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An Otherworldly Scholar - 88
🕑 Added 2023-12-29 23:59:52 +0000 UTCThe sparring room fell silent when I announced Ilya would be Istvan’s rival. The teenagers from the Farcrest team joined heads as they whispered to each other. Although I hadn’t inherited Elincia's keen hearing skills, I knew they were discussing my choice. Gnomes weren’t built to become warriors, or so people believed.
So far, I haven’t paid much attention to the other kids. Two distinct groups were sitting on the opposite sides of the bench: the nobleborns and the Guard’s recruits. I assumed the Marquis coached the first group while Captain Kiln coached the second. All the nobility kids –four boys and one girl– were human. It wasn’t surprising, considering Farcrest was primarily a human settlement. The City Guard team had a half-orc girl and a slender harpy boy with black wings.
Ilya was the only gnome in the room.
“Are you sure about this, Robert Clarke?” The Marquis asked in a neutral tone. If anything, he was a good enough diplomat not to let his feelings permeate his words. I understood him well enough to know what he was thinking. The Marquis wanted to swap Ilya for some young cadet of the City Guard.
“I trust Ilya’s skills. She will surprise you, My Lord,” I said.
“Let’s hope you are right,” The Marquis nodded as he measured the girl with his eyes. Not a trace of skepticism showed in his face. “As Ilya is our guest, she will choose the duel’s weapon,” he announced.
Was he trying to tilt the scale in Ilya's favor?
“I’m more proficient with the longsword, My Lord,” Ilya said with a bow.
“Get ready, then,” he said, turning around to meet Istvan Kiln at the other side of the dueling area. The boy smirked in our direction before turning around and letting Raudhan help him with the armored gloves.
When I turned around to meet my team, I found Zaon, Wolf, and Firana surrounding Ilya like vultures over a fresh carcass.
“Ilya, look at me, don’t be nervous. I had to prove my skills before Captain Kiln, and everything went well. You got this,” Firana said, grabbing the gnome girl’s face between her hands and forcing the girl to look at her eyes.
Ilya put her gloved hand on Firana’s face and pushed her to the side. From the group, Ilya seemed to be the only one who wasn’t nervous. It was a good sign. A focused player tended to perform better than a nervous one despite their skill gap.
“I’m going to make him regret calling me Microscopic Gnome all these years,” Ilya grunted.
I looked at Zaon for an explanation. If I recall correctly, Ilya had previously mentioned his dislike for Istvan Kiln. I didn’t expect the son of an influential family to have contact with orphaned kids.
“When Mr. Lowell was alive, many important people dropped their kids at the orphanage. Istvan used to be our playmate until they had a nasty fight over an ugly stuffed animal. They have hated each other since,” Zaon whispered near my ear.
“It wasn’t ugly!” Ilya turned around and pointed her finger at Zaon.
Of all things, I didn’t expect a decade-old playground grudge.
I cast a glance at our opponent’s corner. The Marquis and Raudhan helped Istvan secure his padded uniform while the Fortifier cast a mana shell around him. Istvan wasn’t particularly tall for a fifteen-year-old, but Ilya was still a head smaller, and her shoulders were half as wide. With the size disadvantage, Ilya was going to fight an uphill battle. The tournament would be skewed against her unless other teams had gnomes like her, which I doubted.
“Ilya, listen. Fight defensively. It doesn’t matter if he scores the first few points. Study his movements. People trust too much in skills, which means he will repeatedly abuse the same patterns,” I said.
“Like Zaon,” Wolf said as he tied Ilya’s hair in a high ponytail.
“That was uncalled for,” the elven kid replied.
Zaon was the worst offender in letting the System take control of his movements during sparring. The fact Ilya had gotten her [Longsword Mastery] late was a blessing in disguise. She had more time to become accustomed to the sword without the System backseat driving her development.
“Be careful with your head. Istvan has the reach advantage. If you don’t believe you'll reach his head, try to aim for his hands or feet,” I gave her the last instructions. The rest was on her hands.
“Yes, Mister Clarke,” Ilya said with confidence. Her eyes were fixed on Istvan Kiln, like a predator stalking its prey.
The Fortifier crossed the dueling area accompanied by Captain Kiln.
“I’ll proceed to apply the mana shields,” the man said.
