Aetherios System: Whirlwind

Chapter 27 – Festival of Steel

From the Xhiu family’s pavilion tent, Alex could see it all.

An enormous coliseum at the city’s heart loomed like a skyscraper of carved obsidian, its upper rings glowing faintly from the barrier runes etched into the stone. Aether-fed braziers lined the streets, their flames shifting between colors of emerald, silver, crimson, azure, gold, and violet, representing the six elemental affinities.

The Imperial Coliseum was much large than the privately owned one where Alex and the others had been performing beast fights for merit points. It larger by four times, than half again, and a dozen times taller.

Everyone knew it only ever opened for large events. The anniversary of the Empire’s founding, the birthday of the Empire or Empress, or the rare royal wedding. But never for just a simple occasion or event.

But now, it was opened to the public.

All around the structure caravans of beast tamers marched chained creatures through the thoroughfares. One cart carried a massive scaled tiger with crystalline fur, while another bore a serpentine avian bound in anti-magic shackles that Alex could have sworn was an Akhekh. They beasts were paraded about as trophies, proof of the continent’s strength and prestige.

Across the plazas, sparring circles had been marked with chalk and rune, each surrounded by impromptu roaring crowds. Mortal tier mages clashed, exchanging streaks of lightning and shards of stone. The stomping feet of the gather onlookers was powerful enough that it rattled banners loose from their poles.

“Gods…” Garret muttered beside Alex, leaning over the railing. “Are we sure we’re in the right place? These people seem almost feral.”

Devon gave a shaky laugh. “I guess people are mostly the same no matter where you go. Give them enough booze and reason, they will all start yelling and fighting for sport.”

“Who cares about the little warm up fight pits?” Lance shook his head and pointed off to the tents that lined one of the off streets, where many crafters and skill-mages were showing off their trade. “Did you see the mage who was shaping metal with aether-strings?”

Alex did. And he couldn’t stop watching the guy as he worked.

The mage in question, apparently some smithing prodigy from the Iron Vault Sect, was literally sculpting his custom works from liquid steel, every movement of his hands was controlling strings of aether attached to globs of the material. His movements contorted the metal, folding and reforging it within seconds. His partner, a woman with emerald eyes and a halo of floating sigils at her back, pounded the metal into a condensed form, each blow made with telekinetic blasts of energy.

Every action was a masterclass of aether manipulation.

And they were only one of such displays that were going on. It showed Alex that the use of skills was just as complicated as spells and combat. He had been thinking about his [Glyphcraft] and Garret’s [Smithing] all wrong. There was far more to learn from them than he had realized.

“I told you,” Obby teased in his mind.

Shut up. I’m still taking you lessons at night, don’t be getting greedy on me you little pebble.

Obby mentally huffed at him but said nothing.

For the first few hours before things truly kicked off, the Worldstriders walked the festival streets, surrounded by noise battles and crafts, and the scents of food vendors—cooked meats, spiced smoke, sweet alcohol.

The stall owners shouted and hawked their goods in multiple languages. Priestesses chanted blessings for good fortune in exchange for donations at pop-up shrines. And many off-site bookies set up stalls to take bets for the tournament.

But, the worldstriders weren’t the only ones who walked the streets.

Every Adept they passed radiated power. Some wore sect insignias that Alex didn’t recognize—phoenix emblems, crescent sigils, serpents biting their own tails, but most had ones that he did know from his research into the other contenders. Even still, others wore none at all.

One group of white-robed mages walked in perfect formation, with a single figure at the lead. They all had face coverings, hiding their appearance, but everyone easily knew where they came from. The attire of the Serakhan Imperium.

Meaning the lead figure was one of the contenders that had been in the top ten for merit points; Shava Yaldeerin.

Alex hadn’t been able to find out much about her, or her spells, abilities or otherwise. But she was a fierce fighter, he was certain of that.

“They’re all our competition,” Kate murmured beside him. Her tone was equal parts awe and trepidation. “Every one of them.”

“Yeah,” Zach said quietly. “And every one of them could kill us.”

