Mythshaper

Chapter 145 35: Arilyn of Karmel



I missed the early half of the opening ceremony, and I needed to thank Master Kaius for that. Despite being half an hour late, the announcer was still going strong, praising the prefectus and all the other sponsors, while revealing little about what to expect from the competition this year.

While the competition largely remained the same most years, they tried to revise some rules to make it more interesting, or simply to avoid relying on prior years' regulations. The changes were more evident in categories such as Strength, Endurance, Agility, and Crafting, and less so in Duels and Fencing.

The opening day was designated mostly to duels, as it was the category that drew the most attention, as evidenced by the packing crowds in the stands. It was already half full, with folks still coming in large numbers. My parents and others were among them, seated in the stand left of the high stage where all the privileged people sat. For the high nobles and high class awakened who were not as important as those on the high stage, there was a special seating arrangement.

I waved one palm, while my other hand rested on the pommel of my new sword, channelling a faint wisp of aura into it.

After delivering me the blade, Master Kaius had asked me to nourish it with my aura whenever I could. I had not put much into it so far, as I would clearly need more aura in the duels. There was also another thing he had asked of me, which might be a little arduous to achieve.

As my thoughts wandered, someone tapped my shoulder.

"Oi," I turned to find Paximus. The golden spear, Mum and I reforged for him, in his grasp. He did not say much when he came to recive it, but at least he did not make a ruckus. "Fancy dress up. Are you sure you came to the right section? The crafting competition is meant to begin tomorrow."

I examined the youth. He was dressed in a similar fashion, save for the cape, and was much more obtuse compared to my white clad getup. I guessed I did look like I was in for some stage play, or attending some high-class hunting game. Thinking on that, I swiftly channelled my threads, and soon the white-clad clothing changed into a black swathe.

Mum probably would not like it, but I preferred not to look like a pretentious fool among my peers.

"Better?" I asked.

Paximus whistled. "I don't prefer capes, but I see an appeal. Make sure not to let anyone grab it in a duel if that's what you are here for."

"I don't give a vibe of a fighter, do I?"

The youth peered at me and decided to be honest. "Look around you. I don't know if you can perceive their aura, but everyone here has a year or two on you, me included."

That really was the case. The hundred-odd youths standing haphazardly were all older than I was. Only a few I beat in height, and there was no shortage of fellows twice my bulk, many brimming with unrestrained aura. Only a handful of them kept their aura in check, including both Paximus and me.

Either way, it looked like I had some exciting fights scheduled ahead of me. Perhaps they would be enough to push me into the realm of Master Swordsman.

"Well, you can have another go next year," Paximus said, taking my silence for compliance.

Hmm, now that I think of it, perhaps I can join other categories next year. Well, assuming I could actually win in the two this year.

"Hmm, did you join last year?" I asked.

"I did," he said, scrunching his nose. "My performance had been. . . abysmal, to say the least. I barely got through the elimination day."

I wanted to learn more, but it was about time the speaker finally drew his speech to an end. A total of eight referees came to hand us our badges while informing us of the important matters.

Each badge had our name imprinted on it, along with the group name and a contestant number, all etched with a neat rune script protecting it from any alteration. I was in Group C, numbered 188.

"Looks like they haven't changed much from last year," Paximus mumbled, latching the badge onto his belt. Then he patted my shoulder. "Make sure not to get eliminated today."

With that, he walked off towards the far rear duelling ring under the lead of the referee of his group.

"You too," I returned, and shook my head before deciding to move my way. Yet I had barely taken a couple of steps when two youths crossed into my path. One was short and emaciated, the other robust with a wooden look. If not for the amiable gaze the short youth was shooting me, and the emblem of the Order of Iron Knights on their chests, I would have thought they were here for some ulterior motives.

"Good day, brother," said the short youth, waving his palm in a salute. "I didn't think I'd see Pax acting amiable for more than two seconds with someone."

"I don't think he was that amiable," I mumbled. But the way the short youth said it, it seemed Paximus had some history. Well, my first impression of him was nothing short of thinking him scatterbrained. "Is he famous here?"

"He's famous for making havoc," the taller one snorted. "That's all the runt is good at."

