The ward stone will need to be recharged after the beating the giant gave it," the emperor explained as he led Luke and Nel into the town. Luke was left wondering why he had been chosen to come with the pair when no other disciple had.
Is my identity already exposed? Luke thought worriedly. He did see me fly, and I doubt enchanted boots are common, but I didn't think they would link me to Carim. And I don't think he saw me pull anything out of the inventory.
But he hasn't said anything yet, either. If he wanted to turn me in to Arke, she was right there, so that can't be it, can it?
As the ruler of Sylcra droned on and on, Luke started to suspect that an answer would come, but only when the emperor willed it, which, at the rate things were going, made Luke suspect that it wouldn't be any time soon.
"Now, normally I don't do this kind of thing, but it's good to guide the younger generation from time to time. That's what my own father told me all those centuries ago, at any rate!" He nodded to the townspeople as they parted ways for the trio. Their curious eyes locked on the three cultivators as they walked purposefully through the town.
Cyzicus suddenly stopped, squinting his eyes as scanned each building. "It has been a while, but, aha! There it is!" He rubbed his hands together and marched forward, leading them to an empty plot of land at the center of the town. Luke glanced between an equally confused Nel and the smiling Hero, wondering what he was supposed to be looking at.
"Without ward stones shielding my towns and cities, the giants would have overrun Sylcra a millennium ago. With them, every time one attacks, I get alerted at the capital. Depending on the size of the town, most of them can hold off Mortal-tier Gegenees for about a week, Warrior tiers for thirty minutes, and Hero tiers for about one or two minutes. Once I have everything sorted out, I can usually teleport people where they need to go well within that time frame," he explained casually. "Or go by myself if I have nothing else to do."
Pretty cool, Luke thought. He was moderately impressed with how seriously the emperor took the safety of his people.
A ring flashed on Cyzicus's finger, and a large golden key appeared in his hand. He jabbed it forward into the air, and to Luke's surprise a giant altar shimmered into existence.
It's just like the Hero's Tomb. Huh.
"Clever bit of runework, these things. Nothing compared to what the gods can do, of course, but quite amazing nonetheless." He strode forward and rested his hand on the altar. "Especially since it was only a warrior who built these."
Immediately it lit up a brilliant gold, and an illusory bar floated atop it, roughly half-full and rapidly filling as he channeled his mana into the ward stone.
"They keep their charge by drawing on ambient mana, but it takes weeks for it to replenish itself that way—depending, of course, on the density of mana present. This particular part of the island isn't exactly mana-rich, and with the Giant Tide so close, it's better to keep it topped up." His ring flashed again, and he produced another key, which then floated through the air into Nel's hands. "This is for you, since you're a warrior now. After every battle, I want you to recharge the wards. Although it will take you longer than it does me."
"Yes, Grandfather!" Nel bowed to him, dutifully staring at the key before her own ring flashed and it disappeared.
"There's no need for formalities, child. I moved beyond such trivialities ages ago." He shook his head in exasperation and turned to Luke. "Her mother is prickly about this sort of thing," he explained with an apologetic shrug, "and none of my grandchildren are keen on listening to me above their mothers. No loyalty, I tell you," he complained, not looking particularly upset about that particular fact.
"I see," Luke said after a moment of hesitation, not quite sure how to respond to the emperor and still trying to puzzle together what the purpose behind it all was. Worry gnawed at him as one awful scenario after another ran through his head, and he desperately did not want to have landed in another situation where someone lorded his secret over his head.
"I sense something special about you," he said suddenly.
"You do?" Luke asked, wincing internally as he donned a carefully neutral expression.
I really wish you didn't, he grumbled to himself.
"Of course," Cyzicus stated matter-of-factly. "Through the millennia, I've developed a keen sense of potential, and I've learned to recognize those who possess it. I think you have what it takes to go far in this world," he said earnestly.
"I see. Thank you?"
"I speak only the truth—there's no need to thank me, child." He scratched his neck. "What's your name?"
"Luke."
His eyes widened in surprise. "Lukeus?"
"No … just Luke."
"Ah, of course. I have a grandson named Lukeus, and he insists on shortening his name. I thought you might be the same."
"We've met, although I didn't realize that you were all related."
"Oh, of course. You are a member of the Rising Sun—it stands to reason that you would have. Where was I? Oh, right. You have talent. The way you attacked the monster was truly impressive. A technique, if my eyes haven't deceived me."
Nel perked up in surprise and gazed questioningly at Luke, looking impressed despite herself.
He nodded slowly.
"No need to look so alarmed, although it is quite rare to see a mortal wield one, it isn't unheard-of. Little Agnella here was just like you in that regard." He beamed at her proudly.
"Thank you, Grandfather!" She bowed again.
He smiled as he shook his head at the gesture. "As I was saying, you're quite talented. You may not know about what's happening in the world outside my little corner of it, but fate is stirring, and it has even the gods worried. Things have been stagnant on Theos for eons, but now something is simmering under the surface. Just waiting to boil over and engulf this world in chaos."
