Chapter 12

“A ranged attack?”

Late the next evening, Ilyshn’ish and Master Tian sat facing one another in the main hall of the Justice Dragon Dojo. A light breeze flowed through the open doors of the building, sending the cheap paper wall hangings swaying back and forth. The old Human had added a half-dozen more of the things to his collection. Ilyshn’ish still could not figure out why he chose items of such negligible value to adorn his establishment.

“Yes, Master Tian,” she nodded. “I’ve been making some progress through the Adventurer Guild’s ranks, and my lack of ranged options has been made annoyingly clear during their trials.”

Though she was mindful of the time – Tsuare tended to appear around midnight – she felt the need to ask while she had the chance.

“Would it not be easier to close distance and strike decisively?”

“I agree,” Ilyshn’ish nodded, “but the parties that I’ve participated in appear to have certain…expectations for Bards. Namely, they want me to stand back at a safe distance and provide support with Spellsongs. I worry over whether I can establish my value by being so passive, so I’d at least like to have the option to conduct attacks without doing something that would draw the ire of my party.”

“I see,” the old Human stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I’m not very familiar with the capabilities of the local Adventurers. How strong are these parties?”

“The last was Silver, Master Tian,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “I have a Gold-rank trial in the morning, so I was wondering if there was anything you could think of that might help.”

The gloved hand on the beard stopped, and a furrow appeared over the old Human’s brow.

“Silver…and Gold? If I recall correctly…is there any reason why you cannot make your strength clear to the other party members?”

“It would defeat the purpose of the trial,” Ilyshn’ish told him. “They are but a formality for me, but they are meant to be a series of challenges for the rest of the party. Human lore has many examples of Bards that use bows – some even double as instruments – but that’s clearly not for me. I’d just like something that allows me to directly influence the course of a fight should it be required.”

“Hoh…” A gleam of approval entered Master Tian’s eye, “To think that you’ve assumed the role of a benevolent protector. You’ve come a long way from the person I met months ago.”

“I-I wouldn’t exactly call myself that,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “I’ve only gotten the guild out of trouble once. Or twice…?”

Had she actually become what Master Tian described? She helped the Adventurers out with the Frost Giants twice. Now she followed their whelps around and kept them healthy from a distance. She was even looking for ways to intervene in their fights…

“Anyway,” Ilyshn’ish continued, “it’ll be good to have for the future. I can’t use my breath weapon as a Human and it would kill everyone in the way even if I could. Something I can perform at a moment’s notice would be nice.”

Master Tian reached into his vest, pulling out a copper coin. Holding it between the knuckle of his forefinger and his thumb, he flicked it past Ilyshn’ish’s shoulder. A hollow tak sounded from behind her.

“Something like that?” Master Tian asked.

Ilyshn’ish rose and went to examine the pillar where the coin had buried itself.

“H-Human hands can do this?”

“If it’s too foreign of a movement, you could always throw rocks.”

This was something she had briefly considered, but a recent experience convinced her that it was probably a bad idea.

“The last time I sent a rock flying somewhere,” Ilyshn’ish told him, “I almost crushed an entire party of Adventurers. Shouldn’t there be something with more control? I’ve heard tales of Humans able to use Martial Arts that deliver long-distance strikes with melee attacks.”

“Such as, hmm…what did he call it again? Void Cutter?”

“I haven’t any idea what that is.”

“A man that I happened to come across in Re-Estize over a year ago possessed an attack he was quite confident in. I think it was a strike that was supposed to have the appearance of cutting down his opponents at a distance.”

Ilyshn’ish returned to seat herself before Master Tian again, eyes sparkling.

“That sounds promising – let’s try that.”

“Unfortunately, it was little more than a trick performed through the use of a specialized weapon.”

“Oh.”

Her shoulders slouched. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

“Yes,” Master Tian shook his head gravely, “I was somewhat disappointed as well. To think that I delayed the execution of my orders by several seconds because of that.”

“So there’s nothing?”

“On the contrary,” Master Tian offered her a tight smile, “there are more than a few possibilities for unarmed combat. I’ve just not seen anyone use them in my time here.”

Master Tian rose to his feet, gesturing for Ilyshn’ish to follow. He led her out to the backyard of the dojo.

“Let’s see…please stand those logs of firewood in a row along the wall.”

Ilyshn’ish did as Master Tian bid, lining up three thick pine logs, then scurried back to join him.

“Controlling my strength for this will be a bit difficult, but I believe I can manage…”

Master Tian fell into a combat-ready stance, a look of concentration on his face. With a short grunt, his arm came around in a swift chopping motion. Fifty metres away, one of the logs was split cleanly in two.

His other hand swept across horizontally, fingers splayed as he made a raking motion. Another log was divided into six horizontal sections. Finally, he struck out with his right palm. The last log disintegrated into a pile of sawdust.

Master Tian straightened from his stance and walked over with his hands clasped behind his back.

“As expected,” he shook his head, “refining power to such minute levels is more difficult than it seems. I only meant to knock that last one into the wall.”

A gust of wind blew away the remains of the log before Ilyshn’ish collected her wits again.

“I-I’ll take it!” She ran forward to join him, “Teach me how to do that please, Master Tian!”

“Truly? Well, hmm…come to think of it, do you have any combat Skills? I don’t think I’ve witnessed you using any since we became acquainted. Then again, they are often performed silently by the locals.”

“Skills?” Ilyshn’ish frowned, “I have Spellsong…”

“Spellsong is indeed a type of skill,” Master Tian told her, “but I was referring to those associated with your capacity as an unarmed combatant. I believe you’ve witnessed some of our more promising disciples use a variety of rudimentary techniques today.”

