Chương 254: Chapter 251 - Judgment

Ryan spent the rest of the night thoroughly researching the kingdom and its history. The more he looked, the more he was convinced that Valmere was flawed. He had once asked the question of Theskar and he never got his answer. How does a civilization safeguard against tyrants? Especially when the damage that an individual could do rapidly outpaced society? It seemed to be how it all eventually ended. What would happen if Agrinth decided to purge all the ninth realms and took control over the kingdom?

From what Ryan could tell, it surely could happen. In fact, there was more support for him than the entirety of the meritocracy plus democracy council thing they had going on here. Agrinth simply refused to take a council seat and stuck to being in charge of the Adventurer's Guild. Was that the answer? Make your most powerful become guardians? Paragons that nobody else could ever hope to reach? Make sure they didn't have children to lose their minds over?

Surely these weren't the solutions that King Theskar wanted him to find. His right arm started to tingle. So, it was up to him to prove Agrinth wrong. To prove that Valmere in its current iteration wasn't a kingdom that could last. The cracks were already there, waiting to be pried wide open. —— Ryan did not do anything immediately. He needed more information first, to understand more of how the people of the Kingdom of Valmere thought and…

"Where do you think you're going?" He had waltzed into Fetterue's private workshop, grabbed the black robes and was about to leave when the Grand Mage had caught him.

"I'm a little busy, Fetterue. I have an argument to win with an ex-brat turned hero of a kingdom." She just scoffed.

"What did we talk about? There will always be a pressing matter in a kingdom. We still aren't finished here." When it was clear that Ryan was not ready to sit down and learn she clicked her tongue.

"What is the weakness of aura?"

"What?" Ryan blinked at the random question. He had been expecting a lecture, not a question about aura.

"What is the weakness of your aura? Or are you trying to tell me there's no weaknesses to your aura?" Ryan decided to play along.

"Well for me, the problem is that I'm not always going to be surrounded by enemies. I stopped relying on it too much because I know there's going to be situations where it's useless." Fetterue nodded. Then she produced a small box from her pocket and opened it. A glittering red crystal shone in the morning light as it started to spread his aura around. Ryan frowned at his own crystallized aura in her hand. She smiled.

"A battery." Ryan blinked.

"Wait, you're saying…"

"Yes, think about it, this is a crystallization of your aura that has lasted for a century. Yes, they leak if not contained properly, but I am almost certain that you could form these when you have an excess and siphon them when you're not in a favorable scenario." Thereby negating the weakness of aura. Ryan reached out and she snapped it back into the container.

"That is not the only finding I have discovered. Given the right conditions… These aura crystals can grow. You can embed them into the walls creating a sort of fear enchantment that's incredibly difficult to deplete. Constant exposure, also improves mental resistances up to a certain amount. Would you like to see the result of those papers?" Ryan crossed his arms.

"Is bribing someone that doesn't want to learn with more research really the most appropriate method?" Fetterue turned around and marched back into her workshop. When she opened the large doors she called back out to him.

"I promise you that those custom volatile knives are no less valuable. Come, let's set up a curriculum first, then you'll get the first of your bribes."

"Well, when you put it like that, I do need to shore up my fundamentals after all." It was well before dawn and most of the researchers were still there. Plenty of them had gone through the previous day's events and written down their analysis and hypotheticals and placed it on Ryan's own table in a neat ordered manner. He switched his class to [Conceptual Neophyte] to start his day. Thoughts on concepts and their relation to the magical firmament.

Master smiths that create works with no known energy source but are structurally impossible. Imbuing concepts? … Ryan used his own intuition and best guess to make comments on the researchers notes. He used a number to denote how certain he was about certain hunches compared to others. As unscientific as it was, it was better than nothing. And it did help him get into the flow of things.

Once it became painfully clear just how much work people had put in overnight, Ryan became far more motivated to stick around and work. Even if he himself wasn't gaining as much benefit from this as he would have liked. When he got through the papers, Fetterue was there immediately, jumping into a more hands-on lesson of practical enchantments.

They made strides once again, figuring out that [Spellweave Perception] worked better with spells that were woven in real time rather than permanent enchantments that had been established long ago. It was in the name and none of them realized until now.

"Do you have any other abilities you'd like to explore?" Ryan told her of the description and name of the"[Manabane Strike]? What does Manabane mean?"

"It's part of the anti-magic category of skills. It's arguably the most efficient anti-magic category."

