[https://imgur.com/b0126500-5dfc-494a-8e31-c68df6684492][https://i.imgur.com/kdNTzjF.png]
PSIONIC SWORDFORCE
Congratulations, you have unlocked a new [Affinity Skill]!
[Rarity]: Rare
[Description]: You have successfully managed to unlock the Skill [Psionic Swordforce], and added it to your list of Affinity Skills. [Psionic Swordforce] allows you to project a layer of Psi across your weapon, and greatly enhances its offensive and defensive power.
[Effect]: Wrap your blade in a sheath of Psionic Power
[Cost]: 15 Psi on Activation, with a channel cost of 1 Psi per 3 Seconds until cancelled
“Congratulations on your victory, Leonidas.”
Leonidas swiped away his System screen, and looked up from where he sat on one of the benches when Tarnys entered the locker room, while smiling wryly at the black-haired elven warrior. Tarnys looked slightly ruffled to his eyes, and something about the elf’s countenance spoke to ‘dealing with the public’ in the way that only such an experience could convey. He looked somewhat like a harangued police officer.
It was more amusing than it should have been.
“Thank you, Tarnys. I take it you were in the stands when Ceruviel interceded?”
“I was, as were several other members of the Duskguard and Dawnguard.” Tarnys frowned while he spoke, and his green eyes narrowed in consternation while he approached closer. “It’s quite unprecedented, Leonidas. The Arena Master knew there would be no tolerance for what happened to you in the games, and yet he still did it knowing it would cost him his life.”
“I take it he didn’t survive the Swarm Tyrants?” Leonidas asked with little to no concern. Death for the criminally stupid, and those that actively worked to bring about his own demise, had long ago been numbed for him. Turnabout was fair play, and he wasn’t going to pretend to care about the untimely end of someone that had intentionally tried to kill him.
“He didn’t,” Tarnys confirmed. “The match lasted all of five minutes, and happened almost immediately after you came back. The Dusk-Lord wasted no time in making a spectacle of him, much to the crowd’s shock. He was a popular Arena Master, but he can be replaced. Our integrity is not worth his fame.”
“Did Ceruviel manage to extract who it was that put him up to it?”
“I don’t know,” Tarnys responded with a little shrug. “I have yet to speak to the Dusk-Lord about the matter, and I’m only a Dagger-Master, Leonidas. I can’t truthfully expect to be informed about such—”
“You’re a Lance-Master, now, Tarnys.” Ceruviel’s voice cut in, and both Leonidas and Tarnys turned to the door to see her entering as silently and abruptly as if she’d essentially teleported.
Tarnys stared at her, and Leonidas squinted at her.
When Tarnys seemed too struck to respond, Leonidas took advantage.
“Why can’t I sense you, if I can sense Tarnys?”
“I have a shield around my mindglow,” Ceruviel responded with a tone that implied it was obvious. “That will be another talent I teach you, eventually.”
“Is that a Skill?” Leonidas asked immediately.
“No. Not everything we do with the System is strictly tied to Skills. In fact, even though Skill Books and their requisite benefits exist, it is considered crippling to learn new talents that way.” Ceruviel explained with a tone of disdain for the entire notion. “Skill Books can be fine, I suppose, for your Archetype or Aspect—but are far too linear for an Affinity like Psi. What you need is diversified Cultivation, and active acquisition of new knowledge in how to manipulate your natural power.”
“Is that what Skill Purchase Points are used for?”
“Yes.” Ceruviel confirmed. “You may purchase Skill Books from the System with them, though I reiterate: outside of your Archetype or Aspect, they would be a mistake.”
“Alright, that’s something to consider,” Leonidas said while turning back to Tarnys, who was still staring at Ceruviel mildly dumbstruck.
“I…” the other man swallowed, glanced at Leonidas in bewilderment, and then turned back to Ceruviel. “Me? Lance-Master?”
“Has that not been your ambition?” the Duchess asked with a hint of impatience.
“It has! It has, your grace, but I didn’t think I would be selected to—”
“Your power is lacking compared to some, true enough.” Ceruviel said with immediate and brutal honesty, and caused Leonidas to wince sympathetically. “But your character is sound, Tarnys. I have known you since your days as a recruit, and one’s mind is far more telling, to me, than merely their actions. You have always been noble in your convictions, and true to our mission—more than that, you had the common sense and wherewithal to bring Achilles to me directly, and swiftly.”
“It—it was just the right thing to do,” Tarnys objected in a way Leonidas found a little odd. Why the man didn’t just accept the promotion, with thanks and a simple salute, seemed strange. There was something going on Leonidas wasn’t aware of, he surmised, and he resolved not to interject.
“Your chronic humility will be the death of your career, Tarnys,” Ceruviel said with a mix of fondness and disdain that Leonidas was quickly coming to realize seemed to be the Dusk-Lord’s norm when speaking at times. “I understand where your reservations stem from, but as I have told you half a dozen times; Milytha’s death is not your fault, and constantly bearing that weight on your soul will only serve to diminish her memory.”
