Chương 129: Ignition

The Crypts. The location where the Rhellians ceremonially preserved their dead as part of their funerary rites. Ryland didn't know much about the location as it had arisen after his permanent departure from Rhel. Well, permanent till now. He wasn't ignorant about it, of course. Other sources had revealed how it had been one of Mavar's greatest undertakings, how it had united the Rhellians after a period of stagnation and disquiet, and a great deal else.

"I'd like to talk more," Ryland said.

"But for now, I will take my leave." Yulkaviel nodded.

"Please come back for the next few matches. I'd like to actually talk about it for I sense that you have many questions you'd like to discuss as well." Ryland did have a good deal to discuss. He didn't fail to note the hint of invitation in his voice. He recalled the little promise he had extracted before he had come to Rhel. Yulkaviel had finally decided it was time to talk about it. But for now, there was a different pressing matter to attend to.

Wasting no further time, Ryland returned to the tent where the next graduate student fight was about to start. This one was between students from Jure and Eviliyen, so he didn't have much interest in the outcome. But what he was here for wasn't present. Sint was gone, and a little questioning revealed that she had left for her room. He did find High Academ Tyra, however, who said that it was best to give Sint some space. She hadn't taken the defeat very well. Ryland decided to return to the stands.

Yulkaviel was there, waiting for him.

"I'll be happy to discuss further, Ryland," the old elvhenan said.

"But allow me a few moments to enjoy the next battle. Mind giving me another prediction?" Ryland declined the prediction, but he allowed Yulkaviel his little joy. The next bout was once again between a Rhellian graduate student and one from Arcoryx—Linsby. Sadly, this went much the same way as the last one. Linsby wasn't anywhere near as impressive as Sint, and though he showed competence expected of his level, he was still soundly beaten by his Rhellian opposition.

The Rhellians were growing quite boisterous about their victories. Especially when there was another match, but this one was announced as a victory for the Rhellian student by default. Because his opponent wasn't present. Said opponent was Ryland. Or was supposed to have been Ryland, but he had been given an exemption to participation, which the announcer didn't bother to add. To call that odd was a major understatement. This was almost an insult, if Ryland was being honest.

Which was why he turned to Yulkaviel with a heavy frown.

"High Adjutant, I was under the impression we had a valid understanding about my exemption." Yulkaviel looked nonplussed at the series of events too.

"I explained the matter to the authorities. I forwarded the completed forms you sent me. Everything is supposed to be in order…" Well, it clearly wasn't. Ryland was starting to feel more annoyed than he should have, especially given the surrounding contextual information. This was further compounded by how boisterous the Rhellians were about one of the Arcoryx Academy members being "too frightened" to fight one of their own. The absolute worst aspect was that it was the crowning moment of the day's bouts.

That last fight was supposed to have been the final battle of the day. And now, everyone would leave—was already leaving—with their thoughts revolving around the apparent cravenness of the missing student. The whole thing felt like a terrible setup pointedly orchestrated to humiliate Arcoryx Academy. Ryland stood up as everyone else was doing the same, murmuring and chattering as they left the stands. For some strange reason, the guard captain behind him appeared to shrink away from him, creating a wider distance.

Naturally, Ryland's suspicion of foul play immediately went to the fellow, though he didn't get the chance to interrogate the fellow.

"What a sad state of affairs, wouldn't you say, High Adjutant?" said the man in shining armour and robes. The Guardian had decided to accost the Second High Adjutant of Rhel before his departure, so he had come down the front of the stands. His grey eyes fell on Ryland with a glint of recognition, proving his words were very pointed.

"Sad indeed, Nesmel," Yulkaviel said coldly.

"When my own institute uses underhanded means to humiliate a school that should be an honoured guest." Guardian Nesmel frowned.

"I don't understand what you mean, High Adjutant. Underhanded means?" Yulkaviel proceeded to inform the Guardian the exact same things he had told Ryland. That the processes had been followed, that the authorities should have known beforehand, and the match should have been cancelled to begin with. All of which meant there shouldn't have been this weird show of putting down the person who had forfeited.

