[i]Hey guys

Late post sorry, got lazy again....

anyway this was PR'ed by xecon and Root Greevil. THaksyou guys for the awesome job

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croppingprince[/i]

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“DEI!!! DEI!! WAKE UP!!! DEI??!”

My ears trembled as I heard Eamon’s voice sending reverberations through my ear canal. I squinted and opened my eyes to find Eamon’s face extremely close to mine. He was screaming and seemed genuinely worried.

“DEI…oh my God…what happened??” Eamon asked.

“Is it the morning??” I muttered still dazed from what happened the night before. I remembered the crystal clear azure flames that covered my right hand. The flames were hot, extremely hot. They were hundreds of times more powerful than my fire magic. That was the last thing I remembered. Transient images of the flames kept assaulting my brain until I finally calmed down and found myself in Eamon arms.

*Lucifer…*

*Lucifer…*

My shouts got no response…

I needed to know what had happened and, judging by Lucifer’s reaction, I am sure those blue flames were not ordinary.

I realized I was still in Eamon’s arms in a somewhat awkward position so I quickly stood up and dusted myself off. I found that Eamon had a worried expression plastered on his face.

“Eamon, I am fine…can’t you see?” I urged.

“What are you talking about? You had no heartbeat and it seemed as though your entire body had shut down. Did you stay here all night? What the hell in God’s name were you doing here? I was sure you were dead. Were you practicing magic or something else?” He asked. I could see he was both annoyed and scared at what had happened.

I was annoyed at what happened too. I didn't know what the problem was with the Silver Star tattoo on my chest, but it was mind-boggling and troublesome.

Noticing my silence as an admittance of guilt, Eamon spoke up.

“I knew it. You exhausted all your mana didn't you? Are you pathologically stupid? Everybody knows that when you completely drain your mana pool the magic siphons off your vigor and completely depletes it. There have been cases where people have died due to mana exhaustion,” he explained.

“I didn't know that. I am sorry for worrying you…” I replied sheepishly.

“Did you try to activate magic without supervision?” Eamon grunted.

“Yeh…” I replied scratching my head in an apologetic manner.

“You are an actual idiot… Did you know the reason many of us haven’t activated our magic? It’s because activating magic needs extreme concentration. Sometimes without the correct guidance students are literally eaten away by the overwhelming nature of the elemental force,” Eamon replied.

“Anyway, we have our main class today. We need to quickly leave, we are late as it is,” Eamon said, before swiftly urging me to get ready.

I hurriedly took a shower before putting on the white jacket and black pants. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and quickly headed out to meet Eamon.

I was still apprehensive about Eamon. He reminded me a lot of Aramis and I when we were still young.

It felt wrong to judge him because of something like that, but I could feel that my heart was still not at ease from the betrayal. I found it hard to make friends these last 12 years; I didn't interact with any children my own age and focused singularly on training my body.

I may have blamed my isolation throughout my childhood on revenge but I knew deep in my heart I was still apprehensive and the trauma from the betrayal on earth still hounded me.

Both of us went through the large gate into the inner sanctum of this massive academy.

When I opened the door, it creaked and I found a large membrane like barrier covering the outsides of the school. I could see the academy in front of me, a towering castle with massive stone walls, arranged as if it were a medieval castle. We swiftly passed through the membrane and entered. The membrane was clear and had small amounts of visible mana fluctuations in it. When we entered,

The bracelet gave off a small glow as we entered and I realized that the bracelet also acted as an identification device.

We hurriedly walked through the entrance and headed to the first-year section of the academy. It was a long walk and the hallways were completely empty. There were no sounds except for the muffled sound of our footsteps. I was now sure we were somewhat late, and saw that Eamon was visibly sweating from nervousness.

We soon arrived in from of our classroom, 1-1. We walked in and were soon greeted with the piercing stares of classmates. Many of the students were looking at me with mixed expressions, some were staring daggers at me candidly while some were patronizing me.

I could not see Siri, or Lisa and Nisha. They must have been assigned to a different classroom. I was somewhat glad to not see Siri. I wasn't sure if I wanted to face the repercussions of yesterday’s confrontation. I was quite tired as it is.

“Mr. Demidov, Mr. Henrick, it seems you are late…” I quickly did a full 360 to find a lithe man with long flowing green hair and eyes like slits staring at us. I was surprised; this was the first time since my metamorphosis in the Necropolis that I was startled. Ever since the change I was able to notice everything around me in a much higher magnitude. From the change in the movement of the wind alone I could detect the whereabouts of a person.