“Please, do,” Ilya said.
Blue mana swirled around the Fortifier’s hands as he slowly poured it over Ilya’s head. Gradually, the mana covered her body until it formed a perfect layer around her. Despite being almost transparent, I noticed the Fortifier’s barrier was sturdier than everything I could create.
When I thought the Fortifier had finished, he poured a second barrier with a fraction of the mana of the first one.
“The rules are simple. Break your opponent’s outer barrier to win. Don't be afraid to use all your strength. The inner barrier will absorb most of the blow. Understood?” The Fortifier said.
Ilya nodded, and I gave her one last reassuring pat on the shoulder. Before Ilya could follow the Fortifier to the center of the dueling area, Captain Kiln grabbed her shoulder to stop her.
“Istvan is a level two Fencer. He knows Quick Step and has a single level in the Fencing passive. He also inherited the [Strong] trait from my family. Be careful; the barrier will not survive more than half a dozen blows,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma’am,” Ilya replied.
I didn’t expect Captain Kiln to take our side.
“Hey! Don’t tell the enemy about my skills! It’s not fair if only she knows the contents of my Personal Sheet,” Istvan yelled from the center of the room.
“If you don’t want your skills leaked, then don’t go around flaunting them,” Captain Kiln replied with a stern voice.
The noble kids laughed from the sideline.
“This goes to all of you. There will be informants from the other families seeking all kinds of information to give an edge to their teams.”
The noble kids suddenly became silent.
Ilya stepped forward and spoke loudly, looking Istvan directly in the eye. “I don’t mind making things even. I’m still classless.”
Ilya excluded the fact she had a level in [Longsword Mastery] and access to [Mana Manipulation], even with a small mana pool. If Istvan were smart, he would suspect Ilya giving incomplete information. However, in Farcrest’s culture, people assumed one needed a Class to make significant progress. I smiled. Istvan hadn’t noticed, but the duel was about to start.
“Duelist, to the center,” the Fortifier called.
I put a hand on Ilya’s shoulder and whispered a single sentence. “Use any trick necessary.” There was no point in hiding Ilya’s true potential. If we were successful, the people in the room would become our teammates. If we failed, it wouldn’t matter.
Istvan Kiln playfully swung his longsword with a smirk on his lips. The rest of us stepped back. I cast a silent prayer to whatever deity looked after these lands. I trusted my educational methods to be better than the leveling system, yet actual combat differed from practicing.
“Listen carefully. The first to breach the opponent’s mana shield wins the match. Use your skills wisely and let the System guide your sword,” the Fortifier said. “On your guard.”
I noticed the man didn’t mention anything about fighting fairly. Strange. I guessed that fighting ‘fair’ in a world with such asymmetric skill levels was nearly impossible.
“Ready?” The Fortifier said.
Ilya separated her legs and raised the sword from her hip with the point aiming at Istvan’s chest. The pflug. Despite it being a basic low guard, the grin on Istvan’s face disappeared. At least the boy was smart enough to know he was in front of at least a minimally proficient opponent.
“Fight!”
Istvan instantly stepped forward and aimed at Ilya’s face. The girl raised her sword and deflected the blow. Then, following the natural movement of her arms, she answered with a quick diagonal cut that almost reached Istvan’s hands. Before Istvan could engage again, Ilya retreated.
The Marquis mask broke down for a second. He wasn’t the only one impressed with Ilya’s movements; I was too. I tried to compose myself. The first seconds of a match served to examine the opponent’s skill, not to throw winning blows.
Istvan followed with a flurry of blows, but Ilya’s footwork was almost flawless. She retreated out of Istvan’s reach as she parried every blow. Despite her unbreakable focus, Ilya had trouble controlling Istvan’s sword. The boy seemed to notice because he delivered a powerful blow that cast Ilya’s sword to the side. Off balance, Istvan connected a blow to Ilya’s shoulder that sent her to the floor.
Raw strength was going to be a problem.
“Come on, Microscopic Gnome. Surrender already,” Istvan Kiln said.
“You got this, Ilya!” Zaon yelled from the sideline.
Ilya grabbed her sword and returned to the initial position. The barrier stood.