"Ah, is that so?" Guardian Nesmel said.

"I find that hard to believe. But even if that was the case, then I don't see how that makes much of a difference." The Guardian was playacting. For some reason, he had chosen to be unaware of what was going on. Ryland wasn't always the best with people, but sometimes, it was quite obvious even to him when someone wasn't being truthful. It helped that Ryland had a small Glyph of Truth tucked away confirming his suspicions.

"Perhaps you won't understand the difference," Yulkaviel said.

"But I'm afraid that I—" Ryland didn't really intend to interrupt the High Adjutant, but this had gone on long enough. So, he stepped past the old elvhenan to stand right before the Guardian. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Things changed rapidly at that seemingly simple motion. The tightly controlled sensation of power emanating from the Guardian now lost all its leashes, flaring out with an aura that caught everyone's attention in the vicinity.

The signs were subtle, but there all the same. Rippling air, invisible sparks of energy, all pointing to the Guardian's incredible store of magic. The last of the people leaving the arena for the day now turned back in surprise, staring silently where Guardian Nesmel, one of the strongest mages in the entirety of Rhel, was standing with his metaphorical swords drawn in front of Ryland.

"Do you have something to say?" Nesmel eventually asked after Ryland had stood an uncomfortably long time before him in silence. It was worth noting, for both Ryland and possibly quite a few other people, that the Guardian wasn't merely brushing him off or pretending that this encounter had no meaning. He was invested in this moment in time. Which meant everyone else who had caught a sign of things were paying full attention too.

"I will warn you this once," Ryland said, speaking loud and clear.

"Cease this."

"Cease what?" he asked, still feigning ignorance.

"Cease this little game. Both Arcoryx Academy and I have been lenient about the matter. But if push comes to shove, we will not hesitate to teach you a rightful lesson." Ryland's voice hardened.

"Just as I taught those students of yours." If the Guardian wanted to be pointed, then Ryland had no reason to shy away from it either. Worse, he now couldn't back away without his pride being affected by the turn of events. Ryland had more or less thrown the gauntlet at him, and refusing it would mean lowering himself from the incredible high standards that Guardians enjoyed on Rhel. But then, he surely would have foreseen something like this occurring the moment he started this silly little game.

He should have known he wasn't going to get away after pulling off that little stunt. That suggested he had planned something along these lines to occur already, which would explain why there wasn't a hint of regret on his face. A powerful Rhellian like him wouldn't be so overconfident as to think he could overcome Ryland by himself in a fair duel. He likely had something else planned.

"I sense that you've given me a challenge, sub-Academ Ryland," Guardian Nesmel said.

"Is that true?"

"I don't issue challenges," Ryland said.

"I simply eradicate that which acts as though it can stand against me." The Guardian's eyebrows rose at that near-naked threat, and several people gasped outright, but Ryland went on before they could raise a proper fuss.

"But if you were desperate, I can prove the ineffectuality of challenging me in no time at all." The Guardian tore his gaze away from Ryland to glance over at the people who were paying wide-eyed attention to their little altercation.

"You heard the fellow. It appears he's up for testing me, a Guardian of Rhel. Me, Guardian Nesmel, the greatest of the five honoured by Demiurge Mavar Val Arona himself!" Ryland didn't turn in any directions, but he could sense the shift in people's mood. Not everyone would recognize him, so they weren't even sure why a Guardian of all people was considering him worthy of challenge. Especially when he was supposed to be a mere sub-Academ.

It was that exact line of thought that the Guardian was determined to take advantage of, it seemed. They fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. The people of Rhel nodded ferociously. Who in all the Realms was this oddball who thought he could stand before someone as prestigiously honoured and powerful beyond compare as Guardian Nesmel? Was he mad? Was he so desperate for attention that he was willing to get himself killed?

"Then so be it." The Guardian turned back to Ryland, a triumphant look on his face.

