If he thought it was odd, he didn’t give that away. “Specialization has become popular ever since the simulets allowed ascenders to climb the Relictombs together, but I’m a firm believer that versatility has much more merit when things go wrong.”

“Stop preaching,” Alaric booed. “None of these whippersnappers want your outdated opinions.”

“You probably experienced it yourself, Grey,” Darrin continued, ignoring the old drunk’s comment and the children’s snickers. “The Relictombs require flexibility and creativity if you want to survive.”

I simply nodded as Regis’s voice rang in my head.

‘Yeah, show some more creativity than “imbue body with aether, punch things,” princess. Didn’t you used to be a quadra-elemental mage?’

True, but I couldn’t regrow an arm back then, I thought flippantly.

‘…Touche.’

“Any other rules before we get started?” I asked.

“I normally wouldn’t mention this, but I’d say, for you, avoid big attacks in the direction of the children,” Darrin added with a wry smile. “That barrier is sturdy, but after what I saw against those mercenaries, I’m not so confident in it.”

I allowed a small chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

From beyond the barrier, a chorus of supportive shouts rang out from Pen and Adem, encouraging Darrin. He gave them a gracious wave before settling back into a fighting stance, his fists raised like a boxer.

No shouts of support from my usually-mouthy companion? I asked Regis, poking him mentally.

‘Woo, go Arthur,’’ he replied drolly.

Gee, thanks…

Darrin nodded, indicating he was ready, and I returned the gesture.

Instantly, Darrin’s form blurred as he lunged forward, his fist snapping out at my chin. Catching the attack mid-strike, I redirected the blow away while pivoting my forward foot behind me, reversing my stance.

He carefully avoided overbalancing or opening himself up for a counter attack, instead throwing another jab, feinting, and throwing a hook at my ribs instead. I stepped forward, inside the punch, and drove my elbow into his chest, sending him stumbling back a couple of steps.

The children’s cheers went quiet as Darrin rubbed the spot where I’d hit him. “That was…fast,” he said appreciatively.

“Get him Uncle Darrin!” Pen yelled.

Cracking his neck, Darrin fell back into his fighting stance before launching a flurry of punches and kicks. He struck with brutal efficiency, moving between attacks with fluid grace born of long practice. The athletic ex-ascender would have easily outclassed most people in hand-to-hand fighting, even without his magic.

But most people hadn’t been trained by an asura.

I avoided my opponent’s blows without counterattacking for a handful of exchanges, letting him maneuver me around the training floor as he attempted to pin my back to the wall, then, when he was fully in his rhythm, I reversed course, responding to every blow with one of my own.

In moments I had the Alacryan backpedalling, flailing to defend against attacks that were both stronger and faster than his. When he extended his back leg too far to keep his balance, I swept the front leg, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Groans and disbelieving yells came from our small audience. Ketil was on his feet, his face practically pressed against the inside of the mana shield, and even Briar’s once critical gaze was nowhere to be seen.

Darrin’s experience as an ascender shined as he immediately rolled backwards over his shoulder to come to his feet in a single motion, his face now a mask of determination. He nodded again, waiting for me to do the same.

This time, when he snapped out a jab, his fist fell well short of my body, but a slight change in air pressure prompted me to dodge anyway. Something hard and heavy brushed past my left cheek, clipping my ear.

The layer of aether clinging to my skin absorbed the attack, but I was certain the strike would have knocked an unshielded opponent out cold had it landed squarely.

“You even managed to dodge that, huh?” Darrin noted behind his tight guard. “That’s a bit disheartening.”

“You caught me off guard,” I admitted, watching his eyes carefully for his next move.

“Maybe, but it seems like your monstrous speed and reflexes managed to make up for that,” he replied before taking a few steps back, putting more distance between us.

Realizing what he intended, I rushed toward him, but was met by a barrage of attacks from every different direction. The direction of the attacks didn’t seem to correlate with his physical movements at all, and he was good at masking his intentions by focusing anywhere except where the blows would come from.

Although I couldn’t sense the wind-attribute mana’s formation, there was a faint rush of air ahead of each attack. I ducked and wove, using my enhanced senses to track each extended punch by that subtle woosh, but the barrage was enough to keep me from closing in on Darrin to counter attack.

‘Can’t you just…I don’t know, charge through?’ Regis asked, bored. ‘Or are you showing off your fancy dance moves?’

A smile formed on the edge of my lips. I can, but where’s the fun in that?

‘Ah, we’re going for fun. Got it.’ Regis cleared his throat before shouting like an announcer at a prize-fight. ‘Aaaand the retired ascender is keeping Arthur Leywin on the ropes! Can the Thrasher from Ashber come back from this one?’

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I dashed forward, my feet carrying me forward in a zigzag path toward my opponent as I weaved between his bombardment.

Just as I reached him, the air in front of me lit up with crackling arcs of lightning, jumping around the edges of another—much larger—wind strike.

