After changing out into a set of fine prepared clothes, Kyrion had black hair combed back and trimmed to look more even. They even made him use this dreadful thing called soap. Kyrion tried to take a bite out of it, but it was just horrible, it did not match the fruity smell one bit.

Jala, his small fox companion, was groomed and washed as well. And since she liked getting carried around, Charles got her a new bag, slightly bigger and a lot softer than the previous one. Alexander put on some casual wear and replaced his wooden leg with a metal counterpart that could fit into a pair of brown boots. Asela was given a blue dress, that belonged to their mother, and Charles dressed in his butler uniform.

The five of them left the noble quarter, and entered the merchants district, Alexander leading the way, while Charles made sure a certain child didn’t try to ditch them.

“Hey Alex, we got a sale on pork cuts this week.” Comes from one of the butcher carts.

“I’ll see that my butler pays you a visit then.” He replied, waving his left hand.

“I just got a fresh supply of those Easter Cigars you love so much.” Says another merchant.

Alexander waves him off with, “I’m with my grandkids at the moment, I’ll be sure to visit you when I have some free time.”

More people approach wanting to speak with their grandfather about various matters, from things like arena fights scheduled to happen today, to one man telling him that his wife just gave birth to a baby boy, before thanking him and hugging the big guy. After a while, the people stopped approaching and Alexander let out a sigh of relief.

“Uhh. Grandpa, are you famous?” Kyrion asked, with a sense of curiosity in his eyes.

“No, just well-liked by the people. Used to be a leader during the last few wars with a certain republic. Saved quite a few lives but lost just as many.” His eyes cloud over for a second, “Ah were here, The Thirsty Possum. A place well known for its food, drink, and entertainment. Dorgon's second-oldest son owns the place. It’s becoming more and more popular by the day, but rumor has it the boy will be spreading his wings out of the country soon.”

The logo was that of a possum trying to bite into a cactus, and the establishment looked anything but fancy, but to the two kids who’d never eaten out, it wouldn’t take much to convince them that this place was classy.

Alexander led the group to a family-sized table towards the middle of the establishment, near a stage where a group of musicians were playing a song that inspired excitement through triumph over adversity.

Their waitress was a tall, green-skinned woman in a brown dress that showed a bit too much skin, but didn’t hide the two hand axes strapped to her sides, and muscular all too similar to Alexander.

“Eyy Brigs! These are my grandkids, Kyrie and Ashley, wait that's not right… Anyhow, I’d like the family feast, fit with the appetizers as well. The day is just getting started after all and I’d hate for us to get hungry halfway through it!” Alexander grins, “Also, get some water for the kids, a small bowl of warm milk, and water with lemon for Charles.” He whispers the last part into the waitress's ear. “And a large cup of the good stuff.” The waitress nods before heading off with a stoic expression.

“Uhh... gramps? My name is Kyrion and.” Kyrion begins before getting cut off by his sister.

“Do you know that lady? Is she an orc? And why did we come to a fancy place, you and Charles can cook right?” Asela barrels into the conversation.

Charles’s face goes from stoic to ashen as those words seem to break through his aura of professionalism. Alexander bursts out laughing again and even hits the table which sends a crack into it from the power. Charles pulls out a handkerchief and wipes away the crack almost instantly.

“Kids. Has your mother ever cooked anything alone?” Alexander asked. Kyrion thinks for a bit and shakes his head no. “You see child, nobody in our family can cook, and while Charles won't like to admit it, he isn’t that great either.”

The waitress soon returned with the drinks and some small rolls of bread with some yellow mixture brushed on them, the water had lemon and these cold clear rocks in the cups, which made no sense to Kyrion. The small bowl of milk was placed in front of Jala, who looked at it curiously before burrowing into the breadbasket instead.

“Kyrion, where does all the food she eats go? From what I see two of those dinner rolls are roughly the same size as Jala, yet she has finished six already.” Alexander asked before taking a drink from the brown tankard.

Kyrion shrugs, “Not sure, I was told that if I kept Jala inside all the time I would need to eat double. As I’m lazy and don’t like wasting energy on eating. I let Jala eat as much as she wants. Right Jala?” Kyrion picked up his furry little friend and gave her a hug.

“I see, so it's a living spirit. That's good to know. After we finish with most of the things on my schedule, I’ll be sure to take you to see one of my associates. They tend to have a collection of materials from both monsters, and their spirits.” Alexander puts his tankard down and grabs a bread roll. Which seems to anger the territorial tiny fox.

After a while, Kyrion finished off his cup of water and started waiting on the rest of the food to arrive when everyone in the establishment heard a tankard hit the floor.

