Chapter 26

Two Masters

It took a little over a week for the seven new recruits to settle into their daily lives and routines. The first few days were spent trying to figure out the different aptitudes that each student possessed. Most of the seven that Lykan had come to campus with had multiple affinities. Javison had the most affinities for those who had been accepted under the Cadet contract, as he was able to work with all four natural elements and healing magic. All the officers proved to be equally as impressive, each being able to master all four elements along with a few bridge concepts.

Telka, too, had been noted as an exceptional healer. Kolana, much as her origins might imply, was exceptional with nature magic as well as healing. Though to compare Kolana and Telka in healing would be unfair. While Kolana far exceeded Javison by sheer strength of Power alone, she was closer to his level of healing than the level of healing Telka was capable of performing. This was not to diminish Kolana nor Javison’s abilities but to show that Telka was in a league all her own when it came to healing.

The Ability to heal was both a blessing and a curse for Telka. Her Abilities meant that she would be pigeon-holed into the role of healer to the detriment of most other studies. The downside of being noted as a competent healer right at the very beginning meant that most martial training would be considered secondary to their primary purpose. Fortunately, Telka already had Lykan as an interpreter. Now all Lykan had to do was prove himself worthy of being made a Protectorate for Telka, a prestigious rank, especially for a non-officer within the magi-corps.

Sword Saint Altier Montague was by all accounts a handsome, if somewhat older, man. His slender frame and sharp features were often hidden by his long salt-and-pepper colored hair, which was the only true indicator of his age. Though, unlike most men who let themselves go with age, Altier Montague had but one true love in life, the sword. Every day he considered himself lucky to have found his one true love in life, that of battle. Better still, he got paid handsomely for his efforts.

When word of Telka’s base Power rating was discovered, Altier knew that he would eventually have to find her a suitable Protectorate. Ideally, the earlier he could pair the two, the better, as it was the Protectorate’s job to lay down his life for his chosen entity.

He had a bit of the story with his newest Protectorate candidate. Apparently, the boy was young, barely old enough to get a Class. Still, the stories told about the boy in question were almost too fantastic to be true. If Altier was to believe the stories, the boy single-handedly saved the homestead seven from imprisonment by Azani slavers.

What was most odd about the story was that the boy apparently had no aptitude for magic as his Power rating was too low to even be recorded.

That was why he was confused when he saw a boy near to bursting with power come forward to the training yard.

“Good Afternoon. I am looking for an Altier Montague?” the boy said.

Looking at the boy, Altier felt a magical density that was nearly overwhelming encompass his body. The boy didn’t have much that wasn’t supplied by the academy, but those items that weren’t supplied by the Academy were clearly imbued with dense magic, the likes of which Altier had never seen. The shoes on his feet glowed with an unnatural spark of nature. Then the sword on his back radiated power. But the most impressive thing about the boy was that the magical items he possessed were dwarfed in comparison to the magical energy he radiated.

Altier was shocked to see the boy. So much so that he failed to see his good friend come, who he asked to help with the evaluation. Master Shai’jan was often called in to help with evaluations as he would be called in to distract students who were unruly. While it was a point of contention, Altier often lost to the unorthodox fighting style posed by Shai’jan’s weightless flying form. While both were in agreement that Altier was the far better swordsman, Altier knew that he would lose in a traditional battle with Shai’jan due to his unorthodox fighting style and Ability to swoop in from odd angles and speeds.

So when Shai’jan froze as he looked at the boy in question, Altier felt a note of curiosity.

“You!” was all Shai’jan managed.

“Oh, will you be the proctor for my exam?” the boy asked.

“No, that falls upon Sword Saint Altier Montague,” Shai’jan said, pointing to the sword saint who was in the lotus position, his sword draped evenly over his lap. Then Shai’jan realizing something he apparently missed in the initial exchange, asked, “Wait, you are the Protectorate candidate?”

“Yes, I have come to be evaluated for the position of Protectorate for Telka,” the boy Lykan said.

“There must be some mistake. We are looking for a soldier who is not even in the Cadet Corps,” Altier cut in, realizing something was inherently wrong in this situation. The boy before them was the most powerful entity he had felt in a long time.

“That is correct. I am but a simple translator for Telka, currently,” the boy said, as he pulled up his uniform bearing the bronze badge with a golden accent showing that he was the lowest of the low here at the school and only here due to his affiliation with a golden candidate.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was your Power rating when you joined?” Altier asked, noting there was something off about this whole situation.