Shrouding my arms in aether, I pivoted on my lead foot. Whirling past Darrin’s blast while using my aether-clad arms as a conduit to redirect the mana, I struck back with a lightning-charged attack of my own.

Darrin threw up his forearms in a tight crossguard to block my punch. While the retired ascender skid back from the impact, the electricity surrounding my arms merely spread out like a web of flickering yellow light across his mana-clad body before dissipating.

One of the children shouted out in pure excitement, but Darrin’s attention was on my hands, which had streaks of burnt skin that branched up my arms.

‘That sure looks fun,’ Regis deadpanned.

Darrin lowered his guard, concern in his eyes as he looked at my hands. “That looks pretty bad. Maybe we should get you—”

I held up an already healing hand, and his eyes went wide as the flesh returned to its naturally pale complexion. “No need.”

Although he still wore a concerned frown, Darrin took a few steps back and indicated he was ready once more.

This time, I dove into the maelstrom of lightning-imbued wind punches eagerly, honing my focus until I saw nothing but the arcing lightning bolts and heard only the rush of wind. Darrin could throw two or three strikes per second, assuming he was going all out—which I wasn’t sure if he was, yet—and I felt a real thrill of challenge as I spun, dipped, and dodged, avoiding blow after blow.

“Your speed is amazing,” Darrin—who looked like a shadow boxer, kicking and punching at nothing—shouted from outside the storm. “But if you’re trying to tire me out, you’ll have to do better. I’ve fought for days without rest in the Relictombs before, I’ll—”

Channeling aether into my muscles, nerves, and tendons, I timed Burst Step to the sliver of an opening within the cloud of strikes and appeared at arms reach of Darrin.

He couldn’t do anything more than stare, slack-jawed, as I swiped the blade of my hand across his chest. With aether condensed and molded into a single point over my straightened hand, my attack pierced through the mana clinging to his skin and ripped a single clean line through his shirt without even touching his skin.

Much too late, Darrin brought his arms up to defend himself, then stumbled backwards away from me. This time, he didn’t get up right away.

Collecting himself, Darrin inspected the ruins of his shirt. “Well, I think I’ve seen enough.”

“What?” Adem yelled, rushing out from behind the barrier. “That attack didn’t even hit! You can’t quit now.”

“Yeah,” Pen said, stomping up behind the older boy, her arms crossed. “Uncle Darrin always wins.” Sorrel scooped the little girl up from behind, causing her to squeal with surprise.

“Adem’s just upset he lost his bet with Mister Alaric,” Briar said, standing behind everyone else with her arms crossed.

“Briar!” Adem complained, turning red.

Alaric crossed the training floor toward us, a broad grin beneath his beard. “You really should teach your ward not to gamble, Darrin. Especially not against men four times his age and infinity more wise.”

“Infinitely wiser,” Adem shot back irritably.

“Are you okay, Uncle Darrin?” Pen asked in her small voice, staring at the ex-ascender with wide, watery eyes.

He let out a good-humored laugh. “Of course, it was just a friendly match.” He stuck his fingers into the hole I’d ripped in his shirt and wiggled them at the girl. “See? Not a scratch. Never forget Pen, your uncle was the leader of the Unblooded.”

Adem and Briar groaned simultaneously.

“That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen!” the blond boy, Ketil, exclaimed. “How did you move so fast?”

“Is that how all ascenders fight?” his sister asked, her eyes glued to the floor.

“No,” Alaric said, pacing the length from where I’d Burst Stepped to where we stood now, his old face crinkled up thoughtfully.

Darrin was frowning down at my hands until he noticed my attention, his head snapping up. “Grey is both fast and strong, but don’t let that intimidate you,” he said to Katla and Ketil. “You don’t have to be able to do what Grey or I can do to be successful ascenders, but you can be just as good as we are, if you work hard.”

Katla and Ketil shared a skeptical look at this. Briar turned up her chin, glaring around fiercely as if to tell us that she would be just as good some day.

“Well, I’m famished,” Darrin announced. “Why don’t we all go get that meal?”

The housekeeper bobbed politely and wrapped one arm around Katla’s shoulders, holding Pen in the other. “Come on, children, you can help me set the table.”

Unlike before, on the balcony, the blonde twins seemed disheartened to be pulled away from the adults, their looks of awed excitement fading, as they muttered, “Yes, ma'am.”

“Can't I ask Grey some questions?” Adem asked, lingering as Sorrel maneuvered the younger children away. “That was so cool. I want to—”

“Adem,” Darrin said softly, and the boy's mouth snapped shut.

“Of course, sorry. I'll go help with dinner.”

Behind him, Briar hesitated for a long breath, but when Darrin cleared his throat, she spun and followed the others. I couldn’t help but notice when Briar stopped at the door, giving me one last inquisitive glance before disappearing.

