Evan froze, his breath shallow, his mind screaming for a solution that didn't exist. Then, another voice broke the silence.
"That's enough," said a calm, authoritative voice.
Evan's gaze shifted toward the source of the voice. Theron Vayner stepped into view, his presence commanding the battlefield. He approached with measured steps, his piercing gaze flicking between Evan and Arvid.
Arvid lowered his spear without hesitation, his expression not of frustration or disappointment, but of quiet satisfaction—his stance one of a man who had accomplished his task. The shimmering barrier surrounding him dissolved, the air lightening as moisture returned to the environment.
Theron placed a firm hand on Arvid's shoulder, signaling him to step back. He then turned to Evan, his tone as sharp as his gaze. "That last attack of yours," Theron began, his voice steady and probing, "the floating flame you controlled… It looked unstable. Weak. Was that something you just invented?"
Evan hesitated, his body still trembling from the exhaustion of the fight. He knew Theron had seen through his every move, and lying now would be pointless. "It… wasn't a real spell," Evan admitted, his voice uneven. "I tried to adapt a short-range flame attack for long-distance. I thought I could make it work by focusing on rotation and flow."
Theron arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And yet it failed," he said plainly.
Evan nodded, lowering his gaze. "It didn't matter in the end. Even with the adjustment, it couldn't break through." His frustration seeped into his voice. "Nothing I did made a difference."
Theron studied Evan for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint nod, he spoke, his tone measured. "I wasn't wrong about you."
Evan looked up, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You've proven yourself," Theron said. "More than I expected, in fact. Arvid doesn't show his defensive form lightly. The fact that you not only forced him to reveal it but also found a way to breach its weak points—despite not causing damage—places you above the average intermediate apprentice."
Evan blinked, caught off guard by the acknowledgment. "I still couldn't defeat him," he admitted, frustration lacing his voice.
"Defeat isn't the only measure of worth," Theron replied sharply. "You've shown ingenuity, resilience, and the ability to adapt under pressure. That's why I'm offering you a place in The Gilded Shade."
Evan's heart skipped a beat. The Gilded Shade—Theron's group, one of the most elite and elusive factions within the Arcane Camp. "I… I'll need to think about it," Evan said cautiously.
Theron's gaze sharpened, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "You don't have much time to think," he said. "If it weren't necessary to accelerate things, I wouldn't have made you fight Arvid today. But circumstances demand it."
Evan frowned. "Why me? Why now? Is this some kind of threat?"
Theron's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "A threat? No, it's more like pity," he said bluntly. "In this camp, only groups can take on missions beyond the Arcane Field. I intend to send you far away from here as quickly as possible."
The weight of his words settled heavily on Evan. "Why are you so eager to send me away?"
Theron's gaze darkened slightly, his tone lowering but retaining its firmness. "You're not naive, Evan," he said. "The Archon was here yesterday. You must suspect by now that the camp isn't safe. It's going to descend into chaos sooner rather than later. You need to be far away before that happens."
Evan frowned, the weight of the statement settling heavily on him. "Why me?" he asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "Why are you so set on sending me away?"
Theron's lips curved into a faint smile as he posed his own question in return. "Why do you think you lost to Arvid?"
Evan blinked, caught off guard. "Because… because his core is too strong. It makes him almost immortal," he said, recalling the unbreakable barrier, the regenerating husks, the endless spears.
At that, Theron and Arvid both chuckled, a sound that felt more like a critique than amusement. Theron's eyes locked onto Evan, his expression tinged with both amusement and authority. "That's where you're wrong. His core isn't strong. It's his use of it that makes him formidable."
Evan's confusion deepened. "What do you mean?"
Theron's tone turned sharp, cutting through the haze of Evan's uncertainty. "You lost because you didn't understand his power. You assumed incorrectly—just like most apprentices do. That's why Arvid is capable of holding his own against advanced apprentices. It's not about the core itself, but how it's wielded."
Arvid nodded slightly, his expression calm yet firm. "Don't feel bad for losing to me. Most do," he added matter-of-factly.
Evan's thoughts churned. If Arvid's core wasn't inherently strong, how had he been so overwhelmingly dominant? His silence betrayed his confusion, and Theron seized the opportunity to elaborate.
"Nuclei with elemental focuses are powerful," Theron began. "Fire, water, wind—they're devastating in their raw form. But the truth is, most apprentices and mages rely on the obvious. They follow the direct path their core offers, never straying beyond what's easy."
Theron's voice softened, his gaze narrowing as he leaned slightly toward Evan. "But those who don't do the obvious? Those are the ones with real potential. And you, with your fireball and smoke—adapting it mid-battle to create a herbicide to weaken your opponent's constructs, modifying a close-range spell for long-distance use to exploit a perceived weakness—you don't do the obvious."
Evan's heart pounded as the weight of Theron's words sank in.
"That's why I'm offering you a place in The Gilded Shade," Theron continued. "My group is focused on people like you—those who refuse to follow the easy path, who push their magic into uncharted territory. People like you are rare in this camp. Don't waste your potential. Don't waste your life here."
Theron straightened, his tone turning decisive. "This camp isn't going to protect you. But The Gilded Shade will. If you want to live long enough to reach your true potential, you'll join us."
Evan's mind raced. As much as the prospect of safety and growth tempted him, his thoughts immediately turned to Cedric. If things were as dire as Theron implied, leaving Cedric behind felt like a betrayal. He clenched his fists, his voice firm as he spoke.
"I'll join… if I can take Cedric with me."
Theron's gaze sharpened, his lips curling into a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "If Cedric had the strength of an intermediate, I might consider it," he said, his tone cold but matter-of-fact. "But he doesn't. You, on the other hand, have already proven yourself worthy."
Evan frowned, his frustration growing, but he held his tongue. Theron didn't wait for a response. Turning, he gestured for Arvid to follow. "Think quickly, Evan. Time isn't on your side."
As they walked back toward the camp, Evan's thoughts churned with unease. He glanced at Arvid, who walked beside him in silence, his calm demeanor an enigma. Finally, Evan broke the quiet.
"Why do advanced apprentices form these groups?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. "What's the gain? At least here, in the Arcane Field."
Arvid smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "In the Arcane Field?" he repeated, his tone almost mocking. "The Field is temporary, Evan. It's not the endgame."
Evan raised an eyebrow. "Temporary? Then what's the point of all of this?"
Arvid let out a low chuckle. "Merits," he said simply. "Golden Merits. The more a group accumulates, the better the chances their leader has of being admitted."
Evan frowned, the term unfamiliar. "Admitted? To what?"
Arvid's smirk widened, but he didn't answer directly. "That's far off for someone like you," he said dismissively. "Just focus on getting stronger. That's what you should worry about right now."
Evan fell silent, mulling over Arvid's words. Admitted? Golden Merits? It was clear that there was more to the Arcane Field than he understood. The leaders of groups seemed to gain something significant by recruiting apprentices with potential, and it was enough to drive Theron to break the rules to bring him in.
But what unsettled Evan even more was the looming crisis Theron had hinted at. If the camp was truly on the brink of chaos, Cedric wouldn't stand a chance on his own. The thought gnawed at Evan, leaving him with a growing sense of urgency.
"What can I do to bring him with me?" Evan murmured to himself.
He knew he couldn't confront Theron directly—not yet. But if there was any way to make Cedric strong enough to qualify, he would find it. For now, the path ahead was uncertain, and Evan felt the weight of the choices he would soon have to make.