Chương 128: The Start of The Tournament

A few more days passed as the Rhellian Institute performed the last-minute preparations for the friendly tournament to take place between all the schools they had invited to their campus. It wasn't just Arcoryx Academy and the Rhellian Institute battling against one another. Eviliyen School and the Jure University were in the mix too. Ryland wasn't at all surprised by the presence of academies from other Realms. Rhel wished to enter the Accords, and the Accords comprised of multiple member Realms.

Inviting only one would be seen as a slight to the rest, so Kindly Mavar had no choice but to host at least a handful of academies. The interesting fact was that they had all been invited together. Instead of hosting each academy in a separate semester, they had contingents from all the guest academies at the same time. It left things a little more chaotic than it otherwise would have been, but also a lot more interesting as well.

They were holding the tournament at one of the largest grounds available in the entire institute. The wide field was bounded by the start of a mountain range on one side, with the institute's various buildings on the other. Decorated stands stood tall, banners for the different academies fluttering in the wind thanks to the Glyphs Inscribed on the high walls nearby. At the moment, the day's combatants were gathering at their respective tents.

The stands themselves were slowly filling up with attendees, many of them important dignitaries, especially from Rhel's more militaristic side, such as their famed Guardians. This had the makings of a rather interesting event, if Ryland said so himself.

"Why do you have a special exemption?" Sint asked when the graduate student representatives were meeting up. Just like with the duels at Arcoryx Academy, it would be the seniormost students starting things off for everyone. It was more of a well-established practice than Ryland had realized.

"Well," High Academ Tyra said.

"I suspect that's because he's Ryland." Ryland cleared his throat.

"The Rhellian Institute smartly recognized that having other students challenge me would be doing a disservice to their students and to any onlookers present."

"And make the Rhellians feel humiliated after what happened the last time," Sint muttered. True enough. It had been just a few days since those students from Ryland's lecture had challenged him to a duel. For all that High Academ Zevo had reprimanded his institute's pupils for daring to challenge Ryland, maybe it had been less because Ryland was supposed to be a respected teacher and more because they had been thoroughly overcome by him. Or maybe it was a strong mix of both. Who knew?

Ryland had no reason to think too uncharitably about Zevo, even if the guards hadn't treated him very well on his first day back at Rhel. They weren't all the same. Although, from a certain perspective, maybe they were. Ryland decided against thinking about that too much.

"Good luck on your fight, Sint," Ryland said.

"Do you happen to know your opponent?"

"I do," she said.

"Some brilliant individual that Rhel seems overly proud of. Why?"

"It would probably help to perhaps scout out who it is and prepare accordingly."

"Would you have scouted out your opponent and prepared accordingly?" Ryland deliberated for a moment.

"No, I don't think I would have."

"Why is that?"

"Well," High Academ Tyra repeated.

"I suspect that's because he's Ryland." Sint stared between the two of them with a growing scowl. Then she sighed.

"You may have a point. Although, the idea of spying on others doesn't sit well with me."

"There is a difference between spying the opposing camp," Tyra said.

"And simply collecting information on your opponent."

"Actually," Ryland said.

"There is a lot of benefit to spying on the enemy camp as well." This time, Sint was joined by Tyra as they both gave Ryland odd looks. Hmm. Maybe he had said something he shouldn't have this time, pulling on experiences they didn't quite have the right context for. Neither of them had been alive during the Realmbreaker Wars, after all. Sint did agree with their overall point, however. So, thanking them, she left to gather information as had been recommended to her.

Ryland's shadow, that guard captain whom the Rhellians insisted keep following him, was once again sticking close. He had stood outside the tent for privacy reasons, but now, he didn't let Ryland leave his sight.

"Do you have a favourite?" Ryland asked the captain.

"Regarding who's going to win this tournament." The man took his time answering.

"I do." A pause.

"Well, I did. I'm not quite as certain any longer." That was an odd thing to say. Ryland was about to probe further, but he was distracted when Yulkaviel called him over to join the old elvhenan at his stands. The mood around the stands was quite excitable. People were looking at the battlefield, awaiting the arrival of the combatants. The pennants and banners still fluttered in the wind, and the administration had added trumpets and drums to the atmosphere.

