Chapter 13 - A Skill Of Legends

Garrik raised an eyebrow as he noticed the faint glow emanating from Fredrick's broom. "Mana infusion? On a broom? What kind of nonsense is this?"

Fredrick didn't answer, his stance tightening, his broom held like a sword. The aura around him shifted, a subtle ripple of energy that was unnerving in its quiet confidence. Kieran stood at the sidelines, arms crossed, whispering under his breath, "Don't get cocky, Fredrick. Just stay focused."

With a roar, Garrik charged, his greatsword swinging in a wide arc meant to cleave Fredrick in half. But Fredrick waited, the tension in his body coiling tighter, and just as the blade was about to strike, he vanished in a blur of motion. Garrik's greatsword met nothing but empty air, crashing into the dirt with a dull thud.

"What—?" Garrik spun around, just in time to catch a flash of movement as Fredrick reappeared behind him. The broom struck the back of Garrik's armor, the force staggering him and nearly making him lose his balance.

Garrik growled, turning on Fredrick with a sharp swing. But again, Fredrick disappeared, the faint blur of his motion leaving an afterimage in the air. The gathered mercenaries exchanged startled glances.

"Did you see that?" one of them murmured. "He's moving faster than the eye can follow."

"That's not possible," another said. "Not without..."

Fredrick continued his relentless assault, appearing and disappearing like a phantom. Each strike of the broom hit its mark, forcing Garrik on the defensive. The seasoned mercenary gritted his teeth, his experience barely keeping him in the fight. He swung wildly, trying to anticipate Fredrick's movements, but the younger fighter was always one step ahead.

Finally, Garrik managed to block a strike, their weapons clashing with a resounding crack. He locked eyes with Fredrick, his frustration evident. "What kind of trickery is this? No one moves that fast."

"It's not trickery," Fredrick said, his voice steady and calm. "It's skill. Courtesy of my master."

+

Meliora, watching intently from the sidelines, spoke softly. "Flash Steps... Master, you've given him a Rank I skill. I had my suspicions but, a Rank I skill.. ."

Kieran blinked. "Rank what?"

"Skills in this world are categorized based on their rarity and power," she explained, her voice low so only Kieran could hear. "They go from Rank X—the most common and basic skills—up to Rank I. Beyond that are Demi-God skills, which are said to bend the laws of nature, and Godly skills, the kind of powers wielded by legends."

Kieran's eyebrows shot up. "And Flash Steps?"

"It's a Rank I skill," Meliora confirmed. "Rare enough that most people believe it to be a myth. For Fredrick to wield it..."

Kieran groaned, rubbing his temples. "Of course. Why wouldn't I accidentally give him something that's practically legendary?"

Back in the clearing, Garrik was visibly shaken. He swung his greatsword in wide arcs, trying to anticipate Fredrick's movements, but it was no use. Fredrick danced around him, his strikes precise and relentless.

Finally, Fredrick planted himself a few feet away, his broom glowing brightly. He took a deep breath, his stance shifting into a Power Pose. Garrik hesitated, clearly unnerved by the display.

"Enough!" Garrik barked, lowering his weapon. He glared at Fredrick, his chest heaving. "You've made your point, boy."

Fredrick relaxed, lowering his broom. "Then maybe you'll think twice before mocking my Master."

+

The crowd dispersed, murmurs of awe and confusion hanging in the air. Garrik rubbed his shoulder, wincing as he approached Kieran. "Your kid's got moves. I'll give him that. But where the hell did he learn something like Flash Steps?"

Kieran met Garrik's gaze, his expression unreadable. "Let's just say it's not something you'll find in a guild handbook."

Garrik's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "You're hiding something, Sage. Skills like that don't just show up out of nowhere."

"Maybe," Kieran said with a shrug. "Or maybe you're just not as well-read as you think."

For a moment, Garrik looked like he might press the issue, but he eventually huffed and turned away. "Whatever. Just keep that kid in line. The last thing we need is his flashy tricks attracting the wrong kind of attention."

As Garrik strode off, Fredrick returned, his face flushed with a mix of excitement and exhaustion. "Master, did you see that? It worked—I mean, really worked!"

Kieran pulled Fredrick and Meliora aside. His expression was serious, a stark contrast to his usual easygoing demeanor.

"Listen," he said quietly. "What happened out there stays between us. No one outside this camp hears about Flash Steps or what it might be."

Fredrick frowned. "But Master, if it's that powerful—"

"That's exactly why we keep it quiet," Kieran interrupted. "If people think you're walking around with a skill that breaks the rules, they'll come after you. Nobles, guilds, maybe even gods. Do you want that kind of attention?"

Fredrick hesitated before shaking his head. "No, Master."

Meliora nodded. "He's right. Power like this isn't just an advantage—it's a target."

Kieran sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Good. Now let's figure out what we're going to do about the Baron and his mess. One thing's clear: this situation just got a whole lot more complicated."

And as they looked out over the camp, each of them silently wondered how much deeper the rabbit hole would go.