Chapter 83: Before the Final Round

Sen 

Record the experience of forcing that portal to hell back open for later. I’d like to study it alongside Mori when we have some time. 

[Already done.]

The feeling had reminded him of Temporalis, the temporal plane. Now that his mana had touched it directly, he might be able to expand on his studies of it in the future. But for now, he turned his attention to his injured allies. 

Ano’s pillow lowered Alari to the ground. She pushed herself off and stood unsteadily on her own feet. The pillow floated to its master, and Ano gratefully grabbed it and used it to cover his nakedness. The pillow turned a bright shade of red in response. 

Ano avoided Alari’s gaze, but she stared at him. “Thank you,” she said. Surprising them all. 

Sen raised a brow at that.

“What?” Ano asked her.

“You fought me. You went all out, just like I wanted.”

Ano frowned. “I thought…I didn’t know it was you, Alari.” His eyes widened. “And your sword,” he said. He brushed the pillow aside and ran to grab shards of Flamesaber. The women in the audience, and a few men, went wild again.

Sen sighed and waved a hand. A robe appeared around Ano’s body. Many members of the audience booed him.

Ano picked up a fragment of the shattered blade and quickly pulled his hand back. “Ow! Well…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised a flaming sword is hot.” 

Alari approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go.” She lifted her other hand, and the shards floated into the air around her. Ano’s pillow shot forward, and she smiled, depositing the shards on top of it. Ano stood, half-stumbling, and Sen was there to catch him in time thanks to Encapsulation. The three of them left the arena together. 

The announcer was already hyping up tomorrow’s match. 

In Alari’s waiting room, Sen cast Total Restoration over both of them. Each of them had made a good show of themselves in their match, and despite her loss, Alari had performed well. He eyed the shards of her sword. “If you’d like, I could probably fix this for you,” Sen offered. 

Alari shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll handle it. I’ve always heard it was better to work on your weapon yourself. Maybe I’ll try to repair it on my own. She’ll be even stronger than before.”

The shards glimmered at her words. 

Ano sighed. “Alari, I’m sorry about how that went. You…you helped me more than you know. I faced something I’d been running from for a long time.”

[Are you going to ask? I’m really curious.]

Sen ignored Tutor. He already felt as though he was intruding on a private moment. 

Alari nodded. “I’m glad.” She seemed distracted. Maybe the match was still on her mind, or maybe it was something else. Sen didn’t think it was his place to ask. 

“Ano, your powers, you’re a lord-class mage, aren’t you?” Sen asked.

Alari shot up at that. “What?” 

The blue-haired man rubbed the back of his head. “Apparently my childhood memory loss extended even to my rank. My status had even changed to go along with the lie I’d convinced myself of. I guess it explains some things. It’s weird…” He flexed his muscles and Sen felt mana pour across the room. “I’d split my power in two this whole time. Not sure where to go from here.”

Alari seemed troubled. “I have a long way to go to catch up then.”

Sen and Ano both looked at her. 

He admired her ambition. “I should go prepare for my match tomorrow. I’ll leave you two to it.” He’d intruded long enough; they probably had things to say. Besides, he really needed to prepare. A lot of important people would be watching tomorrow. If he wanted to make a name for himself, to introduce himself to the world, this was his chance. The first of many. After this duel, he wouldn’t just be the top student of Bright Sail. He’d be the top student in the entire Isle of Magic. 

[If you win, that is.] 

The Flamelord

Later that Day

He found his daughter heading back to the inn he’d booked for her. She walked through an alleyway a short distance away from the arena. She didn’t feel his presence until he jumped down from the roof and landed beside her. He saw fear roar to life in her eyes. She knew why he was here. He had promised after all. 

“Daughter.”

She pressed herself against the wall, swallowing. Her head turned to the side, but she forced herself to stop. Looking for a way out of this would only anger him more, and she knew it. Still, her fate was decided. She’d die in this nameless alleyway and be forgotten by the world. She’d take his shame with her. 

A flame grew in his hands. 

“Father…I’ll do better. I’ll train harder. I can make up for this…I know I can,” she said. 

He sneered at her words. Begging wasn’t becoming of a Kingcrew. Another reason to end her. He slapped his hand forward, aiming at her face. He’d tear her apart with a single blow. 

Movement.

A blade pressed against his neck. His eyes swiveled to see High Professor Laurette. In front of Alari now stood Ano, the blue-haired boy who had defeated her. He held an arm out to cover her. To Alari’s right stood her classmates, Dasai and Marin. They were joined by a heavyset boy with some kind of device in his hand. 

Ano sighed. “Tonka, enough with the bombs already, you’ll get us all killed.” 

