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An Otherworldly Scholar - 138
🕑 Added 2024-06-27 06:43:56 +0000 UTCFirana fell on Duke Jorn’s arms, her face pale as paper. Before I could notice, I was running into the arena. The smell of soot assaulted my nostrils as I walked over the black patches of charred ground. Dreva Herran sat on the ground with the help of Sir Janus and Prince Adrien. I used [Identify] on Firana before I even reached the group.
Name: Firana Aias, Human (Strong, Fast).
Class: Wind Fencer Lv.1
Titles: Aias Heir, Gifted, Currents Seer.
Passive: Longsword Mastery Lv.2, Fencing Lv.2, Acrobatics Lv.1.
Skills: Aerokinesis, Windrider, Puncture, Feather Fall, Gust Blade.
Status: Mana Exhaustion Lv.3
I noticed Firana had a new title and skill, but I had no time to examine them. I let out a sigh of relief. Mana Exhaustion Lv.3 would take three or four days to recover, but I guessed we could cut that time in half with the help of Elincia’s Mana Potions. In the meantime, she would be out of action. Or so I hoped. With Firana, one never knew what she was capable of.
At least I knew where the sudden surge of mana came from; she must have gotten it in the middle of the fight. Duke Jorn carefully laid Firana down as the medical team entered the arena. She had lost all color, and her shoulders shuddered.
“Are you okay, kid?” I asked as the healers applied their magic.
Slowly, the color returned to her cheeks.
“I had it in the bag,” Firana complained, trying to control the shiver in her arms.
I was going to agree, but I bit my tongue. Duke Jorn, Sir Janus, and Prince Adrien had blinked into the arena to stop the final attack. They had seen something even the Master of Ceremonies had overlooked, and I wasn’t going to doubt three of the most powerful combatants present.
I grabbed Firana’s hand. It was freezing.
“Right… I feel better; you can scold me now,” she said.
It pleased me to know Firana was conscious of her actions.
“That was reckless, but you fought with the heart, and most importantly, you fought with your head. And that makes me really proud, Firana,” I said to the girl’s surprise. “So, if you are smart, you will rest to be in top shape for the next round.”
Firana grinned.
“You are not mad at me?” She asked.
I massaged my temples. Mana Exhaustion Lv.3 wasn’t a grievous penalty, but it wasn’t something to brush away. In the Farlands, that level of Mana Exhaustion could mean the difference between life and death. Monsters wouldn’t wait for her to recover, but I decided to wait for that lesson after the tournament.
“Miss Elincia will be mad at both of us, so be prepared,” I smiled. I could see her blaming me for passing through my recklessness to the kids. I made a mental note to act as a better role model.
The Medic Leader interrupted my train of thought.
“We will carry the combatants to the infirmary so they can properly rest,” a middle-aged woman dressed in military garments said.
“But I want to see the next fight,” Firana complained.
The Medic lady silenced her with a single glare.
“Wouldn’t a Mana Potion improve the symptoms?” I pointed out while the healers helped Firana and Dreva stand. The orc girl also seemed to suffer from Mana Exhaustion.
The Medic Leader gave me a quizzical look.
“Administering potions to strangers is frowned upon,” Duke Jorn said with his smooth and monotone voice. The man’s presence was so weak I had forgotten he was next to me. “Only Scholars, Healers, and certain merchants can identify potions. The rest of us can’t tell the difference between a Health Potion and Ashthorn Poison, so we depend on trusted physicians.”
I remembered Nasiah telling me something like that during our illegal potion operation.
“Or, you can use Detect Poison,” Prince Adrien intervened. He removed his cape and put it around Firana’s shoulders before the Medic Leader guided the healer's team into the pavilion.
I signed for Elincia to join Firana. She gave me the thumbs-up and took Wolf with her. Lord Herran’s brother jumped from his seat and put his cloak around Dreva’s shoulders, calling the family healers to join the group. A moment later, the group disappeared into the Great Hall under the crowd's cheering.
“Quite the youth we have, don’t you think, Your Highness?” Sir Janus joined the conversation.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Lv.1 breaking a Fortfier’s Barrier,” Prince Adrien replied with an entertained expression. “I’d say the Aias girl is well on track to dethrone you as the Hero of Farcrest, Janus.”
Sir Janus shrugged. “What can a Sentinel do against a Wind Fencer?”
The familiarity with which they addressed each other seemed out of place.
“Do you know each other?” I asked.