"Perhaps we can embark on a friendly little contest. One where we pick a mentee from the students we have at our respective institutions and do our best to get them as far as they can in this little tournament." Ryland blinked. Now that explained why the Guardian appeared confident. He wasn't taking on Ryland directly. That would be a futile exercise. Instead, he was taking advantage of everything else to ensure he claimed victory in a very different but just as meaningful way.

Honestly, it was quite devious of him. Ryland actually had to give the fellow some props for the plan.

"As you wish," Ryland said easily.

"I will pick a student I have faith in. And when all is said and done, that student of mine will stand head and shoulders over everyone else at the entire gathering of academies you've drawn here." His immediate answer and lack of recalcitrance made the Guardian blink in suspicion, but he quickly forced his expression back to one of triumph.

"Good. Great!" The Guardian clapped his hands, and as if that had broken a spell, everyone immediately started muttering among themselves.

"I'm glad you accepted, sub-Academ. May the best academy win!" The Guardian had the audacity to offer his hand for a shake. Ryland gripped it. Surprisingly, the man did not try to crush his hand in the tightest of grips possible. It really was a simple handshake. Of course, Ryland had no reason to play his games, so he promptly chose to crush the poor Guardian's hand. Neither of them made it seem like there was anything else going on, of course.

Ryland released the Guardian's hand after a few moments, leaving a mangled mess of broken fingers pointing every which way. It was quite surprising he hadn't drawn blood. Both Yulkaviel and the guard captain behind Ryland were staring at the hand like they had just seen a ghost. Guardian Nesmel laughed. There was a soft glow of healing magic—likely an Inscription—coming to life around his disjointed fingers, healing them all back to normal.

The whole incident was far too subtle for anyone else watching from a distance to have noticed. But while the Guardian continued acting as though it had been nothing, he still looked like he'd have loved nothing better than to have crushed Ryland's hand in turn. Hmm, maybe this little competition was going to be more interesting than Ryland had at first thought.

"Sir," Viren said.

"You did what?" Ryland had been pretty open about what had happened with him and the Rhellian Guardian. Unfortunately, this appeared to be one of those unfathomable times when openness seemed to be working against him.

"Well," Ryland said after taking a deep breath.

"I'd like to preface the whole explanation with a gentle reminder that I had followed all the correct protocols and filled out all the right forms. They were well aware that I wasn't going to participate, so I—""Sir, you already went over all that," Acrypha said.

"Viren's question was rhetorical."

"Oh."

"Rhetorical out of disbelief, sir."

"Oh, yes. I see now." Viren really looked like he doubted Ryland had understood a single thing, but he was clearly attempting to be open-minded about it all. Probably since Ryland had chosen him as Ryland's representative.

"Are you sure, sir?" Viren asked.

"I wasn't even sure I or anyone else could win. Not after how they soundly beat all our graduate students…" Ah, right. Ryland really needed to go check on Sint sooner rather than later.

"Not to worry. The next set of bouts is for the first-years."

"How does that help?" Viren asked.

"Well, it means I won't really need to step in. I don't quite know how Guardian Nesmel is coaching and managing his student, but I think I've already done enough." Viren and Acrypha shared surprised looks. It was Viren who braved the question bubbling in his head.

"But sir…" He was clearly trying to phrase whatever he intended to ask without causing offence.

"You haven't actually taken any steps in preparing us or anything of the sort." Ryland just shook his head and smiled.

"Tell me, what's something in common that most first-years who came with us have?"

"They're all thirteen- or fourteen-year-olds?" Viren asked.

"Uh, not quite what I meant…"

"Oh, I know," Acrypha said, instinctively raising a hand, before flushing and pulling it down as she realized she wasn't exactly in class any longer.

"They all saw what happened to the graduate students and are determined not to perform the same."

"You're not exactly wrong, but…"

"They all liked those crumbly pastries I brought," Viren said. Both Ryland and Acrypha stared at him.

"What? It's something we have in common! Technically." Shaking her head, Acrypha just turned to Ryland.

"What exactly is it, sir?"

"Well," Ryland said, with a light, half-laugh, half-huff.

"You appear to be forgetting one crucial fact. You and a lot of your friends were all taught by me."