Tonka’s shoulders sagged. 

“What is this, Laurette?” the Flamelord asked. 

“You’re threatening a student within Bright Sail. That’s expressly forbidden,” she said. Her blade inched closer to his neck. 

He laughed. “She’s my daughter. My blood belongs to me.”

Ano stepped forward. “She’s a person. She doesn’t belong to anyone.” He turned to look at Alari. “I told you to let me walk you back.” 

The fire in the Flamelord’s hand grew with his anger. It spread, climbing across his body. “Even if you save her now, what will that change? Do you think you can protect her forever? Do you think you can stand guard over her for a lifetime?” he asked. He could rip them all apart in an instant, though Laurette might take some time. The bodies she’d once left in her wake were actually impressive. He’d tried to recruit her more than once until he became more aware of her personality. Namely, behavior such as this.

“If that’s what it takes. Sure. You aren’t the only Lord here,” Ano declared.

A quick scan told him the boy wasn’t lying. That, at least, explained how he’d won the fight over the flesh and blood of a Warlord’s daughter. Still, it wasn’t excusable how much his investment over the years had failed to pay off. A child of his should’ve swept both the Academy Wars and been the main fight of Graduation Duels. She hadn’t even won the fight for second place. Whatever this boy’s attachment to her was, it represented opportunity. 

He grinned. “If you want to protect her, then come work for me. Join my war band.”

Anger flared in Laurette’s eyes. “Not a chance in hell.” 

He took advantage of her distraction. “Burn Distance Flare” 

Laurette disappeared into the flames. He scanned the horizon. It would take her a few minutes to return. “She’s fine,” he said, assuaging the situation so they could finish negotiations quickly. “I’ve only teleported her away.” 

The boy glanced at the spot where his professor had been standing a moment ago, but turned his attention back quickly. “If I do, you’ll leave Alari alone?” he asked.

The Flamelord nodded. He could see the boy weighing his options. Lord or not, there was still a staggering difference in their power and experience. Not to mention the thousands of men and women who served him. Soldiers, mages, assassins. This boy had only a handful of recent graduates as allies. He couldn’t protect Alari on his own, and he knew that. 

There was only one choice here. 

Alari grabbed Ano’s shoulder and shook her head. “Don’t.” 

Ano half-glanced back before resolve set in on his face. “I’ll do it. I’ve got nothing better to do anyway. But let me make one thing clear. You don’t ever threaten her again.”

The Flamelord smiled. Laurette appeared in the alleyway next to him once again. She was ready to fight. He ignored her and spoke. “Very well. Welcome to the family, Ano Kingcrew. Serve me well.” A gentle aura of fire surrounded the boy as their vow was sealed. 

He glanced at Laurette and the horrified expression on her face was one the Flamelord would remember for a long time. 

“What did you just do, Ano?” she asked, defeat in her voice. 

The Flamelord chuckled. The flames on his body dissipated, and he leapt into the air to return to his war band. It seemed the girl was useful after all. Lord-class mages weren’t easy to find. 

Now he’d added another promising recruit to his forces. 

Sen

The Next Day

He stood in the same waiting room Ano had used the day before. The lounge was nice. There was a table with various refreshments, of which Samara was readily partaking in. Chairs, bookshelves, and even some simple mana-board games. Mostly, this was for passing the time. An illusion on the wall projected the current match. Two fourth-years battled it out. He had to admit it was a semi-interesting fight, but he didn’t spare attention on it. His focus was on his friends. 

Milim hadn’t left his side, and despite her knowledge of his true strength, it was obvious she was nervous. Mori and Ilm were watching the fight taking place now. Samara approached with a plate full of food. Her cheeks bulged from the huge bite of pastry she’d taken. “Anyone want some?” she tried to say. 

It came out a garbled mess.

Milim shook her head, then smelled the plate of food and changed her mind. She grabbed a pastry as well. 

Samara nodded in approval. “…really good!” she said with a mouth full of food again. 

The fight came to a standstill, and one of the fourth-years stood triumphantly over the other. His opponent’s body was mangled, but from what Sen saw, they’d both performed well. They’d have good futures after this. Mori and Ilm turned to look at Sen. 

“They’ll call you soon,” Mori said simply.

Sen nodded. He had his artifacts, all of them, and access to his recently fixed temporal world. Malleore hung from his neck, eager to taste battle. But Snake had artifacts of his own, and Sen hadn’t had a chance to see either the low-grade artifacts his opponent had collected all year, nor the high-grade artifact he’d received for the top ten rank reward. Not to mention the sword he’d had on his hip the other day. That was new, and Sen had only managed a simple scan of it, but it was powerful. 