“I lost three men and you claim this isn’t the artifact you wanted!?” A muscular warrior with a halberd strapped to his back. “Give me my money or return the artifact. I’ll sell it to someone else for a reasonable price.” He stated.

He was speaking to a thin well-dressed man with weasel-like features, backed up with what seems to be two guards acting as his silent muscle. “No I’ll hold onto this, it looks like it would be a nice trophy of sorts. How about 25% of what we discussed.”

“My men’s lives are worth far more than 25 gold crowns!” A vein pulses on his head as anger burns into his eyes.”

“I don’t se…” The thin man is cut short.

The warrior reaches for the weasel man's neck, and one of the guards tries to intercept it, only for the warrior to grab the guard instead and throw him backward 20 feet into another table which causes another man to drop his drink, in a rage the man throws his table in the direction of where the flying man came from only he overshot a bit and it hits the group of musicians on stage who in anger play a tune that seems to stir up nearly everyone else in the bar, and fights began to erupt everywhere, as food, furniture, weapons, and people are flown about.

“Huh… Well, kids look like we have to leave early. You don’t want to be here when the chef comes out. I’m doing you all a favor, believe me.” Alexander says placing a pouch on his table and escorting the children out of the tavern. Not long after they left a resounding boom echoed from the tavern. “We’ll come back later to finish our meal. Everything should have calmed down by then.”

“Grandpa, why did that guy start a fight?” Asela asked.

“Let's just say, he tried to pull a fast one on that spirit master. It isn’t gonna be pretty for either of them when the owner arrives.”

Asela thought for a long moment and stayed quiet on whatever came to her mind.

“Well, where to next?” Kyrion asked excitedly.

“Towards the arena. I want you to see a few arena fights before I start your martial training, and since, we only have nine days until you start school. While being able to fight isn’t a big thing right now, I would be happier knowing you can defend yourself.” Alexander says, watching the two carefully. They both seem to be eager but it seems to be centered more on curiosity than blood lust.

Soon the group arrived at a large arena made from stone, the walls high enough to be noticeable from a distance, and cheers can be heard from the inside. Each step brings more excitement to the youngest members of the group.

“Four entry passes for today’s matches.”Charles paid for the tickets and the group headed up to their seats.

Alexander reads through the program, “Looks like there are three scheduled fights on the docket. So for basic rules fights end when one person has either surrendered or can no longer continue. Outside the arena are well-trained, healing masters there to prevent worse case scenarios. People do still die in the arena however rare it may be best to see various combat styles in action.”

“People die? How often does that happen?” Kyrion asked warily.

“Maybe once or twice a year. It isn’t an everyday occurrence. If we can help it."

The first set of fighters came out of their respective sides of the arena where 4 pillars stand in between them forming a square that reaches up. The one on the right was the silver-haired man, Leon, this time his hair is tied up and back in a ponytail and he seems to be wearing a breastplate over his chest paired with some greaves and a gauntlet over his left arm. At his side stood a white wolf with well-groomed fur and piercing blue eyes.

Arrayed against them, on the left side of the arena was a sandy-haired muscular man, clad in an odd armor. His weapon seems to be a large shovel live weapon that is affixed to his arm from the elbow down.

“Today we have a treat for you all. Two Expert rank Spirit Masters will be fighting against each other in battle, the first to surrender or become incapacitated loses. Our special guest from the Principality of Ur, serving as an interim at the academy for this year, on the right side is, Leon Malkir! And on the left side, the mean, lean, digging king, the principal of Bean Sprout preparatory academy, the one the only, Yulon Jackson! Now for the moment, you've all been waiting for, 3, 2, 1, fight!”

The fighters rushed towards each other Leon sword in preparation of being drawn, Yulon shovel arm poised for an overhead slam. As the two were about to collide, Yulon jumped 20 feet into the air, and in response, Leon backpedaled and sent his wolf to run around the arena center.

Yulon landed and the earth shook and rumbled in response, as he burrowed into the ground. Within seconds of entering the ground, spikes began to erupt around the arena, turning the previously flat arena floor into a bed of hazardous earthen spikes. Leon and his wolf scale one of the polls and begin to summon power together.

“Wow… their powers won't hit us right?” Kyrion asked, a little worried.

“We’ll be fine, the two fighters can control their strength, and there are some enchantments that prevent magic from exiting the arena.” Alexander nodded.

A wave of ice magic covers the arena and mist begins to rise from the ground, which turns from brown to white in a flash. Yulon shoots out of the ground like a cannonball towards Leon who is caught off guard and blocks the full-body assault, only to be knocked off the pillar, his sword getting flung out of his hand. Leon rights himself in midair and clears the ground with a swipe of his hand before landing on the icy ground destroying the spikes. Yulon jumps down towards Leon, who in turn swiftly slides through the arena on the ice while summoning a blade of ice from the air. Yulon barrels towards him for a final charge and the two engage in a series of cuts, slashes, and parries. Yulon holds the upper hand in raw strength and pushes Leon towards the wall, and when he raises his shovel arm to deliver the victory blow, a sword draws blood from the side of his neck. Leon’s wolf had retrieved his master's sword and used it to end the fight.