"Don't mind him, Kelvin is still sore for losing to him a couple of months ago." The short fellow introduced himself as Casius, a squire to the Iron Knights. He was also at the peak of Noble Class, and one of the few who had a firm command of their aura, unlike the taller Kelvin.

"Arilyn," I introduced myself, rubbing the pommel of my blade. "I guess you can tell I'm a bit of a country bumkin."

"Hmm, not at all," Casius said. "And to answer your question, yes, Pax is one of the more famous Noble Class augmenters in Klearon. Or it should be infamous, I should say. Well, that is a story for another time. We are going to take a look at all the weapons Dragonforge is sponsoring. Want to join us?"

I did not think much before following after them. Although the duels would begin soon, there were merely eight duelling rings with over three hundred candidates. I decidedly had a long day ahead of me. Why not take a look at the fabricators Dragonforge was providing for contestants who could not afford one, even if I did not fancy any? I could glimpse their strengths and weaknesses if it came to be useful later.

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There were already dozens of contestants lined up at the gazebo with the Dragonforge emblem on the lower flank of the stands. Many kinds of weapons, mainly swords, lances, spears, and protective wards, were numbered and piled up, with six attendants serving the bustling crowd. By the look of it, even the lowest quality ones seemed military grade. Even those with a good set of equipment came to borrow a piece or two if they saw fit.

"Dragonforge is truly going overboard this year," Kelvin said. "Perhaps this will help lead to more peasants in the upper ranks this year."

"Mhm, not by much," muttered Casius. "It takes a good while to get used to new equipment, but I do see it helping some."

For all the prior years, nobody cared whether the people competing had functioning fabricators or not. This led to those with a well off background having an upper hand over those without one. Dragonforge's support could rectify that a little, but as Casius claimed, it did take a good while to get used to a change in equipment. Thankfully, the competition would go on for a week.

"Compared to all these," Casius added, "I'm drooling over the equipment they'll offer to the top eight."

It seemed Dragonforge was doing its utmost to light a fire under their dwindling market share, which was being constantly devoured by Anvil. Not only were they offering Prestigious Class equipment to the top eight duelists, but the finalists would get to commission a piece of equipment from one of their best Master Artisans. That was ignoring all the other sponsorships they were offering in the other categories.

After a bit of exchange, I excused myself to a lone corner of the field to practise swordsmanship. Much like the loaned weapons, I would need to familiarise myself with the new blade as well. Its length and reach were identical to the long sabre I was used to. It was only its lightweight that felt unfamiliar.

Slowly and carefully, I performed all the kata one by one, the blade flowing through the breeze, sometimes slicing it, and a few times keening at the application of aura. Master Kaius had said I could increase the weight of the blade if I saw fit. Certainly, he was not hinting for me to reforge it, or there would be no implication in him giving it to me. I could forge something fine with enough effort.

The crux of the matter was that the blade was too ordinary. Perhaps that was meant to be. Perhaps it was the swordsman. The badge on my waist vibrated, cutting my thoughts.

"Contestant number 188, Arilyn Arcis O'Ryon, please move third ring."

Immediately, I rested my training and shot off in the other direction, where my opponent was already standing on the stage. I was so enamoured with practising and ruminating that I did not even hear my opponent's name.

Thankfully, she introduced herself, as if it was custom. "Ikana Hecor, of Evvnor."

She set her protective ward on and saluted with her bare blade. I followed suit, imitating her.

"Arilyn of Karmel."

The referee asked if both of us were informed of the rules and blew the whistle.

Instantly, Ikana shot at me in a blur, her sword swinging in a high arc. A red string flung from her blade and shot at my left shoulder.

With aura imbued to my maximum capability, I took half a step and parried. Half a dozen lapses in her defence immediately became evident to my Swordsense, and I did not waver. The Resonance of Sharpness sang in a buzz, the blade hurling into the motion of Whispering Gale to plunge towards her calf.

A look of panic streaked across the young woman's face, but before she could even take half a step back, the unnamed blade made contact with her ward, shattering it in the process.

The Sharp aura was still mounting strong, enough to inflict a severe wound that might render her unavailable for the rest of the tournament.