His appearance was quite exotic with long flowing light green hair coupled with pale skin and a streamlined build. He didn't seem to bulge out with muscle, but he didn't seem skinny either.

“Eamon I didn't expect to find you under my tutelage, well it is good to see a former disciple. I hope you didn't forget anything I taught you,” he giggled.

His voice was sly, evil, and I could hear a hint of malicious intent in every word he spoke. He reminded me of a coiled viper baring its fangs, ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

I made a small curt bow and apologized sincerely for my tardiness.

“Sorry sir, I made the mistake of oversleeping. Eamon was merely kind enough to wake me up. It is due to my sluggishness that he too is late,” I replied.

“Hmmm…” he hissed. His snake-like eyes staring intently at us.

Suddenly his expression changed and his evil aura was replaced with one of cheerfulness.

“No harm done. Go find yourself a seat so we can continue with the introductions.” He gestured at the two free seats in the front.

“As I was saying my name is Anguis Vetero and I will be your main mentor for your duration of your stay,” He smiled.

“As some of you may have known, I have somewhat…hmmm…what…do you call it…hmmm…a ruthless reputation in this academy. I can assure you that is nothing but lies. As you can see I am nothing but a cheerful and enthusiastic teacher, who wants nothing more than to see you guys succeed in your path to power,” He giggled.

This guy is definitely not normal, I thought. He has the same look I saw in many of the people I killed on earth. The same psychopathic look that manifests in some of the truly insane people. I involuntarily shuddered and turned to my right to see Eamon quivering uncontrollably. He had a pale expression and looked quite scared.

They seemed to be in a master disciple like relationship, but from Eamon’s sudden change in personality, I could tell this guy was not normal.

“Traditionally, we have you guys fight it out to see which combat class you are capable of entering. Combat class not only trains you in the way of the warrior, but also trains you in using your magic in conjunction with your combat style to bring out your maximum potential,” He continued.

“I feel that there may be many who may be unusually talented in this class,” he said, his gaze coming to rest on me.

“So I have decided that each of you will fight me,” He said, nonchalantly.

I turned around to see hundreds of students, their eyes widening and jaws dropping. They were all extremely surprised.

“Of course, I won’t fight you with my full abilities and will restrict myself to the level of a Serf in both magic and warrior cultivation. But I don't want to see any of you unwilling to participate in this fun event…out of fright,” He grinned.

“Sir…every year, only the first-years have battled each other to determine their combat ability. Shouldn't we also do the same?” A boy at the back asked, his voice somewhat shaky.

Anguis swiftly turned and, even before I could follow his movements, in the blink of an eye I saw him right in front of the boy who had sat back down and was shivering with fear as Anguis stared at him.

“Mr. Levias, who is the master in this class?” Anguis asked, his voice returning to his dangerously evil tone.

“Y…yo…you sir,” Levias replied. His heart was beating wildly and his back forming massive puddles of cold sweat.

“Then let’s not question the master. It is extremely rude…” Anguis replied, his tone hushed in a whisper but, due to the soundless nature of the room, everyone heard it loud and clear and didn't dare to comment back.

“Well then. Everybody let's head out to the training field shall we?” He said, back to his cheerful tone.

He had quite the sporadic personality.

We soon found ourselves in the massive courtyard and, in the far side, I could see other first-year classes who were already locked in combat with each other. The students in my class stared at them intently and were envious of their position.

“Who wants to volunteer first?” Anguis yelled, gesturing at us.

Nobody put their hand up. They were somewhat aware that the first would be the victim. They somehow knew this guy would not go easy on them. I didn't want to put my hand up either. His ability to sneak up on me means his capabilities were far above from mine. I also knew that I needed to get an idea of his combat style to see if I had a way to counteract it.

“Since we have no volunteers…Eamon!!” he called out.

“Let’s spar boy,” he yelled. His grin becoming quite wide.

Eamon just stared. His expression included denial, shock and, foremost, terror, but he soon steeled his nerves and slowly, cautiously walked out to the field. With a flip of his hand Anguis pulled out a small ordinary looking short sword. It was one of the spare sparring weapons provided by the school; if someones primary weapon broke they would use this until the blacksmith mends it.

Eamon flipped his hand and an exquisite golden-red Partizan like spear flew out with Eamon clutching the middle of the spear in a strong grip. The spear radiated a fierce aura and could be easily identified as quite an exquisitely crafted item. The other students were transfixed at the beauty of the spear and were cheering him on.

