Chapter 136: The Glimors [4]
Faelar thrust forward. The wind spear howled, tearing the air apart as it flew.
At the same instant, Alaric lunged, his body blurring with Burst Step.
The Flame Lance screamed in his hands, its tip blazing white-hot.
The moment stretched.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Professor Alrdic’s brows furrowed, his hand twitching at his side, ready to intervene if either student went too far.
Then—
BOOOOM!
Both of them collided at the center of the arena.
Wind shrieked.
Fire roared.
The explosion of pressure and heat blasted outward, rattling the hall.
Students threw up their arms against the shockwave. Sparks and fragments of swirling air filled the training ground, swallowing both duelists from view.
The dust settled slowly.
Smoke drifted through the training hall like morning mist. Students leaned forward on the benches, straining to see through the haze.
In the center of the arena, one figure stood.
Silver hair swaying, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
Oliver let out a long sigh, leaning back.
"So he lost?" he muttered.
But before the haze could clear completely—
"Is that all you’ve got?"
The mocking voice rang out behind Faelar.
The elf’s eyes widened, but it was too late. A brutal kick smashed into his back, sending him sprawling across the stone floor.
He tried to rise, but...
[Flame Arrow!]
A volley of blazing arrows ignited the air, raining toward him like fiery meteors.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
Then—
"Enough!"
Professor Alrdic’s voice boomed, calm yet laced with steel. The arrows shattered midair, scattering into harmless embers before they could reach their mark.
He stepped forward, placing himself between Faelar’s battered form and Alaric. "Killing blows are not permitted. You fail the assessment."
Alaric clicked his tongue as he turned away.
"Tch. Such a mood killer," he muttered, stalking back to his bench.
Professor Alrdic helped Faelar to his feet, then gestured to a pair of nearby students.
"Get him to the infirmary."
They hurried to comply, and the training matches resumed with a more subdued energy.
Oliver leaned closer on the bench, his voice was low but buzzing with excitement.
"Dude, that was awesome. I honestly thought you were just... you know, all bark, no bite. The scary-looking type who actually can’t—"
Alaric’s lips twitched in a faint warning.
"Watch your mouth, boy."
Oliver slapped his own hand across his lips, eyes wide.
He stayed like that for a few seconds before pulling it away, grinning sheepishly.
"Fine, fine. But I’ll admit, I thought you lost earlier, when—"
"You think I’d lose to a sack of needles like him?" Alaric cut in flatly.
This one hit the mark.
A few benches down, an elf student stiffened. His head snapped toward Alaric, yellow-green eyes flashing.
"What did you just say?"
Alaric turned his crimson gaze on him, unbothered.
"Are you deaf? Or just slow? Didn’t hear me the first time?"
Murmurs rippled instantly through the students.
The elf boy nearly stood, fury flashing across his face, only for his friend to grab his arm.
"Stop. It’s not worth it."
The yellow-eyed boy snarled but sank back down, shoulders tight with restraint.
From another bench, a cluster of pale-skinned students, snickered at the scene. Their laughter was sharp.
The elf’s glare shifted instantly to them, but they only chuckled harder, muttering under their breaths.
Alaric, however, didn’t spare them a glance. His eyes stayed fixed on the dueling ring, crimson gaze steady, as if none of it mattered enough to break his focus.
The clang of steel echoed through the training hall as another pair finished their battle. Professor Voss raised his hand, voice carrying with crisp authority.
"Next match, Elina Glimor versus Varis Kaelthorn."
A ripple passed through the gathered students.
Elina stepped forward, posture straight but careful, her scarlet hair tied back neatly.
Across from her, a tall boy with dusky bronze skin and short-cut black hair strode confidently into the ring, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Alaric’s crimson gaze followed them both. Without thinking much, the familiar cyan flicker appeared in his vision.
[Do host want to use the Scanner?]
"Yes," Alaric muttered under his breath.
The panel shifted, larger.
[Target Status]
Name: Varis Kaelthorn
Race: Human
Age: 19
Essence Path: Earth (B-Rank)
Rank: C
Stats:
STR: 95
AGI: 87
END: 133
WIL: 80
CHA: 82
INT: 110
Alaric dismissed Varis’s panel with a flicker of thought.
His gaze shifted to Elina as she adjusted her stance, fists clenched but steady.
[Target Status]
Name: Elina Glimor
Race: Human
Age: 18
Essence Path: Body (A-Rank)
Rank: C
Stats:
STR: 138
AGI: 111
END: 120
WIL: 125
CHA: 112
INT: 90
Well, she’s pretty packed up.
Then the professor’s voice rang out again.
"Begin!"
Varis acted first, stomping down with surprising force.
The floor buckled, chunks of stone rising and hurtling toward Elina like jagged projectiles.