Everyone was waving around little flags representing their academies. It all seemed quite fun. Most of the attendees had been grouped into sections where they'd have familiar faces around them. The only exception was Ryland. And his shadow too, technically.

"I'm surprised you'd rather sit with me than with all the other dignitaries," Ryland said. To be fair, they were sitting with the other dignitaries. Not just the local important political figures. There were powerful mages all around Ryland. Even one of the Guardians, a mage who stood only below the Demiurge himself. His power was a tightly controlled thing, like a shining balloon about to burst between them all, and his mere presence alone outshone everyone else in the vicinity.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Yulkaviel smiled. The old elvhenan had taken a seat at a more nondescript location rather than inviting Ryland into the dignitaries' section.

"Do you detest my presence so?"

"Not at all," Ryland said.

"I'm merely reporting my surprise, since I'd expect the Second High Adjutant to join the rest of the important personages."

"Perhaps. But the other thing I'd like to impress is that those with true power have no restrictions on where they can go."

"Fair enough." No one appeared to bat an eye that the Second High Adjutant was sitting with some random sub-Academ from Arcoryx Academy, or why said random sub-Academ wasn't sitting with the rest of his group. But since no one was raising a fuss, Ryland could happily ignore what anyone else thought. Ryland and Yulkaviel sat in companionable silence as the combatants took to the field. Sint appeared from one end, receiving a polite round of claps from everyone in the Arcoryx contingent.

Her opponent, however, received a far more rousing reception. Ryland frowned. That was the student who had challenged him. He clanked into the field with his armoured robes, and his immediate appearance had everyone representing Rhel loudly clapping and cheering. It was like a local hero had taken the field, embracing the adoration of the crowd. And it was deserved too. It took only a second or two to note some of the Inscriptions the youth had on him, and the strongest one was at Tier [10].

For a student who probably wasn't much stronger than Gold-ranked, that was quite the achievement.

"From Arcoryx Academy," the announcer said, revealing the combatants for everyone.

"We have Sint Valieri, one of the foremost students at the academy and a member of the record-setting team at their Entrance Trials." Even at this distance, Ryland could see Sint scowling a bit at that descriptor.

"And for our audacious combatant from Rhel," the announcer said, to loud cheers from other Rhellian students.

"We have the highest scorer at the regional examinations in a decade, the winner of the Southern Continent Youth Tournament, and the head of the Institute Security, Suthor Domasz!" More cheers and claps. Even the dignitaries at Ryland's stand clapped effusively to show their appreciation of a rising Rhellian mage. Sint didn't look like she cared for that introduction one bit.

"Thank you again, High Adjutant," Ryland said.

"For not making me participate in this." The old elvhenan gave Ryland another little smile.

"Oh, I would never have dreamed of such a thing. Plus, after that little incident with the other students, the administration was very amenable to an exception." Just as Sint had figured. The announcer had quickly departed, freeing the battlefield so the combatants could proceed. With a signal and another cheer from everyone attending the contest, the fight started. A furious display of sorcery burst free from both mages.

It appeared they had both been keeping their magic tightly controlled, ready to unleash at the first opportunity, just as the Guardian was holding himself back actively. Sint's spell distorted out to claw through reality, while the Rhellian student summoned up his ice. Magic that was familiar to Ryland. He had seen Sint's power back during the Entrance Trials they had taken together. More recently, he had faced Suthor's magic himself. The collision of their sorceries made the entire arena go hush.

Pieces of frost sprayed everywhere, Sint's clawing strikes gouging out everything they could reach. She was relentless, aggressive from the very first instant of the battle, giving her opponent no space at all. Whatever else Sint might have been, she was certainly not arrogant. She wasn't holding back. Victory was her goal, and she'd respect no restraints in her attempt to secure it. Sadly, her opponent was tremendously skilled too.

All those titles the announcers had mentioned weren't for show, and all the cheers and applause were well-deserved. His icy magic came alive with incredible speed, repelling Sint's strikes with enough time and efficiency to open her up for counters from Suthor. Ryland found himself quite interested in his combat style now that he was fighting someone so physically aggressive like Sint.