Alex had no doubt about that last part.

The tournament fights were supposed to simply be until ring out, forfeit, or until a referee delcared one side unable to keep fighting. Should it look like once side was about to kill the other, the referee would step in to stop the fight.

But in the real world, where fights could come down to only fractions of a second, even between Adept Tier mages. Well, “accidents happen” as the saying goes. And sometimes, accidents were far more likely when there was stakes on the line. Such as a the inheritance of an Aegis Tier mage.

As the day finally hit noon, the pre-festival hype had reached its peak.

The Empire hosted a public display in the central plaza, an opening ceremony of sorts. Crowds packed every street, music rolled up and down the area from multiple directions, and the Empress’s sigil burned across the sky in radiant azure flames.

Stolen novel; please report.

Fire dancers performed beneath the glow. Above them, enchanted beasts took flight in choreographed patterns, containing riders upon flaming hawks, winged serpents, and clouds shaped like roaring lions.

And when the final burst of mana-light illuminated the arena’s spire, it signaled the start. The Festival had begun.

***

The team returned to their quarters to quickly prepare for the first public event. The cheers of the crowd echoed even from afar, a constant reminder of the world watching them.

Alex sat on the edge of his chair, fingers tracing the seam of his bracer. His reflection in the polished steel looked different tonight. At that moment he looked older, and far harder than his normal appearance.

He’d seen what they were up against himself. Shava Yaldeerin was only one of the world’s legend level Adept mages, one of its true top-tier prodigies. There would be a dozen of such fighters that they had to contend with. How many of them had mastered a dozen Novice grade spells?

How many had begun forming, or even mastered a [Technique]?

Excitement warred with dread in his chest, a storm of anticipation and fear for what was to come.

Because for all the pageantry, the lights, and the music, he knew the truth beneath it all. This was something he craved. Like Henry with his garden, or Devon with his workshop, the feeling of fighting against strong opponents and being pushed far beyond his limit, that was his obsession, his oasis.

Lady Xhiu finally came to gather them all and lead them out through the coliseum tunnels and into the open arena. There, large stages had been built, and groups were already lining up according to some predetermined arrangement.

Above and all around them, tens of thousands filled the stands of the structure. Civilians, farmers, craftsmen, traders, Nobles in embroidered silks, sect masters in ceremonial armor, foreign ambassadors draped in their nations’ colors; all were in attendance. The crowd’s roar rolled like an ocean of power, excitement, and hunger.

Even before the first contest began, it was clear this was no mere tournament. The Empire was creating a spectacle.

Nearly a thousand Adepts stood shoulder-to-shoulder with their handlers. Each radiated power to varying degrees, but Alex felt no one who wasn’t a Solid Stage Adept.

Garret whistled. “Feels like standing in front of a herd of Tyrannosaurus Rex’s.”

“Feels like standing in a hurricane of rex’s” Allie muttered, shielding her eyes from the glare of the overhead wards.

“Hehe, Rex-nado,” Garret chuckled.

Alex didn’t answer. His heart was beating too fast for words. He looked across the sea of competitors. Every one of them was dangerous. Every one of them wanted the same thing.

Power, and a place in history.

The noise of the crowd dimmed all at once, and from her raised dais above the arena’s first row of stands, Empress Yue stepped forward. Her robes were, as before, woven with living blue and silver light; her crown shimmered with pure sapphires.

“Children of Dawnlight. Citizens of Urhara, Adepts of heaven’s chosen.” Her tone was regal, but there was a gentleness along with it. “Today begins the Festival of Steel—the proving ground of those who would stand among the pillars of our Empire. In this arena, we separate the bold from the reckless, the strong from the merely ambitious. Those who are sparks of power, and those who are truly Heaven’s chosen.”

Her gaze swept across the competitors.

“A thousand of you stand here. By day’s end, that number will be halved. Those who remain shall move on to the true battles, those who do not shall return to their homes wiser, if not stronger.”

A ripple of murmurs moved through the ranks, but otherwise they stayed quiet.