Sir Janus sighed as if the story embarrassed him.
“Janus was among the top of his class at Imperial Academy, so he had the privilege to be part of my late brother’s guard before returning here,” Prince Adrien said with a mischievous smile. “Word is he also acted as his spy, but, of course, those are pure gossip.”
Considering Sir Janus’ unrefined manners, it was hard to envision him at the royal palace. I wondered if the death of the previous heir triggered his return to Farcrest. Probably, I would never know.
“I was in charge of ensuring Prince Adrien wouldn’t kill Prince Ranga,” Janus said.
“Which I didn’t,” Prince Adrien pointed out.
Sir Janus sighed yet again.
During the feast, I learned Prince Adrien was the fifth in the succession line. Five deaths in a short period couldn’t be suspicious in any other place, but Ebros’ inheritance had more nuisance to it. Not only did the heir have to be the eldest son or daughter, but they also had to survive Baram’s Cursed Runeblade. The ducal families upheld their power thanks to the strength of their bloodlines. The royal family, on the other hand, did it by being able to use the Cursed Runeblade.
I wondered how strong the artifact was to confer authority over a kingdom. If I wanted to learn how to runeweave, I couldn’t rely on magic items created by Enchanters. I might need to examine objects made by Runeweaver Baram, but I doubted the Prince was prone to loaning the kingdom’s relic to a nobody like me.
“Shall we continue with the tournament?” The Master of Ceremonies interrupted us.
“Please,” Prince Adrien said, returning to the VIP box.
Sir Janus followed him at a polite distance while Duke Jorn blinked back into the pavilion. I walked to the bench by the pavilion's edge and sat between Ilya and Zaon. Despite the abrupt ending of Firana’s fight, the kids were relaxed, which made me think I was the apprehensive one. Kids on Earth wouldn’t go around spitting flames and conjuring blades from thin air. Luckily.
“You have to talk with Firana, Robert. She can’t go around getting Mana Exhaustion as if it's nothing, and she only listens to you. What if she has to fight for her life tomorrow?” Ilya said.
Since our little escapade to survey Kellaren’s mansion, Ilya had called me for my first name in private, at least when annoyed.
“I already have a lot on my plate. Maybe you should talk with her, Ilya. You know, because you are an adult now,” I poked her back.
Ilya rolled her eyes. “Are you always like that when you are not acting like a teacher?”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Annoying,” she replied without skipping a beat.
I shrugged my shoulders. “All teachers play a role in the classroom, and some of them get lost in the character. I don’t want to be one of them, so I try to maintain the annoyance at a hundred and ten percent.”
Ilya sighed. “No clue why Firana likes you so much.”
I had to stifle a laugh.
“I will talk to her, but giving all you have during a competition is a reason to be proud in my homeland, even if you lose in the end,” I said.
“Good enough,” Ilya replied. “I also pretend to go all out.”
The Master of Ceremonies walked to the center of the arena as soon as Prince Adrien sat on the wooden throne inside the VIP box. The intermission was short, and the spectators were still fired up by Firana and Dreva’s performance. Only the young Fortifier who had been applying the barriers seemed dejected. To have a level one destroying your barrier probably didn’t feel great.
“The last round's winner is Dreva Herran, with two points in her favor!” The Master of Ceremonies announced.
“That’s bull!” Ilya jumped on her feet, and Zaon had to stop her before she entered the arena.
I looked across the pavilion. [Awareness] told me that Lord Herran was as confused as me. Most of the spectators weren’t happy either, but the Fortifier assured that Dreva had broken the last of Firana’s barriers just before the girl had attacked with her Gust Blade.
After seeing uncountable parents making a scene in the Little League, I knew to act better.
“I guess we can’t call the Replay Operations Center in New York,” I sighed.
“The what?” Ilya asked.
“It’s a baseball thing, it doesn’t matter.”
“Baseball?” Zaon asked.
“I’ll show you later,” I said.
Despite getting a new title and skill, Firana wouldn’t be happy with the outcome. With two points against, the score was back to zero, with one favorable and one unfavorable matchup yet to be fought. Zaon faced a Mountain Druid. The strategy was simple: he had to close the distance between them before the jackalope girl could score points with her spells. Zaon needed to end up with a positive difference, so Ilya had a score buffer for her fight against the Snow Mage.
“Participants, please enter the arena. Our next fight will be Kaeli Herran, the Mountain Druid, against Zaon the Sentinel,” the Master of Ceremonies announced.