“To be clear, do you want to know my Power rating. Or the rating the school has for me?” the boy asked.

“Are you able to mask your Power rating? Is that how you got through?” Shai’jan asked, suddenly drawn into the questioning of the young monster before them.

“No. I was never tested. After Telka took the test, the orb broke. At which time, we were all taken here to be re-tested. As I was already offered a position to be Telka’s translator, I wasn’t offered the test and given a general contract,” Lykan said.

Hearing that, both Altier and Shai’jan had a moment of confusion cross their faces. Then they turned to look at each other as if in a way to make sure they both had the same question. How could a monster like this not be tested?

The two turned from each other, then stared back at Lykan.

“Do you wish to be an officer?” Altier asked.

The boy had a look of disgust cross his face. “No.”

One word suddenly took the breath out of both their sails as they both visibly deflated at the statement.

“Why not?” Shai’jan asked, a look of confusion crossing his face.

“Right now. My biggest concern is the time constraints. Currently, I have a one-for-one deal, which I assume will be roughly six years in total. Any longer of a commitment then that will likely have a negative impact on my Class.”

“Your Class? Just what Class do you have?” Altier could not think of a single Class that would do worse from gaining fame and prestige of being an officer in the military. Then he heard the one word that made his whole world come crashing down for the second time this entire conversation.

“Wanderer.”

“Wanderer?” Shai’jan parroted his tone incredulous. Both were experts in talking students into taking on longer and more fulfilling contracts with the military. They had arguments ready for any Class, or so they thought.

“Yes, I am a Wanderer,” Lykan said. Then proceeded to show his name and Class.

Name Lykan Vita Class Wanderer

It was the notice of the Gods, undeniable and irrefutable. Altier could feel his curiosity growing as he wanted to find out more about the boy before him. How did he get such an unorthodox Class? Where was he from? Altier noted these questions down for later as he realized the boy was likely correct. Tying down a Wanderer for an excessive period of time would likely cause problems for the Class’s future development.

“What does the Wanderer Class do?” Shai’jan found himself asking.

“I don’t really know. Though lately, I have seen chances.”

“Chances?”

“Well, that’s what I have been calling them in my head. I see destinations that have different colors. The higher the color, the tougher the challenge that awaits me. But that also means that the reward is often greater as well,” Lykan said.

“Is that why you hid your potential from the examiners?” Altier questioned.

“Yes, I saw only a gold future with that path. But if I remained the course, I would get platinum?”

“Platinum, Gold?”

“Yes, my Class seems to follow the money standards. Bronze is the lowest difficulty but the least rewarding. Next is silver, then gold, and now I guess platinum.”

“You guess?”

“I have never seen a platinum future before, until now. That was why I was so curious about it. Even when I signed my future, I knew it was the right thing to do. Then following those same strands of platinum, I was eventually led to you, Master Shai’jan.”

Altier looked from the boy then to Shai’jan, then a dawning realization filled his mind.

“Wait, is this the boy who defeated you? The arrogant whelp you called him?” Sword Saint Altier Montague said, a mocking tone of derision filling his voice. Hearing this, Altier climbed to his feet.

“Yes, as you are no doubt aware, his true sword form is lacking. I assume he makes up for a lot of his deficiencies with his Ability to move around gracefully, but still, that had little to do with the blade,” Lykan said.

“Hahaha!” Altier began chuckling to himself as he rose to his feet, holding his sword.

“I must say I like you already. Anyone who can make Shai’jan fight fairly is worthy of praise. So then, let us begin your examination,” Altier said, pulling his silver blade from its scabbard.

Seeing this, Lykan pulled his sword.

“So you will let me become a Protectorate?” Lykan asked, his sword out in the ready position.

“I will let you do nothing. What you do or don’t do is based solely on your own merits,” Altier said.

With that, a grin filled Lykan’s face as he charged forward.

Clink.

A quick exchange was displayed. Altier’s form was perfect, but Lykan had superior speed and strength on his side.

“Good. It is always more rewarding to earn than receive,” Lykan said as he went in for another exchange of blows.

Shink.

A crisper sound was heard as both blades locked and then split.

The two danced and flowed. Exchanging strikes one after the other.

Soon guards came to watch, wondering if there was a problem. Yet Lykan and Altier paid no mind to the growing clamor around them. Instead, they focused on their form, their movement, and anticipating their opponent's next move.

