In the Sunridge Region, far from the bustling central city of Arlcliff in the Verdant Region, the sun cast its gentle light upon the world below, while a cool breeze whispered through the trees. Amidst the rolling hills that dotted the landscape, where dense forests stretched as far as the eye could see, one hill stood out. It was taller than the rest, crowned with a winding stone stairway that disappeared into the canopy of leaves.
At the summit, nestled amidst carefully tended flora, stood a temple of foreign design, something one wouldn't expect in a fantastical world. Unlike the winds that buffeted the surrounding hills, here atop this particular hill, there was nothing but tranquility. From the peak to base, not a single thing stirred the air, and the temperature remained pleasantly still.
In the very center of the temple, beneath a wide, branching tree that covered most of the courtyard, an older man sat cross-legged at the tree's base. His posture was serene, and his presence could only be described as calming. As he slowly opened his eyes, though they were unmistakably human, his eyes seemed to hold the reflection of the entire universe within them, shimmering with an ethereal light.
"Hmm." His voice was a soft murmur, yet it seemed to ripple across the entirety of the temple grounds.
"It seems once again that the foundations of the universe have shifted," he said, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue.
"A new nomological law has forced its way into being, with no sense of balance or reason," he continued, his gaze wandering upward toward the great blue sky visible through the sporadic leaves of the tree he sat under.
"Yet even with my insights, the source of these changes eludes me. These threads that have warped the shape of our reality are hidden and woven by..." The man's words trailed off, his expression growing more introspective. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he shook his head slowly as if disagreeing with the very thoughts that had formed in his mind.
"I suppose," he said, his voice tinged with a quiet resignation, "I am simply not ready yet. The path remains shrouded, and my understanding is incomplete."
With that final statement, the older man closed his eyes once again, falling back into a state of meditation.
•
After finishing his match, Magnus, still disguised as Cain, made his way to the seating area where Luden's Faction had gathered. As he walked through the audience, he could hear countless whispers and felt the eyes of many spectators on him. At this point, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Cain was as strong as the rumors suggested.
In fact, the idea that he was merely an Apprentice-level mage capable of defeating two Apprentice-level knights at once now seemed laughable. It was clear his abilities far surpassed that level, and he could hold his own against opponents beyond the Apprentice level, whether they were knights or mages.
Ignoring the reactions of those around him, Magnus arrived at the seating area reserved by Luden's Faction. To his surprise, only Syrna was there. Although she didn't seem too heavily injured, she was covered in bruises, and her clothes, which had been neat and clean before her match, were now torn and ripped in several places. Scanning the crowd of students, Magnus quickly spotted Zilen, who had been Syrna's opponent. Unlike her, he looked exactly the same as when he entered the Alternate Space. His hair was neatly kept, and his clothes were unscathed, a stark contrast to Syrna's battered appearance, which honestly surprised Magnus.
Syrna wasn't the strongest member of Luden's Faction, but she was far from weak. If she faced an average Apprentice-level knight from Takerth Academy, who were considered already among the best, she would almost certainly win. So, for Zilen to not only defeat her but to do so in such a one-sided manner piqued Magnus's interest in just how exactly Zilen had fought during their match.
It's a shame there's no way to look back on previous matches, through replays or something.
Lamenting that, Magnus walked toward Syrna and said, "It seems your match didn't go all that well."
Hearing the all-too-familiar monotone voice effect from the various runes engraved into Magnus's mask, Syrna turned to face him. She looked physically beaten compared to when she entered the Alternate Space, but her expression didn't share that trait. Instead of looking defeated, she seemed lost in thought, like her mind was drifting.
"Hmm, well, I guess you could say that," Syrna responded, letting out a short sigh as Magnus took his seat and glanced at her.
"What happened?" he asked plainly. His Cain persona wasn't one to tiptoe around subjects and questions. Syrna bit her lip slightly, trying to find the right words.
"If I'm being completely honest... I don't know," she admitted in a low voice, clearly replaying scenes from her match in her mind. Her answer caused Magnus to raise a brow.
"What do you mean?" he probed, as Syrna simply shook her head.
"No matter what I did, how fast I moved, or what tactics I tried to use, I just couldn't hit him. I'm damn serious," Syrna said, looking at Magnus.
"I've fought people stronger and faster than me before, but this... this was different. I never experienced anything like it. There was such a lack of... anything while I was fighting him; it was almost like I was fighting the air. In the end, my match was one of the first to finish, and even now, I still don't understand how I lost." Syrna wasn't the type to get sad or depressed about losing; she could bounce back from a loss. She had proven that when she and her brother first fought Magnus. Even though she knew how strong he was now and had no illusions about beating him, she still wanted that rematch just as badly.
From her perspective, it was just a matter of seeing where she had failed before and improving for the next time. After all, the best way to learn is through trial and error. But in this situation, there was nothing for her to examine because she simply didn't understand how the match ended or what she could have changed about how she fought. Her mind was dominated by sheer confusion.
Actually, now that I think about it, even in the information Luden gave us, there was nothing on Zilen's abilities. There was a bit about his family, faction, and personality, but zero information on how he fights. If even Luden couldn't gather information about this guy, despite him being a faction leader and someone we may need to go up against, then he's essentially a giant question mark. That's pretty dangerous.
"Anyway, enough about that. I have to admit, I'm a bit surprised your opponent lasted as long as they did," Syrna remarked, shifting the conversation.
"He was strong," Magnus replied honestly. Even if Reimun had relied heavily on different weapons and tools, that was just his fighting style, and it worked. Out of everyone Magnus had faced in the Live Examination, Reimun had come the closest to beating him, which was impressive. And that was despite the fact that many of Reimun's main fighting methods had been limited and rendered useless against Magnus thanks to his [High-Speed Regeneration]. Put him in a similar setting or environment with practically anyone else, and the result would likely change dramatically.