I receded my aura, even though the blade had already bitten into the leather. The girl swiftly withdrew.

"Three points to contestant number 188," the referee called.

The rules of the elimination round differed from actual duels, where only surrender or incapability of fighting were the only rules. If all duels were to be staged as such, they would need two weeks instead of one to wrap up the competition. To remedy that, the duelists in the elimination round only needed to earn six points to claim victory. One point for the limbs, two points for anywhere severe, and three for shattering the protective wards.

Ikana had withdrawn over twenty paces, but her expression was still ashen, the ward unable to wrap her completely. She slapped the device latched to her waist, only for it to malfunction further.

"Problem with your ward?" I asked, still heavy in my stance.

She glowered at me, bit her lip, and a heavy sigh escaped her. "I concede."

"Contestant number 188 triumphs."

There was a round of cheers and wild noises from the crowd. I did not know if they were for me, as there were eight stages of duels happening simultaneously, and the audience had been at it for some while now. More than that, I was dumbfounded by her surrender. Was it because I broke her ward?

Crestfallen, she left the stage with her head bowed before I could even ask anything.

"Step off," the referee said.

I obliged, as a sense of guilt wailed inside me. Maybe I should help her fix it. Even though she could borrow something better from Dragonforge, that worn-out ward was probably her own and would cost a few Golden Leafs at the very least to repair. Not to mention, she would be unable to compete for a day or two without a connection to an artisan.

Thinking on that, I approached her. She was already on her way to line up before Dragonforge's stand, the busted ward clasped in her palm, while another girl was consoling her.

"If you want to gloat over your victory," said the other girl, noticing my approach, "bugger off."

For a moment, I did consider doing exactly that, but steeled myself through the creeping embarrassment.

"Sorry for breaking your ward," I said.

Both of them studied my face, and perhaps noticing my earnestness, Ikana nodded. "It's no matter," she said. "I have had it for a while without repair."

"That's why I told you to loan whatever they are giving you," her friend said.

"Well, I'm doing that now," she sniffed.

That would be for the best, since the quality of her ward was of the lowest standard, for it had not even obstructed a single blow.

"If you like, I can help you repair that."

She spared me another look. "That won't be necessary. Thank you."

They did not seem to be in the mood for small talk, as their turn was coming up. I left it at that.

Once again, I retreated to the open space allowed for contestants that did not hinder the audience from viewing the battles.

The first and third days were set as the elimination rounds for the duels, where over three hundred contestants would battle it out for sixty-four spots in the second round. It was going to be quite cutthroat.

My name was called soon enough. This time, my duel was against a bulky fellow named Elais, who had a robust physique type gift. I could not break his ward as easily as I had in my first bout, but the duel ended within a few moves. Swordsense helped me evade all his attacks and find lapses in his movements to jam a couple of blows in quick succession. Unlike Ikana, however, Elais was not ready to admit defeat. Even after the referee called it, he was unconvinced. But this was no place to make a scene.

Honestly, both duels had been so short that I failed to gauge either of their strengths. They were certainly clumsy in the department of aura, despite one having a stronger physique and the other being more agile.

The third and fourth duels failed to be challenging as well. The third contestant, a girl with a whip, had an interesting fighting style, with agility as her forte. It was only her bad luck that she came across someone with Swordsense. The fourth contestant, on the other hand, admitted defeat without even battling.

I did not see him as being any worse than my other opponents. But then again, none of them had managed to wound me in any form. He wisely forfeited to save his strength for duels he could win.

I guessed the chances of my meeting any tough opponent in the elimination round were low. Although after noting the scoreboard, I found there were plenty of names that had not met any defeat yet.

The lunch break was called, and I ate a couple of bananas and drank orange juice, not feeling particularly hungry. Meanwhile, half of the contestants meditated. I truly felt at a loss, having no friends among them. I did note Casius and Kelvin chatting with other members of their order, but could not bring myself to interject. After remaining awkwardly in one corner, I too descended into a meditative pose until my name was called.

It was another girl again. But on this occasion, it was someone with a staff, a shaper of high wind affinity. My interest and arcane acuity piqued as I sauntered onto the stage.

This was going to be more interesting. Now the question was, could I win without using my essence?

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