"Show me." Fetterue put up a barrier and Ryan used his skill. [Manabane Strike] The barrier died on contact. It did not shatter, simply the segmented part of her barrier vanished on impact as the Epic activation touched it. Fetterue's eyes went wide as she moved back, staring at the blade like it might contain a plague.

"What was that?"

"A [Manabane Strike]?" Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It was the most startled Ryan had ever seen from her since… well the last Trial. Fetterue shook her head.

"There is no such thing as manabane in our history. Dwarves have come up with material that counteract mana and interrupt it, but they all use material imbued with magic or qi. That did not use mana."

"Yeah, because it's a [Manabane Strike]."" I will throttle you." Ryan scratched his neck, trying to remember what he'd read online.

"I don't really understand it myself. There's a hierarchy of antimagic skills that people have put up. [Manabane] apparently is just something that counters mana so thoroughly that it destroys everything unless it's enchanted with high realm gear. It's considered a higher order because something basic like 'strike' is still considered an Epic when combined with the 'manabane' description."

"But what energy source is it using?"

"I uh, none? I think it's derived from one of those skills that masters of their weapon use, like how a [Swordmaster] can cut through magic or even skills. Surely Valmere has some of those." While it made sense to Ryan, Fetterue just rubbed her head.

"We do have some that are capable of weaving through magic with just a blade but this…"

"I mean, it is an Epic." The glare he got in return was perhaps a little bit too satisfying. Fetterue quickly masked her irritation and sighed.

"I think I'm going to need a list of all your skills and their descriptions. This… changes things." That of course, caused another uproar. All of which took time to clarify and explain further. Then, all of the researchers really went into a fervor he'd never seen before. —— Another day had gone by, and again, there were no levels. Ryan sat on the roof as the sun set. He was idly playing with the orb designed for his volatile mana.

His control over his volatile mana had improved ever so slightly and that alone should have been a cause for celebration. Still, no levels. He could see the foundation that was being built here. If Valmere still existed in his next Trial, then they would have had decades to come up with and understand his skillset. When he talked about synergies, weaknesses and skill builds, everyone went crazy. Even Fetterue couldn't help herself but barrage him with questions.

Then they started coming up with theories and comparisons he wasn't comfortable with. They came up with an idea of a 'firmament of skills'. That whenever an adventurer activated a skill, they were doing something similar to what a [Mage] did when they learned a new spell that had already existed before. Man they were nerds. Then they started doing the same thing everyone did when they were in school.

When there was that hope that you might be called as a Destined, or you were still hopeful that you might get a sponsorship. They started to come up with skill builds on their own. Except these guys were doing it just for the love of knowledge. They were all so excited to push this avenue into practicality. To see if they could use this and implement it for themselves. Ryan didn't have the heart to tell them that this was all a facade.

That all of their efforts were a waste because they were just imprints from a long dead civilization from long ago. What a waste. Some part of him marveled at the creation. Ryan could see the cold logic. Billions of lives and tens of kingdoms kept on ice as the base of their system. Then use another world as the test subject to further refine the process before implementing it for yourselves.

The real question was, did they create the Trial System because they were desperate or because they wanted to crush the competition? And did they make another? Ryan shook his head. His mind had gone to thinking about such a large concept because he was frustrated at his own lack of progress. It was like a constant reminder in his head. It distracted him, made him want to stop wasting his time with all of this—Ryan's mind came to a screeching halt. It's not a waste. I'm finally building a foundation. I need this.

Fetterue's updating the spell list curriculum in real time. She's assessing my skills and if she's alive in the next Trial she'll have insights I might never figure out on my own. It just feels too slow. Everyone always said that if they were an adventurer and they had levels, they'd work their asses off and practice 24/7. That marks of progresses that nearly never declined meant they'd be motivated to give it a 110% They didn't think about the intensity of the other side.

It wasn't just about jumping from one disaster to another, every single adventurer felt the pressure to push. You compared yourself with others, you compared your levels with your team, you compared your learned skill slots with others and always looked ahead at the teams that were doing better, advancing faster with better levels and better skills. And those that did do well always shared their levels and skill lists. After all, good progress meant more popularity and more sponsorships. And if you fell behind?

You could drag your entire time down with your lack of progress, or in Mudriff's case, lose his team entirely because they couldn't wait years for one person. It was a toxic cycle that often ended up with adventurers dead or completely burned out, retiring because they'd lost their passion. Keep pushing or fall behind. And Ryan finally saw the little trap baked into the Trial System.