As the group was ushered from the training floor, Alaric plucked at the tattered part of Darrin’s shirt. The blond man slapped his hand away playfully, but Alaric wore a serious frown.

“That attack could have killed you,” he said softly.

“I know.” Darrin cracked his neck and led the way out of the room. Over his shoulder, he said, “It was like my mana just melted away where the attack touched…”

Darrin guided us up the stairs and into a surprisingly small dining room with a table for four.

He pulled an ornate bottle of amber liquid from a shelf and set it down heavily, clapping Alaric on the back. “I’ve been saving this just for you.”

The old Alacryan’s eyes lit up like a child opening presents on his birthday, and he flung himself into a chair before ripping away the wax seal around the cork with his teeth.

I slid into the chair opposite Alaric and gazed around. Aside from a couple of cabinets and shelves, there was also a tall, narrow bookshelf in one corner, heavily laden with leather-bound books. Beside the shelf, a window took up most of the far wall, looking out over the hills.

“What was that move you used back there, Grey?” Darrin asked conversationally, turning his chair around so he could rest his forearms on the back. “You used something similar against those mercenaries, right? It was pretty impressive then, but seeing it up close and personal like that was…well, it was something else entirely.”

I forced out an awkward laugh and rubbed at the back of my neck. “There wouldn’t be much of a point in keeping my runes hidden if I go bragging about them to everyone I meet, right?”

“True,” he nodded. “I’m against showing off my runes as well—a few gawking looks and envious stares don’t mean as much to me as they would for most mages.”

“It’s because your runes aren’t much to look at in the first place,” Alaric jabbed as he took a generous sip from his glass.

“Anyway,” Darrin said, giving up on prying more about my runes, “I had the children eat with Sorrel in the main dining room. We have some more serious business to discuss.”

The retired ascender exchanged a meaningful look with his drunk mentor before turning back to me. “Grey, what is your plan now?”

“Now that I’ve more or less finished my preliminary ascent, I plan on heading back to the Relictombs by myself,” I answered. “At least in there, I only have to worry about the mana beasts trying to kill me.”

Darrin rubbed his chin in thought. “Do you plan on just staying inside the deeper levels of the Relictombs indefinitely? Because the first and second floors of the Relictombs are under constant surveillance, making your whereabouts very obvious to people of high power.”

“Like the Granbehls?” I asked in a challenging tone. “If they try to—”

Alaric held up a placating hand. “Look, I’m sure the Granbehls got your last message loud and bloody clear. I doubt even they’d be stupid enough to attempt another attack on you directly.”

“But that doesn’t mean they won’t tell their close named-blooded friends and their mothers about you,” Darrin continued. “And that doesn’t even account for the much more wealthy and powerful Denoirs, who also expect to be compensated.”

“And they’ve got a rather curvaceous carrot to dangle in front of you once they find you,” Alaric added with a waggle of his brows.

‘Curvaceous indeed,’ Regis agreed.

“If you’re referring to Caera Denoir, I hope you don’t think that the two of us went on some romantic getaway together in the Relictombs,” I said, a tinge of real annoyance lacing my words. “She was the one that disguised herself and tracked me down to observe me.”

“Regardless,” Darrin cut in. “From what I’ve gathered between you and Alaric, it seems like you want the freedom to be able to move as you want.”

I thought about all of the resources available that could help in Alacrya, as well as even the possibility to go back to Dicathen to see my family. “Yes. That would be ideal.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page,” Darrin said. There was a moment of silence as the two Alacryan ex-ascenders shared that look again before he continued.  “Okay, this next part might sound outlandish at first, but the best thing for you right now would be having a patron or sponsor of sorts.”

I tilted my head. “I don’t follow.”

“Okay.” Alaric scooted forward. “What you need is protection. Political protection, not the fighting kind. We know you can take care of your pretty little self. The problem is, there are only a few institutions—much less people outside of Scythes and the Vritra themselves—that would offer you the kind of immunity that would keep even Highblood Denoir from meddling. And it just so happens that I know a guy in the admissions office at Central Academy—””

“Academy?” I blurted. “Where Briar goes to school? You don’t expect me to—”

Alaric gave me a squinty-eyed frown and took another drink straight from the bottle. “This is going to take us a long time if you keep interrupting every seven words.” He paused, pinning me with a pointed look, but I stayed silent. “Yes, the very same Central Academy.”

“So, what, you expect me to…attend school?” I asked, disbelief dripping from every word.

“No, boy, I expect you to teach,” Alaric announced, a twinkle of amusement in his eye.

A/N: FOR DISCORD USERS, PLEASE DO NOT DISCUSS THIS IN CHANNEL #NOVEL-TALK AND KEEP TO PATREON-ONLY CHANNELS UNTIL THE CHAPTER IS RELEASED ON TAPAS TO PREVENT SPOILERS. THANK YOU. <3