Tarnys visibly winced at Ceruviel’s words, but the Dusk-Lord continued ruthlessly.
“You have been a loyal son of Dawnhaven since we all still served at the pleasure of King Valinois, Tarnys, and you’ve proven your mettle on our homeworld and our new one. I greatly dislike having to explain to people why they are neither stupid nor incompetent, because the need to explain usually implies both to be true. I have chosen you as Lance-Master. The question is, do you still wish to serve? Or is this hesitancy a sign of flagging commitment?”
Tarnys’ eyes widened at Ceruviel’s words, and he dropped to one knee immediately, and slammed his fist to his heart.
“I would never, Dusk-Lord! My life belongs to you, and to Dawnhaven!”
“Good,” the Duchess said flatly, “then stop being a moping fool and go celebrate your promotion with your wife. I am certain she and your son will be thrilled to hear the news.”
Tarnys looked up at Ceruviel, and smiled at her in a mix of devotion and gratitude that made Leonidas raise an eyebrow. The look on his temporary companion’s face was one he’d seen plenty, in fact, among the Knights under Miranda’s command. Once again the borderline disconcerting level of parallels between Ceruviel and his former mentor, whom Leonidas was not entirely sure hadn’t simply been part of some elaborate System hoax, made him thoughtful.
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“Thank you, Dusk-Lord!” Tarnys said while rising to his feet, and turning to Leonidas with a warmer smile than he’d ever given. “I suppose I will see you later, Leonidas!”
“Thanks. I’ll win my next match for you.”
Tarnys blinked, but before he could speak, Ceruviel cut in again.
“Your matches are done, Achilles. What comes next will be both easier and more difficult, though it’s something we’ll need to get out of the way.” she sighed with what Leonidas interpreted as irritation. “Becoming the direct Apprentice to the Dusk-Lord has its own complications.”
Tarnys’ eyes widened, and he turned to Leonidas with an appraising look.
“I suppose we’ll be seeing each other again soon, then… Ace.” the elf said with a slight smile. “Take care, until we do.”
“You too, Tarnys!” Leonidas said, and then the black-haired elf saluted Ceruviel and left fast. He clearly wanted to go break the good news to his family, which it occurred to Leonidas he’d never asked about. Part of him felt a little guilty for that, and another part of him wondered if it was even any of his business to begin with.
Thankfully, Ceruviel saved him before he could go down another introspective spiral.
“First things first, we need to clean you up and address some valid concerns around your origins, existence, and how little time I’ve known you for.”
“You did jump on this Apprentice thing pretty insanely fast,” Leonidas pointed out.
“I have the advantage of my Affinity, Achilles. Your mind is no more mysterious to me, in terms of intent and desire, than my own. An open mind is like a Fortress, with its gates unbarred and unguarded. We will correct that swiftly, but first, tell me: what is it that has you so giddy with pleasure?”
“Oh! Right. Well, you remember how we spoke about Skills and whatnot?”
“You mean literal moments ago?” the Duchess asked sardonically.
“Yes, it’s just a way of—nevermind,” Leonidas said with a sigh. “The point is, I unlocked a Title and Skill, and I may as well share them with you.”
Ceruviel raised her eyebrows a fraction, but nodded. “Go on.”
“The first is the Title, Mana Sage, which increases my total mana by twenty-five percent, and my mana regeneration by the same.”
“I have heard of it,” his new mentor said in what he might have called an impressed tone, “though never at your level. That bears some investigation. You will need to tell me how that happened.”
“I will,” Leonidas said honestly. There was no point hiding it. “The second part is more in keeping with what you spoke about earlier: I unlocked a new skill called Psionic Swordforce.”
A look of satisfaction flitted across Ceruviel’s face, followed by an expression of self-vindicated surety, as if he’d confirmed something she’d suspected—but the Duchess gave no insights as to her thoughts, and instead simply gestured for him to continue with unblinking attention.
“You don’t know how I acquired it?” Leonidas asked with genuine surprise.
“That is a wildly idiotic assumption,” the Duchess responded dryly. “I, too, possess the Skill Achilles—what I am more curious about is how you came to possess it.”
“Oh. I just projected my Affinity across my sword using Psikinetic Blade. It took some doing, but I managed to force it to mold to the sword enough that it snapped into form." Leonidas used his hands to vaguely illustrate the process while he spoke, and shrugged when he was done. "I guess using it enough times in my match unlocked the Skill.”
“And you came up with this all on your own?” Ceruviel asked skeptically.
Leonidas frowned up at her. “It just seemed more sensible than creating a second sword made of my Affinity. Anchoring it to my Psiblade—” he emphasized the ‘Psi’ part of the name “—struck me as vastly more efficient than wielding two different weapons, even if one might have been invisible, or usable at range.”