“Your turn, Zaon,” I said. “Give your all.”
The boy nodded and walked to the weapon’s rack. The tournament aides replaced the longsword Dreva had melted with a similar one, but Zaon stuck with a slimmer one, more fitting to his swift style. Meanwhile, an older Fortifier came down from the VIP box and applied the barriers over the competitors.
The heat created by Dreva’s [Heart of the Crucible] was quickly replaced with the chilling wind from the mountains.
“Why is it so cold? Shouldn’t spring be nearby?” I said, button up my jacket to the neck.
“It seems spring will be late this year,” Ilya rubbed her arms.
Zaon walked into the arena, followed closely by the jackalope girl. Unlike the other Herran kids, Kaeli didn’t share Lord Herran's muscular build. Her hair wasn’t bright red but almost chestnut brown. Stubs of horns protruded from her long, straight hair, and her bunny ears were palm long. At first glance, Zaon nor Kaeli seemed out of place in the combat arena, but I knew not to judge people for their appearance.
Both kids stood in the center, a few meters away, as the Master of Ceremonies repeated the rules.
“Excuse me, you forgot your weapon,” Zaon said.
Kaeli shook her head with a smile. “There wasn’t any I liked, but I’ll summon one. Thanks for asking.”
“N-no worries,” Zaon muttered.
Ilya sighed as she rubbed her eyes, exasperated. Zaon’s attempt to maintain fair combat was commendable, but Ilya didn’t seem in the mood to understand. I focused on the arena.
“Fight!” The Master of Ceremonies yelled, his voice echoing against the stands.
Zaon raised his guard, but the jackalope girl did not attempt to defend herself.
“Draw?” She asked as soon as Zaon took the first step forward.
“E-excuse me?” Zaon stopped short.
Everyone at the arena seemed to be caught off guard.
“I don’t want to fight, so I’m offering you to draw. We shake hands and call it a day, no sweat spilled, no sore muscles, no mana wasted, and we save energy for more important stuff,” Kaeli replied with a calm yet confident voice.
Zaon opened his mouth, but he was stunned by the proposition. Before he could come up with a reply, Lord Herran yelled from the sideline.
“This is not what we agreed on, Kaeli!”
The girl shifted to face the pavilion, ignoring Zaon, who slowly lowered his guard. She didn’t look happy.
“Stop trying to control my life, Dad. I’m an adult now!” Kaeli yelled back, her high-pitched voice barely reaching the Herran Team bench over the sound of the crowd. She showed her displeasure by stomping on the ground and crossing her arms over her chest.
A vein on Lord Herran’s forehead seemed to be about to burst.
“Kaeli Herran, you are the daughter of a Duke, and you have responsibilities for the family!” Lord Herran replied.
“I’m not your legitimate daughter!” Kaeli said, and Lord Herran recoiled as if he had received an arrow in his chest.
“You are pushing my hand, Kaeli! If you don’t do as we agreed, I will tell your mother you made a scene in front of the people!” He replied.
It seemed like Lord Herran used the magic word because a shudder ran through the girl’s body, and her ears were thrown back. She jumped around to face Zaon.
“After further reflection, I think we should fight after all,” Kaeli said.
“When you are ready,” Zaon replied.
As much as I disliked Lord Herran for trying to seduce Elincia, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for him. Despite being an idiot and a horndog, he seemed an all-right father, which I respected. The Towers of Neskarath must have a lot of rooms if Lord Herran housed the mothers of all his kids.
Kaeli channeled her mana, and golden sparks fell from the palms of her hands and onto the ground.
“Kick her teeth out her mouth before she can cast anything!” Ilya yelled from the sideline.
A vine emerged from the ground and wrapped around Kaeli’s arm all the way up to her shoulder. Then, with a little tug, the girl unearthed the vine, creating a whip about three meters long. It was a strange election for a weapon. Despite their reach, whips were widely considered an inefficient weapon for a duel, as their area of effect was small, and they couldn’t be used to block or parry. In this world, however, I feared Kaeli had magical ways of making it more effective.
Kaeli spun the whip, and with a step forward, she attacked. Zaon ducked, and the whip cracked where his head had been an instant before. Despite not connecting, Zaon squinted, the sound seemingly disturbing his ears.
“Follow her arm, not the tip of the whip!” Ilya yelled.