“I surrender.” Yulon sighed

“It was a good fight,” Leon replied

Cheers erupt from the spectators' seats as the crowd erupts in applause. The announcer returns to the stage. “We will need 30 minutes to fix the arena, so for now we will have an emergency intermission. We here apologize for the inconvenience.”

Kyrion looks to his grandfather. “So is this what a spirit master fight looks like? Those bandits we saw never stood a chance…” Asela looks awestruck and nods along with what Kyrion asked.

“Huh, you have a long while before you can do anything remotely similar to that.” Alexander laughed.

During the intermission, the group of Kyrion, Asela, Charles, and Alexander discussed the previous fight.

“Why did he wait to have his wolf attack until the end?” Kyrion asked

“Summoned allies tend to be fragile and can only take so much damage before getting forced back into their owners' pool of spirit. In this case, Leon let his spirit be forgotten for a while which allowed it to retrieve his sword, and while he kept their foe distracted, the wolf was waiting for the prime striking opportunity.”

Alexander explained.

“Why did the armor guy come up? Couldn’t he have waited for the ice to melt?” Asela asked.

Charles answered this one, “You see if he waited that long, we’d get bored and would have to go eat and miss the other fights. Also, people need air to breathe.”

“I get it.” She replied.

Kyrion raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

After the arena was repaired and cleared of debris, the next group of fighters enters the arena, one a slim woman with flaming red hair and clothes, skin masked by a constant roiling of flame, on the opposite end is an exceptionally tall and thin man, wearing a feathered cape, full headed mask luchador mask and a speedo. He showily removes the cape and flexes his somewhat meager muscles.

“This round we have two practitioner rank masters, the one you know and tolerate, our high flyer and exhibitionist, or eye in the sky! Skylark!” The announcer then points to the lady wreath in flame. “And in this corner the unseen beauty hidden in the flames, the one who melts hearts and flesh alike, our shy pyromaniac! Ignis!” The crowd cheered in delight.

“Ready? Fight!”

This time Kyrion watches as the announcer fades into nothingness and disappears when the battle starts. “How…” He then looks at the high-flyer as well. “Asela doesn’t that guy feel familiar?”

“Nope never met him. You ok?” Asela looked at her brother seriously.

“It must be my imagination then.” Kyrion said, popping another one of those candies in his mouth.

Unlike the previous fight, the two do not dash towards each other, instead, Ignis lets loose a flurry of red hot balls of fire, which connect to a Skylark who has taken to spinning like a dervish. The balls of flame explode into a torrent of flames but as they disappear nothing remains of Skylark.

“He’s dead!” Asela screams.

“Just watch,” Alexander told her, while patting her head, his eyes transfixed on the fight.

Ignis looked around in confusion while sending out her flames like tendrils searching the arena for any signs of her opponent. What she failed to notice was a man falling from 300 feet up in the air, arms spread behind his back like a diving bird.

“Lark Kick!” He yelled after falling to the point where he was only 30 feet up and sending a wave of slicing wind at Ignis, who rolled away from the attack.

“That was not a kick she yells letting loose a wave of flame at where Skylark was previously.

“But this is!” he replied, propelling himself feet first at Ignis' target and hitting her head on in the back. Skylark retreated foot aflame after the connection. While Ignis was pushed forward and into the ground.

“Hot! Hot! Hot!” He yelled while trying to put it out.

The two engaged in a dance of ranged attacks, she threw balls of fire and he either intercepted them with blades of wind or evaded. Skylark burst forward again, dancing through the barrage of fire, and before colliding with he used a burst of wind to propel himself around in a circular path, ending up at the back, where he punched forward sending a wave of powerful wind at his foe.

It struck her back, knocking her into the ground. This time however he was noticeably more exhausted.

Ignis staggered to her feet. “Ready to finish this?” Spitting red hot blood on the arena floor.

“Honestly I’m about out reserve wise. What say I finish this now.” He said getting into a take-off position. He sent himself forward at a previously unseen speed at Ignis who in turn put up a solid wall of flame in between the two. Skylark pierced straight through it and hit the wall hard and as the smoke cleared, he lay alone and unconscious speedo perfectly fine but his mask was on fire.

Ignis appears from inside her wall of flame exhausted, but otherwise fine. She staggers outside of the arena towards the healers.