The timer left until the Highest Trial ended, the higher amount of levels needed for higher rarity skills, the achievements and the grading system. All of it by design. Created to push. Taking advantage of people's nature to compare themselves and do better. When he realized it, he sat up and removed the class crystal around his arm. He felt the loss of the [Conceptual Neophyte] as it slowly faded into the background and he felt his mind quieten.

He gently dropped the magical training device and took a breath and focused on it and it alone. Ryan meditated. No [Conceptual Meditation], no deep thinking about all the events and plotting, just that thing the elders of the Obsidian Sect tried to teach him and had given up. Mindfulness. Above the bustling capital of Valmere, a little away from the sure-fire disaster that was brewing on Earth and in The Realm, under the watchful gaze of the Manager that was desperately charting the future.

Ryan took some time for himself. In, and out. It was just a little boring. In, and out. But it was nice. … Just a little rebellion against the creators of the Trial System. For now, that would do. … An hour later, as if in perfect timing, his phone vibrated. Agrinth: Feel free to do as you wish. If Valmere is as brittle enough for you to shatter it with words alone then it deserves to be remade. Ryan smiled at the arrogance. I'll make you regret that. He had a full day to plot and the stage had been set.

It also felt like he had grabbed the fog that surrounded his head and pulled it away. His right arm tingled. Levels or not, this would not be a waste of time. The question mattered. The broken [Aura Tyrant] would not be satisfied with anything less than a true answer. After all, he didn't just want to survive, but to win. —— Councilmember Honorus was one of the more upstanding members of the council of Valmere. That was of course, his own opinion.

He would arrive at the great palace steps before dawn to make his way up those cursed stairs. He would of course, as an upstanding member of the council, never look like he was out of breath walking up those steps. It was considered a minimum level of fitness required to be serving on the council. Even if they passed on perfectly capable councilmembers because they didn't meet the damned fitness standards.

But well, the shining palace was considered one the major symbols of Valmere and that meant going up nearly a hundred flights of stairs every morning. Except today, there was a crowd gathering near he top. He frowned as he made his way up. Perhaps its councilmember Devene making a commotion again. Honorus shook his head. It wouldn't be the first time the blasted dwarf made a declaration using the sacred palace as a backdrop. As he slowed and made sure his breathing was kept stable for the reporters, he frowned.

There was an awful amount of people there for a simple declaration. Honorus' frown deepened as he recognized multiple robed members of the council as just part of the crowd. Strange, is it another pro-monarchist activist? He pushed his way forward, slightly less polite than he normally was. He had to see what was going on. As he cleared the first group and pushed his way to the front, he blinked as a primal fear held his chest.

A silver haired elf in sleek black robes was lounging at the top of the stairs of the royal palace. He was scrolling through a phone with one hand and flipping an adventurer's badge in the air. A golden token of authority and trust reflected the morning sun and caught their attention. Honorus recognized the elf immediately. How could he not? The elf that had torn a bloody path throughout the Kingdom a century ago was currently all over the news. Artigan.

Councilmember Devene stepped up once again, the dwarf fearless despite the aura of fear washing over them.

"We told you to move out of the way, elf." Oh god. Honorus couldn't run, if he did, he'd lose all of his standing with the rest. Now that he saw, there were reporters here, people recording from multiple angles. Where were the adventurers? He looked around until he spotted an adventurer flying high in the air. They were facing Artigan but they clearly weren't willing or capable of apprehending this monster. Besides, if there was a fight, everyone in the crowd would get slaughtered anyway.

When Devene tried to walk past the elf, he looked up and glared at the dwarf. It seemed as if the dwarf didn't have a complete leave of his senses because he didn't dare push further. After a couple more seconds of silence, Artigan stopped flipping the badge and put the phone away. A natural action, like he had been using one of those his entire life. It was just such a weird action that Honorus blinked. Hadn't he just gotten a phone two days ago?

Artigan stopped lounging and sat on the steps, his legs somewhat spread, looking down on all of them. An oppressive, arrogant aura descended on them now that his full focus was on them. It was like ash, blood and metal in the air. A path walked in blood. The only person Honorus had felt this level of presence from was their great hero, Agrinth. Oh god, he's an ascendant. Artigan's voice spread throughout the city.

"Ninety-seven years ago, I promised to return and give judgment on the Kingdom of Valmere. I have finally returned." Artigan paused for effect and spread his arms. Like this crowd had gathered for him. As if his opinion was the only thing that mattered. He gave a genial smile to the councilmembers and the crowd below—no, to the entire city.

"You all pass. The Kingdom of Valmere is exactly as I had envisioned all those years ago."