B3 | Chapter 69 – Teasing
General POV
Everyone knew the results of Julius vs Darius would be surprising, but no one had imagined the difference in skill would be that much.
The Chronicle's evening edition once again sold out within an hour, and by morning, the street value of a copy had tripled. News criers were practically hoarse, shouting headlines that grew more sensational with each telling.
The official broadcast had been much more successful, with every tavern and common room packed to the gills. And when the fight ended, there was only silence. After all, why wouldn't there be silence? Julius was... shocking.
The silence as expected didn't last long.
Within minutes of Julius Ravencroft's victory, the capital erupted into pandemonium that made the previous uproar over the Beast Kings look quaint by comparison.
"Did you see that?!"
It wouldn't be far-fetched to say that that was the sentence on pretty much everyone's lips in every tavern, every street corner.
"He just—he just copied Darius's skill!"
"No no you're missing the point. He didn't just copy it. He used it better than Darius! Imagine how Darius must feel, man!"
That was an expected reaction because Darius had been known for that skill for years. Years! And Julius picked it up in seconds and made it look like child's play. Not to mention the way he redirected Darius's kinetic reflection back at him. He beat Darius using Darius's own skills better than Darius could and that had people going wild.
Why wouldn't they? How many times had anything like this happened? That someone unknown would suddenly smash right to the top of the list of people who'd most likely win the whole tournament?
In the Academy, a far more interesting conversation was taking place the next morning: professors who had spent decades studying the system and skills were having existential crises over their morning tea.
"How is this possible? Skills are soul-bound. Although more than one person can have the same skill, they're unique expressions of an individual. You can't just... copy them!" one elderly mage insisted.
"But he did and we all saw it. The recordings don't lie."
"Then what we know about skills, is it wrong? Do you understand what that means?"
The younger professor had no words to reply with. He was as stumped as the next professor. They were all hoping that it would turn out to be some kind of trick, because that was a far better outcome.
"Say, what if it is a skill to copy other skills?" the young professor said finally.
"Are you mad!" the elder mage sighed. "But let's think about that for a second. Let's assume that that is the case, how do you propose it would make sense for skills to be under another skill, even if it is their governing skill? We have, in our entire history, never discovered such a thing."
"That's true, professor. But what if it's not a skill that has other skills under it?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if it's a magic branch we've never discovered or is so well hidden we never found it? If it were a skill under that magic branch, then as you know—"
"Magic skills do have spells under them!" the elder mage's eyes lit up.
"Yes, but that would imply he's copying the skills' functionality, but with spells instead."
"Yes, yes! And that there have to be limited slots given that all magic skills of this nature have limited spell slots!"
That was huge, if true. It was certainly a lot of speculation. But then again, for the elder mage, there just could be no other way to do what Julius was doing. That was, unless, he really was copying entire skills... If that were to be true, he had no idea how it even worked.
For the first time in ages, the professors were truly lost. The capital's finest academic minds, the people who wrote the books, who taught the next generation, were reduced to speculating like common tavern-goers.
On the other side of the Capital, the Chronicles building was under siege from people demanding information, details, or anything that could explain what they'd witnessed. Especially nobles, they were being quite handsy, though they couldn't push too much.
After all, the organizers weren't revealing anything, so how could the Chronicles even know about the whole Julius situation? They weren't diviners, though they had their diviners working overtime to find out information. Although they didn't have any success so far that didn't stop them from trying.
Regardless, Simon was loving every second of it even as he coordinated what felt like a small war effort to meet the public's insatiable appetite.
"I want interviews with every magical theorist in the capital! I want historians comparing this to past tournaments! I want—" He paused as a messenger burst in. "What?"
"Sir…"
The man revealed new information… and soon the Chronicles released their next bombshell, and the capital found new reasons to lose its collective mind.
"The next pairing has been announced!"
Theodore versus Tessia.
***
Theodore POV
Julius was strong. There was no doubt about that. But how did he do it? How did he copy skills?