Zaon then pressed the attack, and Kaeli jumped back. Her movements were swift and precise. Her legs allowed her seamlessly long leaps, but the boy had his own [Light-Footed] trait to keep up. Only the whip cracking kept Zaon from narrowing the gap between them. The combat was balanced, but running forward was easier than jumping back, and slowly, Zaon gained terrain.
Kaeli charged her whip with mana and spun it around herself so fast I lost sight of it. This time, Zaon decided to keep his distance, channeling more mana and feeding [Awareness]. For a minute, they examined each other. Kaeli made no effort to go on an attack, so Zaon charged.
Kaeli countered. The whip cracked against Zaon’s shoulder, and a barrier turned into a mist of blue particles. Zaon ignored it, focused on getting past the whip’s effective range, but Kaeli pulled the whip, making it crack against Zaon’s back. He was getting close. The boy lunged, but she channeled a violent mana surge.
Kaeli’s sleeve exploded as her arm shapeshifted, gaining mass and growing chestnut fur. She raised her ursid claws and stopped Zaon’s sword. The boy’s eyes shot open in surprise, and the crowd bellowed.
Zaon retreated before Kaeli could counter, and she shapeshifted his arm back into the thin, girly arm of a fifteen-year-old. The Book of Classes listed Partial Shapeshifting among the Druid skills, but Risha and Astrid had told me it was unlikely a Mountain Druid who hadn’t yet reached level ten could have it. We weren’t prepared for it.
“I told you I needed no weapon,” Kaeli said.
Our strategy was flawed. Kaeli wasn’t weak in close-quarter combat as we had initially thought. By my side, Ilya bit her nails. Zaon would have to find another way to win the fight. If my [Awareness] didn’t deceive me, Kaeli kept her whip away from Zaon’s sword. I wondered if the boy noticed.
As expected, Kaeli didn’t move a muscle to attack.
“That’s pretty neat,” Zaon pointed out as he cleaned the sweat from his eyebrows.
“I hate it. Fleas seem to love it, and I don’t know how they manage to find me, but every time I go to the mountain, I get infested,” Kaeli replied, kickstarting her whip again.
Zaon laughed, seemingly unconcerned by the two barriers he had lost.
“Mister Lowell had a potion to kill fleas, lice, and ticks. I think I could have Miss Elincia brew a couple of vials for you,” Zaon offered, following the whip with his eyes.
“I have tried that. I can’t stand the smell of anti-lice potion; it’s the Blue Fir Bark extract,” Kaeli replied with a gagging motion, her whip still flailing around her. “Blame my mother’s bloodline for my keen nose.”
“Astrid always complains about smells. She’s a beast folk too, and she told me Mister Lowell made his potions odorless and flavorless for her,” Zaon pointed out.
Kaeli gave him a suspicious glance, her ears stuck up.
“Are you trying to buy barriers?”
“N-no! I just think you would find it useful,” Zaon blushed.
Ilya slapped her face, and I wondered if Zaon’s [Kind Hearted] title was getting in the way of his [Awareness], forcing him to come up with solutions for the problems of everyone around him. Whether it was [Awareness] going on a tangent or not, helping others was in Zaon’s DNA.
“I might be interested,” the girl said.
“Don’t listen to him, Kaeli! He’s trying to sweet-talk you! That’s how boys get you!” Lord Herran angrily yelled from the sideline.
Kaeli’s whip stuttered, and Zaon seized the opportunity to rush forward. The girl quickly recovered the pace, but Zaon channeled his mana and used [Ghost Blade] to make his sword disappear. He had realized.
Kaeli panicked and attacked, but the whip’s body hit Zaon’s blade, disrupting the tip’s momentum and rendering the movement useless. The girl channeled her mana and shapeshifted her arm, but she wasn’t sure where Zaon’s blade was. Instead of defending, she attacked. This time, however, Zaon was prepared. He activated his [Steadfast Shield], and a silvery mana plate shaped like a heater shield appeared before him. Kaeli’s claws bounced against the shield while Zaon snuck underneath and delivered two clean strikes against the girl’s barrier.
A moment later, Zaon was out of Kaeli’s range with a broad smile.
Kaeli closed her eyes and let her mana flow into the ground.
“A Mountain Druid can’t fight on the plains,” she grinned back at Zaon.
Comments
I Dare Korval
Zaon is starting to develop a small harem without even trying or realizing. I feel sorry for the guy once they all decide to get together and stop him from getting any more.