When the numerous students’ encouragement reached Eamons ears I could see a visible change in his demeanor. He became more confident and had a smile on his face as he lunged at Anguis. His golden hair fluttered as he danced with the spear around him.

I could tell Eamon had prior knowledge of Anguis’s fighting style as he dashed forward with great speed while dodging his initial strikes. He seemed to be a Serf level warrior and was quite powerful, maybe even a Peak stage one at that. I was surprised, as it was extremely hard to even achieve the level of a Serf warrior as it requires extremely vigorous training. With my 12 years of fierce training I had just become a Serf. It was very unusual for a noble child to be able to train to that degree.

Eamon soon arrived with a fierce thrust, small gusts of wind followed after his every strike.

He jumped to the side and swept the spear across Anguis’ midriff, to which Anguis reacted with minimal effort, expertly using his own strength to slide the spear off with the hilt of his short sword.

Anguis then slid from Eamon’s view, twisted behind him, and then twisted his spear in an unnatural position so he had no choice but to drop it. Eamon cried in pain, and I could see than Anguis used the full extent of a Serf’s power to break a few bones in Eamon’s fingers.

It was extremely hard to use the full extent of your power in any power level as you would need years of experience and training. It would take an expert to use the full capability of his power in a masterful fashion.

“Pick up your weapon Eamon,” he chided

Eamon quickly picked it up and quickly changed his stance. He held the spear in front him sideways before twisting and turning it in the air. I could see he was quite angry.

He lunged again, this time more aggressively, grunting and making extremely animalistic noises. His expression turned extremely vigorous as he went on to expertly use the spear.

He made large thrusts and slashes, and even managed to dodge some of Anguis’ attacks. He was exhausted though, and I could see cold sweat dripping down his back. Soon he was on the ground admitting defeat with Anguis right in front of him.

All the children were astonished. Without a doubt Eamon was extremely powerful for his age. Most of the children thought he would not even last 5 minutes in the fight, but he was surprisingly able to keep at it for a long while. His animalistic and sudden change also made him out to be an extremely powerful fighter. He was without a doubt the cream of the crop.

I could soon see that there was an extremely thin amount of green fog drifting in the region around Eamon. He too soon noticed and his eyes suddenly contracted. He stared in disbelief and soon fell to the ground clutching his throat.

He was battering on the ground, his chest heaving up and down. I was extremely surprised and went on to the training field to find that Anguis had thrust his short sword into Eamons shoulder blade.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Eamon cried

Everyone was incomparably scared. They were sure they heard Eamon admitting defeat, out of sheer exhaustion, but Anguis had not only poisoned him but also harmed him in an incomparably brutal manner. Many of these children being noble had never experienced real pain and cruelty in their life and clutched at their stomachs, throwing up at the sight of blood.

“This is what happens to late comers. Anyone who dares to come late again will feel pain one hundred times worse,” He sniped, still with an extremely thick evil aura radiating from him.

Eamon was in extreme amounts of pain, gasping for air and begging for it to stop. I was beyond furious now. No teaching should be this harsh. My eyes were bloodshot and my golden tattoo was blazing with power.

I ran across onto the training field and, just in time, caught Anguis’ second attack. I summoned my weapon and in my hand landed a majestic steel Bokuto.

“Clang”

The completely black, blunt weapon stopped Anguis’ swing. Soon, golden orange flames danced across the metal Bokuto, circling it and making it incomparably hot.

“Ohohoh…what do we have here.”

FLASHBACK (4 years ago)

I was swinging the thick Wooden Bokuto down, thick beads of sweat glistening on my back. I had crafted this Bokuto myself. Using the largest tree I could find, I continuously practiced using only this Bokuto on the top of the hill every day.

On earth I was undoubtedly extremely powerful. What made me this way was my prowess with the Bokuto. When called for a duel, I would defeat my opponents only using a Bokuto, nothing more.

“1051...1052...1053…” I counted.

The art of swordsmanship I trained in was something known to no one. I was the only disciple to learn it from my master. The master who found a suitable person worthy of learning it passed it on from generation to generation. It was called Spiritual Forging!

Spiritual Forging does not mean jumping around in wild abandon, but instead means attempting to perform each motion perfectly every time. The motions were complex, strained the mind, and required great concentration. Great fatigue overwhelms the analytical mind. Performing this technique perfectly in the face of exhaustion can reveal a type of power considered spiritual, since it seems to not be physical and is not easily understood but gives great power to the wielder. One that could make him the almost almighty.