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Champions of Itaro [Cultivation Fantasy]
Ch.18.1: Five Months of Failure

Ch.18.1: Five Months of Failure

Five months. Five months of endless failure, pointless effort, and dead ends. Amaro had not been able to escape the estate even once no matter what he tried.

The best thing he could say about the past five months was that he got to spend more time with his sister, Sancta. She had become a study partner of sorts for him. She was always in the libraries with her nose buried in some type of book.

Amaro wasn’t much for reading, but having a librarian for a sister made it a lot easier to find the books he needed.

Tomes on magical techniques, manuals on warfare, records of historical figures good or bad, stories of prison breaks and how it was done. All of it was at his disposal and none of it worked to his benefit.

Lorshiir, his butler and mentor, was in charge of keeping him confined to the estate until winter came.

Whatever Amaro read, his warden had likely already read twice over. If Amaro focused his magic to his brain, he could absorb the information faster. It was one of the only reasons he had kept up with the curriculum given to him and his siblings within the estate.

Amaro remembered one of his first attempts only a week after he’d been grounded to the estate. Raktus in particular had gotten an even bigger chip on his shoulder than Amaro. Not only had he failed to exit the estate, but he’d also been bested in battle by one of the Tibur children who entered afterward.

Amaro recalled their name was Arik Tibur. To Amaro’s recollection, the xio was a wind magic user with dark skin and heterochromatic eyes. They had long box braids with one side of their head shaved in the pattern of Tibur runes. They had a slight, wispy build which betrayed the true strength they held. Everyone had been surprised to see the earth elemental power house that was Raktus getting tossed around by such a skinny looking xio.

Regardless, that humiliation had led to Raktus taking up quite a bit of Lorshiir’s attention and tutelage. Constantly demanding that he secure warriors to spar with him, and always asking for additional weapons.

Raktus’s new goal to defeat Arik when they met again in the winter had created a fantastic opportunity for Amaro to escape. He was the perfect diversion.

Or so Amaro had thought.

He had prepped a few basic necessities for running away from home. Some money, clothes, and a bit of unspoilable food from the dinner table. He stowed it all in a closet behind his clothes.

Amaro’s father was also absent on his own business as usual, so the timing was perfect.

The day had started like any other, with Amaro waking to the quakes and shouts of Raktus’s sparring sessions.

As Amaro walked outside, still in his pajamas with a glass of fruit juice in his hand, A shockwave rumbled through the house. A tremor bounced Amaro into the air like he was on a trampoline.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The contents of his drink flew up into the air.

They’re at it again.

He adjusted the placement of his now empty glass and caught the falling liquid before it could hit the ground.

Amaro exited the building into a bright open courtyard. In front of him was a large marble brick sparring ground,.

In the center, Raktus clashed with Lorshiir.

"I was beginning to think you'd entered hibernation, Amaro." Anitus sounded off to his right.

"I was, and then some tremors woke me up." Amaro said with a smirk, "Good morning Anitus. Were you waiting to spar with me?"

The ground shook once more, Raktus shouted a curse in frustration.

Anitus crossed his arms and sighed, "Well ever since that Tibur boy humiliated our dear younger brother, he’s been up early to work on his combat skills."

“I see, who’s winning?”

The marbled stone beneath their feet fractured as another seismic wave was sent through the courtyard.

"Who do you think?"

Another curse was yelled out in the distance by Raktus.

“Sounds like Raktus is more a Tibur than we are with that mouth of his,” Amaro took a sip of his drink, tilting his head as a javelin shot past his cheek and embedded into the stone wall behind him.

“Raktus’s hearing is as good as ever though!” Anitus chuckled.

"So it would seem…"

"Meaning we won't be able to have our match until they do." Anitus leaned against the wall crossing his arms.

"What makes you think I’m going to have a match with you?"

"You’ve something better to do?”

Amaro shrugged, “Maybe I do.”

Anitus clicked his tongue, “You’re confined here and you’ve been falling behind in your studies lately. Don’t think cramming this week is going to help you, by the way."

"Oh I can only hope I’ll be cramming for just this week and not until winter."

"Well one week of cramming for you is usually an entire year’s worth for poor Raktus. Poor sod won’t make it through the second trial let alone to the Tibur’s camp if he keeps trying to brute force his way through everything."

"Oi! Anitus shut your mouth!" Raktus yelled out.

"Focus on your fight, idiot!" Anitus shot back, watching as Raktus narrowly avoided a strike from Lorshiir’s Rapier.

"If only Raktus would put those good ears of his to proper use during lessons…" Amaro mumbled.

"That's rich coming from you, Amaro."

Amaro scratched his messy white hair, yawning, “I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Typical,” Anitus spat.

Now was Amaro’s chance, he bolted as quick and silent as he could to his room. Amaro got dressed and snatched up his satchel.

He would exit from a window in the back of the manor and skulk through the bushes until he got to the gate. By the time Lorshiir would catch wind of his escape, he would have already completed all three trials. From there, Amaro knew a spell he could use for bolstering his already prodigious speed.

He pulled up the window, only for a strong wind to slam it shut again.

"And where are you going with that travel bag, Amaro?" Lorshiir said, having dragged an unconscious Raktus by his collar.