Ceruviel shook her head at his words and chuckled quietly, with an edge of disbelief.
“The reason for my skepticism, Achilles, is because not only did you perfectly manifest a swordforce in the original way it was conceived by the Archon Order, you managed to do so under pressure, in combat, and without even reaching your first tier.”
“I suppose that’s impressive,” Leonidas admitted with a frown, though it felt strange saying so. Ceruviel’s emphasis on the process was odd, but he learned way barely a moment later.
“Impres—Achilles, Psionic Swordforce is a Third Tier skill, and less than ten percent of Psi users even come close to mastering it!”
Leonidas stared up at her in genuine surprise when she spoke.
“That seems ridiculous,” he said instinctively. “It’s such a simple…”
He trailed off when he started speaking, and realized suddenly that perhaps it wasn’t as simple as he’d thought. Swordforce had been a talent he’d mastered in Elatra during the so-called [Integration Trial] as a key component in wielding the Seven Sword Skills, and as part of his path as the Hero. He’d learned it from Miranda, who had taught it to him herself in private.
When he’d asked about that, she’d merely told him to shut up and focus.
Thinking back on it, though, Leonidas couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone other than himself or Miranda using the skill. In fact, outside of his own applications of the talent, he remembered feeling markedly confused by why more people didn’t abuse the hell out of Swordforce’s insane levels of amplification during battle.
Perhaps the skill had been far less common or well-understood than he’d believed.
“So I take it me learning this is—”
“Absolutely unprecedented, and cannot be shared.” Ceruviel said matter-of-factly. “If anybody asks you how you fought, you simply say that you used Psikinetic Blade to sharpen an edge on your sword during cuts. Nobody with enough Psi Affinity exists to question the truth of the matter, and I will ensure that suspicion does not land on you.”
“Why the need for secrecy?” he asked with a frown. “I won’t deny you the request, but it seems sus—”
“Because there are elements in this city, Achilles, that will gladly cut your throat the instant they deem you to be a genuine threat—and manifesting Swordforce at Novice Tier makes you a very clear fucking threat.”
“Then why aren’t you concerned?” he asked boldly.
At that point, she smacked him upside the head faster than he could blink.
“Because,” she said while he cursed and reached up to rub his suddenly-stinging scalp, “you being a little monster factors perfectly into my needs for Dawnhaven, and I am uniquely suited to putting your head on a spike if you turn out to be the threat others may mistake you for now. I am training you, but I am also watching you, and I would be a poor Dusk-Lord if I wasn’t prepared to put you down if you turned rabid.”
“Sure, okay, whatever,” Leonidas groused. “But what now? No more Arena fights, so what’s the next step?”
“The next step is as I stated. There are protocols to be followed. First, we’ll get you some new and more appropriate clothes, and settle you into my home.”
“Hey, wait, what?”
“Would you rather live on the street?” she asked curtly.
“...nevermind,” Leonidas muttered. “And then what?”
“We’ll assess your skills, purchase points, and how to guide your growth—and then, after all that, we will make two important stops. First, the Adventurers’ Guild to acquire your Iron License.”
“Oh! Excellent,” he said with genuine enthusiasm, “I wanted to do that anyway.”
“I assumed. You’ll need it for Dungeon Delving if you wish to grow in strength.”
“And the second thing?” he asked with a growing sense of excitement.
“You will be taken to the Palace,” Ceruviel said with a sly smile, “and present yourself to the Princess of Dawnhaven.”
Leonidas frowned at her words immediately, and eyed the tall, silver-haired aristocrat dubiously. “Why?”
“Oh? That’s your only question? I would think meeting Elven Royalty would be more daunting,” Ceruviel said with canny amusement.
“Consider it part of my eventually disclosed secrets,” Leonidas responded dryly, “but I’m inured to that sort of thing. Again, I ask, why?”
“I accept that for now.” Ceruviel stated with a nod, and then continued. “As to the why, that’s simple: Dawnhaven is poised on the edge of civil war, Achilles, no matter how tame Tarnys made it sound. The Dawn-Lord and I are of a mind on whom should ascend the throne in the end, but there was previously no way to guarantee it. Now, I see a path forward—and it involves you, and your propensity for absurd achievements.”
“What are you scheming, Ceruviel?” Leonidas asked while watching the Dusk-Lord’s smirking face.
“I’ll explain on the way,” the Duchess said with a ruthless smile. “I’m sure you’ll hate every moment of it, but such is the burden of the Apprentice.”
Leonidas sighed, took the cue, and rose from the bench.
“Don’t I need to swear some sort of oath first?” he asked while moving forward to follow her.
“You will in time,” Ceruviel confirmed. “But for now, just enjoy the exposition.”
“That sounds ominous,” he responded warily.
“Of course it’s ominous,” Ceruviel laughed. “I’m going to put you through hell, Achilles. Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”
At that, Leonidas simply snorted.
He wasn’t surprised one little bit.