She circled Istvan, examining his movements. Fueled by the initial success, Istvan pressed the attack again with a quick lunge. Ilya sidestepped to get away, but Istvan activated Quick Step and chained a blow that surprised the girl. Istvan’s sword grazed Ilya’s head.
The nobles exchanged smirks, thinking the duel was already decided.
Ilya remained calm. She parried, sidestepped, and feinted, gradually getting the feel of the boy’s style. Quick-Step was a menace, but Istvan’s mana pool was small and only had a few uses before the skill drained its energy. The crowd started to cheer every time Istvan scored a hit, drowning Zaon and Firana’s encouraging shouts. The barrier, however, stood. Despite being hit repeatedly, Ilya managed to block and reduce the strength of the blows. She even managed to graze Istvan’s barrier.
Istvan used Quick Step two more times, landing another blow. Ilya’s barrier was starting to crack, but not without a cost. Istvan’s breath suddenly became heavier, as if he were suffering from the first mana depletion symptoms.
“Tired already?” Ilya said with a mocking voice.
“Look at your barrier before speaking, Microscopic Gnome,” Istvan replied.
Ilya stepped forward, not letting Istvan catch his breath, and performed a precise diagonal strike. Istvan raised his sword to block, but Ilya broke the trajectory of the blow to hit his hands. A perfect krumphau.
Istvan’s eyes shot wide open as his barrier took the full-force blow.
“Whose barrier is crumbling now?” Ilya said as she jumped back before Istvan could retaliate.
Ilya wasn’t putting on a bad show at all. Her defense was solid, and her footwork was flawless. Istvan, however, had the strength and the reach advantage. As they resumed the fight, I noticed a gleam of understanding in Ilya’s eyes. Istvan’s level in Fencing was making him go for lunges and stabs instead of using all the arsenal of movements a two-handed sword was capable of.
Ilya changed her guard, now pointing the sword's tip to the floor. Alber. Istvan clenched her teeth and lept forward, over-committing to a strike. Ilya’s barrier was a hit or two away from crumbling down, but she evaded easily and hit his hip with full strength.
Istvan’s barrier was starting to show cracks.
Nobody cheered anymore.
Before Istvan could process what was happening, Ilya pressed the attack. It was apparent from the beginning that Ilya’s footwork was better than Istvan’s; however, the boy’s strength was enough to put her off balance. The equilibrium of the match was precarious, and as the seconds passed, both sides became more passive to protect the integrity of their shields.
“Come on, Istvan. Don’t chicken out in front of a classless gnome,” Ilya taunted him.
“Shut your mouth,” he replied.
Ilya stepped forward. Mana surged from her body, and the tip of her sword emitted a white flash of light. Istvan instinctively retreated as he raised his sword to protect his head, but Ilya performed an elegant flourish and attacked from the opposite side, smacking Istvan’s head with enough force to send him to the floor.
“Classless, my ass!” Istvan quickly stood up, his pride wounded, although the barrier had absorbed almost all of the blow.
“Don’t ignore the fact you are a Fencer being kicked around by a Mage,” Ilya replied.
I massaged my temples. Maybe Ilya was taking Sun Tzu’s philosophy too seriously.
The Marquis gave me a quizzical look, but I played dumb. The noble kids’s whispers were enough for me to understand the unspoken question. How could a Mage be so proficient in dueling? The System was a two-edged sword; as helpful as it was, it also classified people into hard-set categories.
Not that I could blame them. Education back on Earth had also worked under wrong assumptions for most of recorded history.
Istvan looked alternatively at the Marquis and Captain Kiln for input.
“Spells, just as skills, aren’t prohibited,” the Fortifier explained.
Ilya’s evil smile sent a shiver down my spine. “The barrier could resist something more powerful?”
“I’m a level twenty-one Fortifier, miss. I doubt you have enough mana to scratch the inner barrier,” the Fortifier proudly said.
Given Istvan’s face, ‘Lv.21’ wasn’t particularly reassuring in the grand scheme.
Ilya took a deep breath, and blue mana sparks emerged from her eyes.
Comments
I Dare Korval
So is Ilya going to focus all her mana into a pin point attack and surprise everyone by bursting both barriers?
CF Sapper
Best Fifth Element impression "Multi-Class"!
David Gilbert
But thank you nonetheless for all that you have put out this season and for just the amazing story you have written.
David Gilbert
MOAR!