He wanted to overwhelm her early, forcing her onto the defensive.
But Elina blurred.
Faster than her opponent expected, and with a sharp pivot she weaved between the flying rocks. Dust clouded the ring, obscuring her silhouette, until—
Crack!
Her fist broke through the wall of earth Varis hastily summoned.
The sheer physical power behind the blow sent shards flying, forcing him to stagger back.
"You’ll have to do better," Elina’s voice rang out coolly.
Varis grit his teeth, sweat beading at his temple. He slammed both palms down, sending a ripple through the ground. A jagged spike of stone erupted directly beneath Elina, aiming to impale her mid-step.
But she leapt.
Her fist, glowing faintly with condensed essence, hurled straight toward Varis’s hastily raised stone shield.
Boom!
The impact boomed across the ring.
Crack! Crack!
The shield cracked, splinters of stone raining outward. Varis stumbled, coughing as the shockwave sent him reeling.
The dust hadn’t even settled when Elina pressed forward, eyes sharp, fists ready.
Varis’s defenses were weakening, and the crowd sensed it, murmurs rippled through the seats.
Varis’s lips twisted. He slammed his foot again, summoning one last wall of earth to halt her advance—
And then the professor’s hand lifted.
"Enough. Step back, both of you!"
The students erupted in shouts of protest. It had been building to something fierce, yet the clash was cut short.
Elina halted mid-stride, her breathing even despite the flurry of movement.
Varis, by contrast, leaned heavily against his cracked stone barrier, sweat dripping down his brow, then he collapsed.
The professor’s gaze lingered on both of them, sharp and unreadable.
"This match... is over."
A collective groan of disappointment filled the hall.
"The winner is Elina Glimor," the professor declared, his voice carrying firmly across the training room.
A wave of chatter rippled through the students.
Some clapped politely, others whispered to one another about her overwhelming strength.
Elina, however, did not celebrate. She merely exhaled through her nose, steady and controlled, then turned her head. Her scarlet hair caught the light as her gaze slid toward Alaric.
For the briefest moment, their eyes locked.
Then with a faint huff, she spun on her heel and strode out of the ring.
The professor clapped once, drawing the students’ attention back.
"You witnessed flow of all of the matches. Let this be a lesson, strength is more than raw power or clever tricks. Essence paths are tools, it is your will, your adaptability, and your discipline that sharpen them." His sharp gaze swept across the room, making several students straighten nervously.
He folded his hands behind his back.
"Remember this... Those who rely only on their rank will always fall to those who understand their essence."
A silence lingered before he finally gave a curt nod.
"Class dismissed."
With that, he left the hall.
Voices began to rose, and students spilled out of the hall, still buzzing with excitement over the duel.
Alaric rose from his seat, stretching his shoulders before heading toward the exit. Oliver quickly scrambled up to join him, practically jogging to keep pace.
"Man, that was intense! Did you see how your sister just brushed off those earth spikes like they were nothing? Bam—" Oliver swung his arms dramatically, nearly hitting a passing student.
"And then Varis’ face, oh gods, priceless."
Alaric kept walking, hands tucked into his pockets.
"But hey," Oliver leaned closer, lowering his voice, "between you and me, I think she was holding back. Body Path users are freaks. Like, they can punch a hole through a wall if they want to."
Alaric grunted. "So can I."
Oliver blinked, then laughed nervously. "Right, right, you scary bastard. But you gotta admit, her control was—"
"Too stiff," Alaric cut in, his eyes flicking toward the courtyard beyond the archway.
"She’s strong, but not fluid. If she faced someone faster, she’d struggle."
Oliver tilted his head, impressed despite himself. "You really noticed that in the middle of all that? Damn... I was just trying to remember not to blink."
They stepped into the open courtyard. A breeze tugged at their uniforms.
Oliver shoved his hands behind his head. "Anyway, at least it wasn’t you in there against her. Can you imagine? Our scary guy versus his sister. The crowd would’ve eaten that up!"
"Don’t—"
Before Alaric could finish, a sharp, cutting voice rang from behind.
"So, here you are, prick."
He stopped mid-step, turning his head lazily.
He saw a yellow-eyed elf stood a few steps away, green hair catching the sunlight. His lips curled back in a sneer, ears twitching with barely restrained anger.
Behind him, four more elves fanned out like shadows. Each of them wore the same expression.
The yellow-eyed boy cracked his knuckles.
"Did you really think I’d let you off the hook?"
Oliver froze at Alaric’s side, swallowing hard. His eyes darted between the elves and his companion.
"Uh... Alaric? That’s five of them. Five. And one of me. You know I’m not built for this, right?" he muttered under his breath.
Alaric, however, only tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing with the same.
"Tch. Pointy bastards can’t even take a joke," he muttered.