They hadn’t grown much stronger since she last saw them, but Ilyshn’ish supposed that a few had used more powerful attacks. Their actions gave little hint as to what they did to achieve them, however. It was all a bunch of scary yelling and swinging to her.

“I don’t think I have anything similar,” Ilyshn’ish admitted. “I don’t do much beyond practising what I’ve learned from you. Is there some secret to it?”

“It is a matter of Ki manipulation.”

“K-Ki?”

“You were away when I deemed the leading disciples sufficiently advanced to begin that aspect of their training,” Master Tian told her. “All beings have pools of inner energy – Ki – and Monks may draw from it to enhance their bodies, manipulate the Ki of others, and even project power outwards if they have achieved a certain level of mastery. The locals most commonly see it in the form of self-enhancement that imbues both their natural offence and defence with the equivalent strength of enchanted alloys.”

“But I’m a Dragon,” Ilyshn’ish said. “My natural weapons and armour become stronger with age, so that’s not necessary. Even now, I can probably tear mithril apart with relatively little difficulty.”

“So you haven’t employed anything actively with your attacks aside from Spellsong?”

Ilyshn’ish shook her head.

“Not in the way you mean, no.”

“Then I believe we are at an impasse of sorts,” Master Tian told her. “As a Monk, I can train you in the fundamentals of unarmed combat that would overlap with a Dancer Class. If we pursue the harnessing of Ki, however, you will almost certainly end up with Monk levels. I believe you are set on your course as a Bard?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Then, forgive me for sounding unreliable, but the answers you seek may rest with those who have developed Skills and Abilities that do not utilize Ki. Perhaps there are other Bards with whom you might be able to confer with.”

The way that the other Adventurers treated her, she didn’t think that she would have any luck with other Bards. Perhaps it was something they pursued then they were considered durable enough to survive front-line combat, but the only ones that might be strong enough for that were all in Feoh Teiwaz.

“How about Martial Arts?” She asked.

“As far as my studies on the topic have shown me,” Master Tian answered, “Martial Arts are restricted to classes that fall within the broad ‘warrior’ archetype. Monks are also considered a sort of warrior, but we have a system unique to us. Hmm…you may be on to something…”

“I am?”

“Yes. It may not have anything specifically to do with Martial Arts, but every Job Class specialized for physical combat has a ‘kit’, so to speak. You are familiar with Monks, so let’s take another Job Class – Paladins, for instance.”

“I don’t know any Paladins,” Ilyshn’ish said. “I don’t think there are any Paladins at all in the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

Master Tian appeared to pause in thought, his hand coming up to stroke his beard again.

“I believe you are correct,” he said. “How strange. There are many temples and shrines in the territory, and Paladins are a perfectly respectable Job Class…”

“Are they?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “Human lore makes them sound insufferable.”

“Since there are none here,” Master Tian answered, “I have no way to investigate the truth of the matter. There should be no practical issues with the Job Class itself – the strongest man I know of happens to be a Paladin.”

Ilyshn’ish considered asking whether this ‘strongest man’ was even stronger than the Sorcerer King. She kept her question to herself, however – it was possible that she would be punished for even suggesting such a thing.

“Paladins,” Master Tian told her, “on the most fundamental of levels, are built around defence and sustainability. They employ a combination of Skills, Spells and Abilities to form their own distinct ‘flavour’. All Job Classes are like this. As a Dancer – a Draconic Dancer, for that matter – your flavour is distinct. This being the case, it stands to reason that there is also a system that supports your unique style of combat.”

Ilyshn’ish became lost in the mire of Master Tian’s words long before he finished. Rather than ask that he repeat himself, she begged him to write it all down in her notebook so she could study it later.

“Several of my colleagues have a more in-depth understanding of what I’ve been trying to describe,” Master Tian murmured as he jotted down the details with a shiny black pen. “Perhaps it would be better if I direct you towards–”

A rogue current of air drifted in through the Dojo.

“Lord Sebas?”

Tsuare’s voice drifted in from the front entrance. Startled, Ilyshn’ish snatched her notepad and leapt over the fence. She twisted in midair to avoid landing on a shocked Goblin. Before he could cry out in alarm, she grabbed his head and squished his face into her chest.

“Lord Sebas?” Tsuare’s voice drew closer.

“Ah, Tsuare,” Master Tian said, “did I leave the broom at the front entrance?”

“Yes, it’s right here…what happened?”

“I was demonstrating some ranged techniques and overdid it with one of them. There’s sawdust all over the backyard now.”

Ilyshn’ish glanced down at the Goblin. The scrawny little Demihuman had passed out, so she silently let him down before sneaking out of the Quarter.

After reading Master Tian’s notes for the fourth time, Ilyshn’ish remained as clueless as before. She entered the central distinct to see if any clues could be discerned from practising Adventurers, but it appeared that they had all retired for the night. With a tired sigh, she started to wander around again, wondering what to do.

She had a Gold-rank examination in the morning. With how chaotic the Adventurer battles could become, throwing rocks was as likely to kill a party member as an enemy. It was probably better to stick with Lady Zahradnik’s advice.

At the thought of the Human noblewoman, Ilyshn’ish turned to head towards her city manor. Lady Zahradnik had set aside a room for her, and Ilyshn’ish was feeling too lethargic to fly all the way home. The Death Knights at the gate did not move to challenge her entry, and she opened the door, careful not to make any noise.

As she padded her way inside, Ilyshn’ish stopped when she found herself facing Lady Zahradnik, who was lounging in the patio. The Human noble looked up and offered her a smile.

“Welcome back, Dame Verilyn.”