Theodore had been thinking about this ever since he saw the fight. Even though he was back in his room and had enough time to think about it, he didn't know. He had no idea. But he had a theory.
His theory was that Julius had to see the skill being used. That was the most logical explanation. But then, how did he copy Garrett's [Blood Manipulation]? The only way he could have done that was if Garrett used it on him at some point. And why would Garrett do that?
Well... that man didn't really seem like the smartest, so perhaps him using it on Julius wasn't that far-fetched.
But even if that was the case, there had to be a limit. No skill was perfect. There had to be a cost. A drawback. Something.
Anything.
Perhaps the copies were weaker than the original? Or perhaps he could only hold so many copies at once? He had to have some sort of weakness.
He would have to fight Julius eventually. If he wanted to win this tournament, he would have to find that weakness. Because while he wanted and HAD to win this tournament, he didn't want to reveal all his cards doing so.
So he needed a way to beat Julius without revealing all of his cards. And for that, he needed to know more about him. He needed to study him.
He needed to understand him.
But how?
He couldn't just walk up to Julius and ask him.
"Ah man, I hate this; thinking is boring," he mumbled to himself. He was a bit frustrated lately. Sure, his skills had been progressing slowly but surely ever since he started frequenting the Hunting Grounds, but he had yet to find his way through the maze. He had tried brute forcing his way through it but hadn't worked, at all. So he had to find the source of the ash beasts the hard way.
Maybe he should find a stronger ash beast's golden thingy and then have Freya act as a compass again. Maybe that would work? Maybe. It was worth a try.
Anyway, he had to get back to focusing on the tournament. Julius was the problem. He would have to find out more about him in the next match of his, after all, these last four pairings would only let four people remain, one of which would be Julius. So in the semi-finals, he'd have to look at it more closely. Regardless, he should head back into the Hunting Grounds and keep Freya company.
***
When he returned he had a dinner with his family planned so he quickly got to it. This was the first dinner they'd be having together since a while now, given that all of them were busy, especially his father and mother. And Maximilian, well, he was busy dealing with the aftermath of Theodore's little stunt.
His dearest brother was still recovering from the rumors and articles about him, after all it wasn't every day that someone like Maximilian would be involved in something like that. It was one of the rare instances where the name of Lockheart was attached to something so… scandalous after Theodore's earlier years.
When he reached the dining hall, he saw Maximilian sitting there, looking rather annoyed. Hehe. He really did enjoy the sight of him being all annoyed. He couldn't help it. He had to poke the bear. He had to poke the bear. Important things must be said twice.
"What's wrong, brother? You look like you've seen a ghost," he said with a smirk.
Maximilian's eyes twitched. "You," he said. "This is all your fault."
"What is, Maximilian?" Mother asked.
"That—uh" Maximilian blushed. "The rumors, the articles. The scandal! It's all his fault," Maximilian said, pointing at him.
"Ah, the scandals. Yes, I've heard about those," Father said. "They're quite amusing, aren't they?"
"Father! The name of Lockheart is being dragged through the mud!" Maximilian said.
"Don't be so dramatic, Maximilian," Mother said. "It's not that bad. A little scandal is good for the family name. It makes us seem more... human."
That was the last thing Maximilian wanted to hear apparently.
"I'm not being dramatic. It's a disaster. I can't show my face in public without people whispering about me," he whined. "And the women—!"
"What about the women, Maximilian?" Mother smiled.
Theodore almost lost it at the look on Maximilian's face.
"They think I'm some kind of... playboy," he said. "They keep looking at me with... with expectations."
"Expectations of what?" Theodore asked, barely containing his laughter.
"I don't know! But it's unnerving!"
"Oh, dear," Mother said, though she seemed to be enjoying it.
"What's wrong with being a playboy, brother? You should embrace it," Theodore said.
"I don't want to be a playboy! I want to be respected!"
"Hehe."
"What was that! Theodore!" Maximilian looked at him as Theodore shut his mouth.
"Nothing," he said.
"Anyhow, stop chattering, boys," Mother said.