Chapter 32: Hammed
There were six of them. Four boys and two girls. All wearing the same blue trainee outfit, bearing swords and shields. A couple of them had wands, whom Ember recognised from the mana classes, though he wouldn't say he knew them quite well enough for them to ambush him like that.
“I heard your swordsmanship is as remarkable as your mana skills,” said the leading fellow. “So we came to exchange some moves, and see how remarkable you are to get such privileges from the clan.”
Ember spared him a look. If he remembered correctly, his name was Ham. Not even among the top ten in mana foundation of the younger generation, though he always seemed to move around with his flock of punks, flaunting their power over anyone weak.
That made him wonder who gave him the confidence to come after him. Well, Ember hadn’t been actively sparring with anybody after reaching Tier 4. That might be it.
Still, he had little interest in sparring with him, so he returned to the parchment in his hand, glaring at the calculation with mad intensity. “Sorry. Not interested.”
Even a fool could tell the boy and his crew of hoodlums came with no good intentions. But of course, Ember gave them too little credit. If they really were up to no good, they certainly wouldn't be dissuaded by his good-natured disinterest.
“That’s fine then,” a girl said from the side as she came forward. “We will wait till you become interested.”
She lurched to snatch the parchment from his hand. “Look at what this is,” the girl said. “This little goblin twerp thinks he can reach Tier 7.”
“Not just Tier 7, Pixie,” Ham laughed. “There is a calculation for Tier 8 and even going for Tier 9. May Zion have mercy on our souls.”