"I'm not following," Luke said after a moment.
"Amid chaos, there is opportunity." He turned back to the altar the second the bar filled completely and removed his hand. "Opportunity, for those who seek it, to rise far beyond what is expected or even thought of as possible."
I'm really not following. Luke felt a headache forming behind his eyes as he struggled to decipher the emperor's words and what they had to do with him.
At least he's not blackmailing me. That's good, right?
"I—" Luke started to say before the hero cut him off.
"You don't get it, I know. I don't expect you to; it's fine. If it helps put you at ease, I don't care who taught you that technique, and I don't care who gave you those shoes. I really don't. I've lived long enough to understand that becoming an obstacle for someone who stirs fate, such as yourself, is a poor idea. If history has taught me anything, it is that those that get in the way of destiny are trampled underfoot. The titans learned that lesson the hard way, and I suspect Arke will learn it again, and soon. What I do care about is that you're a talented kid, from Sylcra."
Nel's eyes widened in surprise as she connected the dots. "Grandfather! You can't mean—"
He silenced her with a wave of his hand before turning back to Luke. "In six months' time, there will be a tournament. The greatest cultivators in the world will compete, and I want you to enter on behalf of Sylcra. I had lost hope for the mortal bracket, but I really think that if you participate, we have a good chance of winning. It will take some work, of course, but with my help, and the giants to cut your teeth on, I'll be able to push you to the peak of the Mortal tier just in time. What do you say?"
Yeah, no way I would have guessed that. Luke mulled over his words. A competition, though?
"What kind of tournament is it?"
"The actual events change from year to year, but it's all in sport, and the prizes are to die for. For you and me both," Cyzicus said, stars practically shining in his eyes.
"Prizes?" Luke perked up.
Cyzicus grinned. "Great ones. One time the winner of the Mortal tier received a golden apple from the evening garden. A single bite adds a century to your life span and has enough mana to take you to the peak of the Warrior tier," he boasted, clearly hoping to impress Luke.
That's pretty awesome, but— "It's not a fight to the death or anything, is it? I won't risk my life for greed."
"Win or lose, you'll live. The tournament isn't to the death," the emperor assured him. "A lot of the people competing will be of, shall we say, high pedigree, and the gods don't like their kids fighting to the death for what amounts to scraps."
"Gods?" A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Luke's face. Yeah, fuck this. I'm not getting involved.
"Their children tend to participate, and the prizes have to come from somewhere. I believe this year it is Lord Hephaestus hosting, and he's known for his inventions."
Hephaestus—isn't he the god of building stuff? Luke thought, keeping his face carefully blank.
"Thank you for your confidence, but I—"
"You don't have to worry about offending the deities, if that's what you're worried about. Or their children, for that matter. Most of them don't even know who their parents are—immortals tend to have a lot—but that's beside the point. Look"—he took the crown off his head, dusted it, and put it back on—"think about it. That's all I'm asking. If you say no, then I'll understand. I really do think, though, that you have a lot to gain. We both do," he said meaningfully.
"I— Okay. I'll think about it," Luke said eventually.
The emperor smiled at him. "Good. I have to head back and figure out where that poor excuse for an Olympian went. I don't know what she thinks she's achieving by staying here, but the novelty is wearing thin. You know she's staying in my castle?" He floated in the air as he shook his head and muttered, "Some people," under his breath before vanishing.
"'Bye!" Nel shouted after him.
"So," Luke said, turning to her. "Is that how stuff normally goes with him?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Grandfather has ruled Sylcra for thousands of years, and he cares a lot about it. You should compete."
Luke frowned. "I thought you were against it?"
"I don't know what he saw in you, but if he thinks you have a chance at winning, then I trust him. And he doesn't ask for favors lightly."
"Do you know why he wants me to compete?"
"That … I'm not sure. He must have a reason, though. Even then, the benefit for you isn't small. Just the prizes alone are enough, not to mention how much you would advance under his tutelage. He hasn't taken a disciple in decades, but everyone he has taken has advanced to the Warrior tier."
That sounds great, but I'm not exactly worried about not becoming a Warrior. With the Seed to guide my path, that's basically assured. Not getting killed along the way is a much bigger concern.
"Are you going to participate?" Luke asked her.
A determined look came over her face. "I will. A champion brings great prestige to their home, and I intend to win in my bracket."
"Is that all it is? A pride thing, and some prizes?"
If it's really just a friendly competition, then it might be worth it. Fame would suck, but I can change my face whenever I want. I'm sure there's more to the mask than just three different forms in a variety of colors.
"Elder Agnella! Elder Agnella!" a black-robed cultivator came running up to them. "We've found it!"
Her eyes widened in surprise.
"I have to go. We can talk about the Olympics later!" she said, before taking off into the air, leaving Luke alone with the Outer Disciple.
The Olympics?