Skylark is taken out on a stretcher and the arena is fixed quickly as most of the damage was superficial.

The next set of fighters enter the arena. One is a man with two large caddies with various hilts and handles poking out, over his eyes is a black blindfold tied over his eyes and forehead. Long jet back hair that falls to his back with a few white strands mixed in. He is dressed in long black robes that keep his hands and feet hidden. Next to enter is a blond-haired child with a cart full of orbs, on his head is a pair of goggles, and he is dressed in a pair of overalls, his eyes shifting between blue and green as he locks onto his opponent.

“Didn’t we see the blindfold guy earlier?” Asela asked Charles.

“Yes. We did, which is odd, they normally don’t show off in public events like these. But it explains why they were in the city.” A worried expression appears on his face...

“Lastly we have special participants who are not spirit masters but say they have abilities that are equal to that of expert rank spirit masters. While their abilities are untested and background kept to a minimum I can say that on the right corner we have a man who calls himself, The Eyeless Hydra, and he calls himself an Ascetic, of the Silver Flame sect. Next up is another man who told me his name was Frank Jones, who is a student of Golemancy from the Lodrim, Archipelago. Ready? begin!”

This fight was the most unique one so far, the child dumped his cart into the ground and the orbs sunk into it and out from the ground raised an army of monsters made of dirt and stone. On the other side of the arena, Eyeless had thrown up both of his caddies causing them to rain their contents of all sorts of bladed weapons all over the ground of the arena.

“What are they doing?” Kyrion asked.

“There are many styles of combat, Golemancy revolves around commanding and enhancing other creatures that fight for you. Golemancers can lead armies of their own creations, the only downside is that they are costly and time-consuming. While the eyeless tend to deploy assassination techniques and stealth. This style in particular is rare though. When mystics reach a certain level of power they specialize in a specific school. I have seen other hydra styles in action, the ear-less and the arm-less in particular. It tends to revolve around an onslaught of some type. Believe it or not, I lost my arm fighting one an arm-less clan hydra. They can be a vindictive sort. It’s a good thing schools tend to not get along with each other.”Alexander explained.

Kyrion looks a mixture of shocked and confused.”What do you know?”

Alexander replies with a grin. “Enough. Years of experience in combat. I’ve had quite a few arms.”

After all the preparations, the fight truly began, six small rock creatures, around four feet in height barrel forth, in a scattered formation, followed by three medium-sized creatures that were six feet tall, and a large one that was at least fifteen feet tall with a giant cannon in its chest.

As the first wave arrives, Eyeless swipes his hand in a vertical line which seemingly causes 20 or so fallen blades to pierce into the front line with practiced efficiency. By the end of the barrage of flying blades, only two beat-up small golems remain.

Seeing this the medium-sized golems retreat from where the swords remain and begin hurling rocks at him. Which he intern seems to dodge as though he knew where they were going to land before the golems did. The big golem let loose a black metal ball the size of a boulder. Eyeless made no attempts to dodge and forced all his weapons to fly towards him, forming some sort of dome around his body in which an explosion echoed, many blades lay destroyed on impact but aside from that Eyeless is fine, and in turn charges forward, willing his blades into a whip-like formation around like snakes. Each serpent tore into the medium and small golems with ease, until he arrived at the large golem who brushed away the strikes with its raw power.

The large golem used the body of a medium golem to destroy three of six of the serpents, forcing eyeless to retreat towards a pillar that was soon shot and destroyed. Eyeless began to hide behind each of the remaining three pillars as they were destroyed by cannon fire and with no place to hide he charged forward, sweat rolling down his brow as he summoned more of his mystical power. When he attacked this time it wasn’t with six serpents but 24, mostly made from the dirt and debris of the fallen pillars, dust, and cannonball fragments. His next barrage of strikes boomed through the arena like a blacksmith striking an anvil. The final golem brought to the point only dust remained.

“Do you surrender?” Eyeless ask his opponent who nods in reply. “Sorry I didn't catch that.” He said with a smirk.

“And the winner by a brutal showing of force is Eyeless!” Says the announcer

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause as both fighters walk out of the arena which, like the first battle was destroyed, but unlike the first battle, this degree of damage was many times higher.

“I wanna fight like that Eyeless guy, making all those weapons fly around is cool!” Kyrion said excitedly.

“I see, how about you Asela? Where should we focus your training?” Alexander asked.

“I don’t know, Ignis was pretty cool but I'd rather not be on fire.” She replied.

“To be fair, I wouldn’t set myself on fire either.” Alexander looks up at the evening sun. “Well, kids, we're burning daylight. Let's hit up the Jr. weapons shop, they have all sorts of blunt non-murderous weapons for training purposes. But remember even a blunted weapon is still lethal so be careful.”