Riven snapped out of his mind space, his thoughts still swirling in turmoil. He glanced around, disoriented, until his gaze settled on the healer. She remained hard at work, her palms outstretched, emitting a pulsing green glow. The light was faint, but its warmth crept through his body, spreading like the first rays of dawn. Slowly, a tingling sensation began to crawl through his fingers, then radiated outward. Minutes passed before he managed to move his mouth, his parched lips forming a faint smile.
"I'm alright," he croaked, his voice hoarse and strained. "Just some minor nerve damage."
His words made the healer frown, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't chastise him, though. Her focus remained fixed on her work, the furrow in her brow deepening with concentration.
"Shh, rest," his father interjected, tightening his grip on Riven's shoulders. The weight of that hand was grounding, a tether holding him steady.
Riven gave a weary mental nod, letting the tension drain from his body. His thoughts, however, refused to settle. Should I tell them what happened? Do I even understand it myself? The questions followed him into the uneasy embrace of sleep.
The peace was short-lived. Riven jolted awake, light stabbing through his half-closed eyelids. He groaned, raising a hand to shield his face, but the motion froze midway. His fingers caught his attention, and he stared at them, flexing each digit with cautious wonder. Would you look at that—I'm healed.
He brought his hands together, wiggling his fingers experimentally before a sharp voice interrupted his awe.
"Stop that," the healer said, exhaling in exasperation. "When will you stop doubting my abilities?" She huffed, though her stern expression softened slightly. "Though, I'll admit, I wasn't entirely sure it would work this time."
Riven chuckled weakly and tried to stand, but his legs prickled with that unpleasant sensation of blood returning to asleep limbs. Annoyed, he forced his mana to flood the area, stimulating his circulation until the numbness subsided.
With a thought, he pushed himself to his feet, the motion so effortless it startled him. He realized he had leapt nearly two meters from a seated position. Brows furrowing, he scanned his body, sensing the steady flow of amber mana coursing through him. It maintained a consistent presence, using up ten percent of its total concentration. Odd. I didn't command it to do this.
He tried to will the mana back to its core, but it resisted, drifting through his body as if it belonged there. He attempted again, and again it defied him. Before he could delve further into the puzzle, a sharp cough snapped his attention back to the present. The knight and his father approached, their expressions somber.
"Apologies, young Stormbrand," the knight began, his tone heavy with regret. "It seems the collars of all the greater beasts were tampered with. You have my deepest apologies."
Before Riven could respond, his father's anger erupted.
"A simple mistake?" he spat, his voice low but laced with venom. "That's all you have to say for nearly killing my son?"
As if on cue, Corvax padded forward and growled low, its hackles rising as it glared at the knight. The knight smirked, placing a hand on his chest plate. A brilliant flash of light erupted, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. When the glow faded, a majestic creature stood by the knight's side—a horse-like beast with two sets of angelic wings. The tips of the wings were adorned with golden armor, which extended to its head, forming antlers of gleaming metal.
The two beasts locked eyes, tension crackling in the air like an oncoming storm.
"Enough." A new voice cut through the standoff, calm but commanding. The hunter stepped forward, his gaze shifting between the knight and Riven's father. "Riven probably wasn't the target. Whoever tampered with the collars aimed to create chaos, likely to mask their true intentions. If I had to guess, they were probably after Silvia."
The hunter's words carried weight, and his eyes met Riven's father's in a silent exchange. Reluctantly, his father stepped back, his fury simmering but contained.
"Riven," the knight said, his tone steady but firm, "the creature is defeated. Go and form the bond."
Riven hesitated but nodded. He wasn't about to let this day be ruined by conspiracies or mishaps. Ignoring the murmured protests behind him, he strode forward, each step carrying him farther than expected. His strides felt unnaturally long, his enhanced body responding with uncanny precision.
The fallen beast loomed before him, its massive frame motionless yet imposing. Riven steeled himself, recalling the teachings of his instructors. This was a rite he had prepared for, no matter the circumstances. He raised his right hand and placed it on the creature's head, its fur cool and coarse under his palm.
Drawing a deep breath, Riven began channeling his mana. He wove it with intent, crafting the intricate patterns needed to reach the beast's soul space. The moment his mana touched the creature's core, his hand lit up with a radiant glow. The light pulsed in rhythm, growing in intensity. Just as it reached a crescendo, it vanished abruptly, leaving Riven bewildered.
Did the bond form? I don't feel anything.
Frowning, he tried again, this time using the amber mana. It flowed with power but refused to act as a medium for the bond. Frustration gnawed at him as he searched for a solution, only to hear approaching footsteps. The knight, hunter, and his father stood nearby, their faces mirroring his confusion.
"Even if your soul sustained damage, you should've at least managed to form the bond," the hunter mused, kneeling beside him. "This is... peculiar."
His father, however, was far less composed. "Old man!" he barked. "Get over here. Now."
The elderly representative from the Beast Association appeared almost instantly, his expression unreadable. "Show me your hand, child," he said, extending his own.
Defeated, Riven complied, lifting his hand. The old man clasped it between his own, a tendril of mana snaking into Riven's body. As it reached his core, the amber mana reacted violently. It surged forth, consuming the foreign mana with feral intensity.
The old man recoiled, releasing Riven's hand as if burned. His face was a mask of shock, the creases deepening. "What in the world…?"
"What happened?" the knight demanded, stepping closer.
The old man shook his head, his voice trembling. "I can't access his mana space. Something is blocking me."
The adults launched into a heated debate, their words blending into white noise as Riven retreated into his thoughts. Why can't I form a bond? Could it be because of the bond I already have?
He closed his eyes, diving back into his mind space. The mysterious ball of energy floated near his cores, its surface shimmering with faint patterns. Riven studied it closely, probing its structure. By the end, he confirmed his suspicions—it was a bond. But with what?
When he reopened his eyes, the conversation had reached a new turn.
"I can summon the Grandmaster," the old man offered. "But the earliest he can arrive is tomorrow."
"That's fine," his father replied, glancing at Riven. "He can rest until then."
Riven doubted the Grandmaster could solve his dilemma, but the prospect of meeting such a legendary figure sparked a flicker of excitement. Maybe I'll even see one of the Sovereign Bloodline beasts.
His spirits lifted slightly as he joined his family, walking with them toward the arena's exit. Behind him, the knight ushered the remaining contestants forward to complete their ceremonies.