Back when he had faced off against Ryland, he had been content to blast out powerful spells in conjunction with that of the other students. Now, however, he proved that he had far more in his arsenal than they had previously thought. His physical aptitude was no less developed than Sint's. If anything, Ryland would probably admit that he was better at it, though Sint would probably never accept it. What really intrigued Ryland was the Rhellian student's specific fighting style.

The way he jabbed, the way he maintained his stance in the tiny moments before he and Sint collided again, the way his body moved and flowed in the midst of the battle. They all wowed everyone else present. For Ryland, they reminded him of the Realmbreaker Wars. It seemed Mavar had kept some of the traditions that had arisen back when Rhel had first come about. Like with so many other aspects of life, Rhellians had developed their own culture and style around combat too.

One geared specifically towards repelling other Realms and their mages for when their last home was invaded. As such, Suthor had a direct counter for Sint's style of combat. The mana-repelling armour of his combined with his icy magic was really hampering Sint. She was breathing heavily, her exertion helping her shrug off the chill but still affecting her movements. The crowds were busy cheering on both combatants.

While the sheer numbers of the Rhellians meant that the Arcoryx contingent was easily overwhelmed, they were finding their space to show their support. Ryland saw multiple mages think about enhancing their support with magic, but that sort of thing was strictly limited to prevent any tampering with the battle. Sint and Suthor separated from another ice-shattering clash, staggering back several steps. Sint's robes were covered in ice, while Suthor bore several scratches on his armour.

"Who do you think will win, Ryland?" Yulkaviel asked lightly. Ryland watched the fight for a moment longer, inspecting the combatants preparing for a final clash.

"I'm afraid I must admit to a loss." The guard captain standing behind Ryland clanked an armoured foot in surprise. Then both combatants dashed in. Sint appeared to reach her opponent first. Her knives slashed out, her Soul Glyph of Distortion slicing through her opponent and taking off his arm. The sheer brutality of the move shocked the whole stadium into immediate silence, with Sint herself jerking just a bit at the ease with which she had inflicted that awful wound.

But that twitch, that break in her concentration, was exactly what Suthor was looking for. The arm turned out to be fake. As soon as it had fallen, as soon as Sint had been distracted from the limb falling away, the arm had exploded. It had been a ruse from the beginning, a creation of magic with a Glyph Inscribed into it, one that had been primed to detonate in the right condition. Sint didn't even get the chance to cry out at the explosion.

She might still have survived the blast, but it had never been aimed to hurt her. Not really. Instead, she was now trapped, a deep layer of ice encasing her legs. Suthor had trapped her. And now, he was leaping high into the sky to come down with a tremendous explosion of power. Right as he reached the peak of his ascent, his whole body turned into a meteor of ice. It was as though Sint herself was about to be crushed underneath an iceberg shaped like an upside-down mountain.

She wasn't entirely defenceless, of course. Taking the time to free herself from the ice trap would indeed leave her at the mercy of the descending iceberg, so she decided to tackle it directly instead. She slammed her knives together to unleash a ringing shriek that made nearly everyone clutch their ears. An aura of distortion enveloped her. Everyone leaned forward to watch that final clash, eyes fixed right on the point where the two collided. The meeting of opposing sorceries sent out a rippling shockwave.

Ice shattered in a sharp explosion, bleeding light everywhere, while knifing slashes of Sint's Distortion leaped in all directions. When the mist cleared, when the magic stopped pulsing with enough fury to crack the earth and the air, Ryland found himself leaning forward too. He was proven right. A victorious Suthor was standing tall over Sint, who now lay on the ground with a defeated expression. Ryland felt rather sorry for her.

In the sea of chaotic cheers and applause, he could only wonder how crushed she felt at having lost the opening battle against the Rhellians.

"Our victor for the match," the announcer proclaimed with just as much enthusiasm as the crowd.

"Is Suthor Domasz!" The crowd went somewhat insane at that.

"It seems you were proven right," Yulkaviel said. Ryland nodded.

"I wish I hadn't been. If you will excuse me, High Adjutant."

"Of course. But before you go, I just wanted to say that we found out where the next… part of you is." Ryland turned to face him head-on.

"Where?"

"At the Crypts."