He smiled. The fight should be interesting. The mana light above the door leading out to the arena lit up. That was his signal. 

Samara choked. She grabbed her mouth and forced her food down, then let out a breath. “You’ve got this, boss!” she said.

“Good luck, Master,” Mori said, ignoring Samara’s odd look. 

“Kick his butt!” Ilm beamed. “We’ll be cheering you on from the front row! Girch and Susanna promised to save us seats!” 

He placed a hand on each of their shoulders in turn and nodded at Samara. Then he turned his attention to Milim.

She jumped forward and hugged him tightly. It caught him and everyone else off guard as well. But she was unflinching. She pulled her head back, keeping her arms wrapped around him, and looked up. “Please be careful,” she said softly. 

Sen cleared his throat. He returned the gesture, however briefly, and then nodded. “I’ll win. Don’t worry. I’m going to beat him,” he said. 

The others hurried off, hurrying to reach their seats as soon as possible. 

Sen faced the door to the arena. He looked over his shoulder and saw Milim steal one last glance before the door to the entrance tunnel shut and locked of its own accord. The mana lights in the room glowed, flashing several times, and the exit door opened. He stepped out into a tunnel, and light beckoned him onward. 

It was time to fulfill a promise. Malleore glinted against the sunlight of the arena as Sen emerged. 

Professor Crosp, or no, his title had changed of late. Dean Crosp waited in the center of the arena as Sen and Snake approached from opposite sides. The audience was in a frenzy, screaming and shouting. Some cheered for Snake, though it was hard to believe; others cheered for him. He’d fought under the eyes of thousands before. He’d slain gods and kings and armies in his own time. Sen had felt the hope of so many soldiers and civilians relying on him to secure victory for their continued survival. 

This was just a duel. 

So why was his blood rushing so much? What was the adrenaline doing coursing through his body? 

It hit him in that moment; he was excited. He’d missed this. Snake was a strong opponent. This was a chance for Sen to test himself against someone on a grand stage. He’d fought Remias and Harpis in secluded spaces, winning battles no one would ever know about. But this? The people who watched this duel would remember it for the rest of their lives. This duel was a fulfillment of a promise. The promise to get revenge for Susanna. It was an announcement of his power. This was the start of the reputation that would precede him in this new life. The audience was mixed now, but soon everyone here would acknowledge his strength. 

He would make sure of it.

Snake wore black armor that covered his body but stopped at his shoulders. There were green mana channels built in, and Sen suspected they were meant to channel venom. Up close, the dark green sword was clearly a serious weapon. It was high-grade, and a high tier of it at that. Between the weapon and armor, Sen wondered how Snake had acquired it all. They certainly weren’t from the academy’s artifact collections. 

Dean Crosp looked at each of the boys. “The final graduation duel is intended to be a clash of the most powerful students in the Isle of Magic. After appraising each of you as fighters, the judges have determined that this matchup meets those qualifications. Now, would either of you like to say anything to your opponent or negotiate any terms of the duel?” he asked.

Snake said nothing; he simply glared at Sen. 

Sen looked at Crosp. “I would.”

His voice was amplified throughout the audience. 

Crosp nodded. “Alright, then speak your terms. If Snake agrees, we’ll set them in place.”

Sen stared Snake in the eyes. “I’ll offer you a trade, Snake. I’ll forfeit my right of resurrection. If you can kill me. I’ll stay dead. I’ll be gone forever.”

The audience’s reaction was mixed. Some reacted with shocked silence. Others began fervently discussing such a bold move with their neighbors. 

Snake grinned. “Deal.”

“I haven’t told you what I want yet,” Sen said.

Snake laughed. “Whatever it is, I accept. You can’t beat me, so I get to kill you. I’ll agree to whatever.” 

Sen nodded. Crosp looked concerned, so Sen spoke before he could interject. “Very well. If you win, I die. If I win, we swap places.” 

Snake’s eyes slitted. “What?”

Dean Crosp looked back at the panel of four judges chosen specifically for this fight. High Professor Laurette, the Vice Dean of Fire Kite, the mayor of Brightsail, and Professor Sikar. They were as stunned as he was. 

Sen stared ahead at his opponent. “If I win, your memories will be wiped, and you’ll start over as a first-year at Brightsail Academy. You’ll lose the techniques and artifacts you developed and collected over a lifetime. I’ll have proven myself stronger than the topped ranked student in the country. I’ll have more than earned the right to graduate in your place, as number one.” 

This time, the audience was completely silent at Sen’s proposal.

He smirked. 

I promised I would take everything from you, Snake. And I’m going to.