After a few quick exchanges, it was clear that the sword saint was no longer holding back as he was giving everything he had into each strike and pass. What the boy lacked in Skill, he made up in sheer ability and determination.

Dong ding.

The large clock tower began to ring, a sign that it was time to change classes. The students who were wandering the hallways trying to go to their next class felt pulled toward the training yard where Lykan and the Sword saint practiced.

The school could have been invaded, and the two combatants would hardly have noticed, so focused were they on the battle before them that they were able to block out everything.

The gathering students, the guards who were staring.

Even the Dean of the college found himself drawn to the battle.

“Is the sword saint using a real blade?”

“He must be. Listen to that sound.”

“He will kill him if he slips for even a moment.”

The students conversed amongst themselves as the battle drew on.

Feints and counters were performed with lightning speed and precision. Most in attendance were unable to watch or even keep track of how many blows were being exchanged. Even Shai’jan, who had been acting as the moderator for the fight, found himself backing away from the dizzying duel. In an effort to give the combatants more space, Shai’jan took to the sky to moderate the battle from above.

Even this display of Ability, the act of flying around casually, was lost on many of those who were gathered, so focused were they on the actual fight.

Pure Skill was on display.

The sword saint found his body instantly pulling at his own forms of energy. His personal augmentation to let his body go faster. It was an instinctive Ability that he had honed after countless years of battle. His body pulled the energy to his muscles, causing them to ripple and burst with increased power and precision for a second. Before Altier had a moment to stop himself before he even realized what his body was doing, instinctively, he felt it. The power that came so readily to him drained away in a second.

Pulling back, he stared on in shock at the boy who was now glowing with stolen energy.

Altier was about to say something, but his body started panting for breath now that he had a moment to relax. This was when the boy spoke first.

“Had to keep it fair,” Lykan said. It was clear he wanted to say more, but he too started heaving heavy breaths.

Altier, unable to reply properly, just gave a nod of understanding.

Logic would dictate that they stop, call it a draw. That Altier’s superior Skills were too much for Lykan’s physical advantages.

The two locked gazes, then as if a mental challenge had been issued. The two charged forward again.

Clank. Shink.

Swords crossed in dizzying displays of power, precision, and sheer determination.

“Are they getting faster?”

They were, in fact, getting faster. Sparks were flying from their constant exchanges and flurry of blows.

“Enough!” Shai’jan shouted, but the two were so focused on the fight that they either didn’t hear or chose to ignore the moderator’s words.

Crackle.

Shai’jan reached a hand up to the air and called forth a bolt of lighting. To his hands, the display caused many who had been watching the display to stop and stare at the spectacle.

The two combatants jumped back at the sudden build-up of energy.

Seeing that the two had separated, Shai’jan nodded contentedly that no serious damage had been done.

Still, years of training kicked in for Lykan as he saw a floating Azani shaman calling forth powers from the heavens. His first instinct was to neutralize the threat, which is what he did.

In a second, the energy that had been called from the sky and that was being used to allow Shai’jan to levitate as pulled from his body.

Instantly a wave of healing energy filled Lykan’s tired body as he went from being nearly exhausted to full of energy in a second.

Thud.

Shai’jan crashed to the hard ground, as his body was no longer able to sustain flight from the energy that was coursing through his body. Energy that had been stolen and absorbed in a second by Lykan.

Seeing the falling body before them. Lykan shook his head as he tried to shake loose the haze of battle that had filled his mind.

He realized something. Maybe all the training he had received while at the High Wood Elf stronghold might not be a good thing. That or it had ingrained certain prejudices that he likely needed to fix if he was to be a true member of the world around him.

He ran forward.

Fortunately, Shai’jan was sturdier than he looked and able to get up with little more than a sprained ankle from his fall.

Once Shai’jan was up and being supported by Altier, Lykan gave the two a questioning look.

Feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on them, Altier asked, “What is it?”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine, boy,” Shai’jan said, trying to placate the boy.

“No, it’s not that.” Then realizing that he sounded like a jerk for that statement, he amended. “Well, not entirely that. It’s just…did I pass?”

Hearing that, the two instructors turned to each other and laughed wildly.

“Yeah, you passed, kid. You can be a Protectorate,” Sword Saint Altier Montague said loud enough for everyone gathered to hear.

Hearing that, Lykan let out a sigh of relief.

“If you want. You can be my Protectorate any day,” Shai’jan added with a smile.

With that gesture, the three laughed, and Lykan felt his heart grow a little lighter from the exchange.