“Your strength,” she continued, “is more than your spells or your bodies. It is the sum of your will, your understanding, your potential. The Empire will see it. The world will remember it. Prove yourselves and carve your names into the annals of history.”

She lifted her hand, and light cascaded from her palm in five radiant beams that arced outward into the arena and into the five platforms that had been erected in the space, lighting up the tall black stone obelisks that had been placed at the center of each.

“Let the Judging begin.”

The sound of marching boots echoed from the edges of the courtyard asImperial Magi advanced to stand next to the obelisks. There were five of them, each radiating enough power to be Magus-tier, or at least the very peak of Adept. Each held up a hand and placed them on the stone structures before nodding to the arranged ranks of mages who stood before the stage.

The first competitors stepped forward.

The Imperial Mage raised their other hand to the approaching competitor and motioned for them to come forward. Alex watched as each of them touched a hand against the back of their necks, where theEssence Gate was located and then touched their other hand to the stone pillar.

Aether transferred in a smooth pulse, a bright light connecting person and the large aether device.

Above them, a translucent screen shimmered into being on the stone.

Core Attunement: Adept (96.6%) - Earth Attunement

Highest Attribute: 21

Highest Skill Rank: Novice

Highest Spell Rank: Novice

Martial Tier: Tier II

Constitution: None

The crowd murmured at the results. The Magus nodded curtly to the Adept before waving them aside, and sending the next forward.

Dozens followed, one after another, their stats flashing across the large obelisks in enormous glowing panels. Each set of numbers drew either gasps or murmurs from the audience. Most were around the same, getting similar results as each other for the most part.

Then came the prodigies.

Delg Glanhig was the competitor from the Adamant Empire, and thus, he was a dwarf. But he approached the obelisk with a head held high, and with a confidence that was more than earned.

Core Attunement: Adept (99.6%) - Earth, Fire Attunement

Highest Attribute: 26

Highest Skill Rank: Intermediate

Highest Spell Rank: Novice

Martial Tier: Tier III

Constitution: F-Grade

Ninety-nine percent, Alex thought. And a tier three martial style. He even has a constitution on top of that. Damn, he’s not going to be easy.

“You thought this would be easy?” Obby snickered.

No. Quiet, it’s still going.

More mages went up to be scanned. With five stages going at once, it went rather quickly, and even more big players went up to be scanned. The mage from the Serakhan Imperium, for one. As well of a robed monk-like figure from the Zianzhou Dominion. The Asheria Ascendancy even had some one in the running. And they all had amazing results that were similar, if not better than anyone on Alex’s team, and each of them were above the average.

Even Ghrukk, the hulking orc, earned a murmur of awe from his high strength base at a thirty. Doran’s screen displayed his mastery of his skills, showing “advanced” due to his [Smithing]. Kate’s Martial style had even surprised Alex, showing tier four.

Each revelation stoked the fire of the crowd higher.

Alex, watching from his place in line, couldn’t help but smirk.

What the obelisk showed was a “limited scan”, sure, but every major faction there had spies. By now, every one of these numbers was already being cross-referenced, analyzed, and traded in backroom deals before the matches even started.

“It’s all half for show, and half for business,” he muttered under his breath.

Devon, standing just in front of him, nodded without looking up. “Yeah. The last bit is just for intimidation.”

The line dwindled. One after another, the Adepts stepped forward, had their cores touched by the obelisk, and their lives were summarized in six, neat little lines of light.

Then, finally, Alex’s turn came.

He stepped forward under the gaze of thousands. The noise of the arena faded to a dull hum in his ears. He could feel the faint beat of his heart in his chest as he felt a nervous sort of anticipation. He stared up at the stone plinth, the towering twenty feet of black stone, shot through with azure lines like lightning.

The Imperial Magus before him inclined his head. “Step closer, Adept.”

Alex did. Then he touched his aether gate at the nape of his neck with his left hand, and touched the obelisk with his right. A warm sensation bloomed through his Essence Gate, crawling upward into his spine.

The crystal flashed.

And above him—

The translucent screen shimmered to life.