"You know, I never noticed this before, but you're pretty modest. Well, at least for someone everyone calls a monster," Syrna noted, patting Magnus on the back and grinning. After the first pat on the back knocked him forward and knocked the wind out of him, Magnus quickly used [Self Body Puppetry] to counter Syrna's strength.
Ow... Did her seeing me do all that lifting make her forget my body is just like a normal person's outside of fights? Well... if you exclude my skeleton.
"Anyway, even though I'm out of the race now, we still have more wins than losses so far, which is good." Syrna's words caused Magnus to remember something he had wanted to ask earlier.
"Where is Seraline?" He inquired. Syrna's loss had distracted him, but he had been wondering why Syrna was sitting alone in their faction's seating area when Seraline should be there as well.
"Ah? Oh, right, you weren't here. You should've seen it! She used Weapon Unity; can you believe that? Weapon Unity as a student! She's recovering now, but she should be fine since she didn't use it for too long. Honestly, I never thought I'd witness someone using Weapon Unity for the first time here at the Live Examination, especially from someone in our faction," Syrna explained with excitement practically buzzing from her. As she was speaking, Magnus searched his mind but couldn't find much information about Weapon Unity beyond the basic concept, even after all the books he'd read.
Still, he could definitely believe that there would be a fairly serious toll for fusing a weapon into one's own existence.
"In any case, she was pretty awesome considering what she was up against. Though I'm a bit worried about my brother's match..." Syrna admitted, looking up at the nearest of the four screens. Magnus did the same, focusing on the match between Tascen and Sylas.
The moment his gaze landed upon one of the seemingly blank screens, they changed showing him a different perspective, and so did what Magnus heard. Suddenly, without any warning, he felt himself assaulted by a loud noise. No, he recognized it now; it wasn't just noise—it was music. It was different from the music that played when he fought Reimun. While that music had been so loud it could block out other sounds, this time it sounded distant.
It was as if a melody were echoing across a wide canyon. Not only that, but it was an entirely different style of music. If the music during his fight with Reimun had been slow and calm with stringed instruments and rapid highs and lows, this music had a high-energy flow with the beating of drums, the kind of music you'd expect to hear on a battlefield.
Ok, so it looks like the music wasn't just a one-time thing. And it seems like I don't have to be the one involved in a battle for the music to start either, as long as I'm observing it.
Taking a look around, Magnus noticed that no one else seemed to react to the music. Even those sitting at the top of the Academy Arena with the Headmistress, like Eveline, didn't seem to notice anything odd. He was, for some reason, the only person in Takerth Academy, or perhaps even the world, who could hear it. This raised the repetitive question of why.
There has to be a reason...
As Magnus continued to ponder, within the Alternate Space where Tascen and Sylas's battle was taking place, the environment seemed to perfectly match the darker tones of the music. Leaping into the sky, the blurred shadows of two figures clashed repeatedly. With each clash, a sea of sparks joined the ashes of the scorched ground below, and the sound of metal clashing echoed across the desolate battlefield.
As the two figures clashed once again, they quickly landed on the ground a couple of meters apart. These figures were, of course, Tascen and Sylas.
In this war-torn environment, neither of them looked the same as they did when they first entered. Their bodies, clothing, and even the weapons they held tightly in their grips looked worn and tattered. Heavily panting, Sylas stared at Tascen with a determined look in his eyes. One of his arms was hanging lower than the other, and half of his uniform had been destroyed, revealing a mess of torn skin and blood.
He had received this injury early in their match from a mine he hadn't noticed. Although he managed to avoid a fatal injury thanks to his aura and quick reaction time, he still took a mana blast practically head-on, being near its epicenter. As a result, one of his arms was heavily injured, with the rest of his body suffering from the blast damage.
On the other side, Tascen was in better shape than Sylas. He hadn't taken any heavy blows directly, using Sylas as a cautionary example to watch his step. But as they continued to fight, slowly a clear and obvious difference had emerged between them: knowledge. Simply put, Sylas knew more about warfare and the types of magical artifices mages use during battle than Tascen.
This difference stemmed from their upbringing. While Tascen's family had given him a noble education which was still leagues above what normal people got, their main focus was on honing his abilities as a knight before he entered Takerth Academy. In contrast, Sylas and his sister were taught extensively in practically every academic field, before being taught as knights, which of course included history, military tactics, and magical artifices, leading to the current disparity.
Although Sylas was more injured, Tascen was certainly more exhausted.
It was the difference between someone who knew how to react properly to various military artifacts being deployed and used on a battlefield and someone who didn't. While Tascen remained on the offensive throughout their match, pushing himself when he should have conserved energy and trying to end things quickly, Sylas stayed defensive. He constantly retreated, carefully observing any changes or signs on the battlefield, fully using the environment to his advantage.
In the end, this led to a stalemate between them.
Dammit, I still can't get an edge on him, even though his arm is injured.
Tascen thought to himself, clicking his tongue and glaring at Sylas. He had already lost his stamina advantage, which wasn't something he could regain. At the same time, he knew Sylas was trying to wear him down with constant defensive play and retreating, so he needed to end the fight quickly to avoid the match turning into any more of a war of attrition.
The only way this is going to end in my victory is if I push him into a corner, so he has no choice but to face me directly. But this battlefield is too open for something like that. Which means I'll have to create that corner myself. But the question is how...
That question ran through Tascen's mind as a familiar sound repeatedly echoed through the air like thunder, one after another. Even in this desolate wasteland, charred and devoid of any life, it would occasionally rain, and it would rain fire.