"Well, now it's your turn, I hope you've managed to come up with at least one interesting question." Vareus Zanord turned to the young tournament participants sipping from his wine glass.
Instantly, sixteen hands were raised up.
Vareus was not surprised by this reaction. He decided not to waste time arguing over who was worthy to ask the question. Let chance decide this time. He called out to the servant standing behind him.
"Hey, bring me sixteen incense sticks and a sand smoker. Quickly."
The servant behind him immediately disappeared through the door leading to the back rooms of the temple.
The audience waited patiently for what would happen next, not daring to ask the sect elder a question.
A minute later the servant returned with a large bronze bowl filled with sand and a bundle of incense. Vareus gestured to the pulpit, after which the servant carefully placed everything on the table.
"Sixteen people and only three questions. Let the lot decide which of you is worthy to ask a question."
Elder Zanord spoke leisurely, at the same time gathering up the incense sticks lying before him, three of them he broke off part of the stem, about the length of a finger phalanx. Then stirring them in his hand he thrust the sticks into the bowl. And with the palm of his hand he drove them into the sand, so that it was not clear which of the sticks was shorter, for the broken off ends were deeply embedded in the sand.
"Well. Everyone draw incense sticks, those whose sticks are shorter than the others can ask a question. If there are no objections, then we can begin. Come forward one at a time and choose your lot."
The suggestion to draw lots was a bit unexpected, but many were glad for it. After all, now even those who had already dropped out of the tournament, having been defeated in the first two days, had a chance to ask a question. One by one they went to the smoker and pulled out one of the sticks, being careful not to hit the others.
When it was Cenn's turn he took the closest of the remaining incense sticks. But it turned out to be intact. Luck was not on his side this time.
After a couple minutes it was over and the lucky ones who had pulled out the short sticks could ask their questions.
"Time to ask your questions. We'll start with you."
Vareus turned to one of the guys holding a broken incense stick.
"H-Hello Elder Zan-n-nord, my name is Henet Rodal. To have the opportunity to ask you a question is a great honor for me."
The young man bowed as low as he could and stood there for a few seconds. Which was clearly much longer than what etiquette required of him.
"Question!" Vareus decided to hurry the lad along.
"Yes, yes, honorable elder. Right now my main goal in life is to form the third seal. I am sure sooner or later I will do so. But what to do after that, will my cultivation journey really end there?"
Finishing his question Henet bowed again. By this point, however, Elder Zanord was no longer looking at him. Vareus was watching the wine in his glass play in the light. Nevertheless, he heard the question.
"I'm afraid I won't tell you anything new. After you form the first three seals using the 27 base sigils, the only way to progress is to obtain new sigils.
Unfortunately for you, the Emperor and the Temple believe that commoners must earn the right to cultivate the fourth and following seals.
How to do that is up to you.
The best option is to join one of the sects, if you're talented enough, you should have no trouble gaining access to the 4th seal sigils after 15-20 years.
The second option is a bit more difficult - go to serve in the army of one of the nearest kingdoms, and hope that you can distinguish yourself in battles and get the rank of an officer, a noble title, and with it, access to the sigils of the fourth seal.
As for the faster options, I would not advise either of you to seriously consider them. The Temple of the First Martial Emperor is careful to ensure that high-level sigils do not fall to those unworthy of them. Unless you want to hang on a pole alongside thieves and murderers, I wouldn't advise you to take any chances.
I'm afraid I have nothing more to add."
"Thank you for such a detailed response, Elder Z-zanord."
Henet bowed once more and took his seat on the mat.
Without waiting for Henet to take his seat, a short but very sturdily built young man sitting not far from him rose from his seat and addressed the Elder, raising up his hand with a broken incense stick.
"Elder Zanord, allow me to ask the following question."
Vareus was a bit surprised by the young man's initiative, but had nothing against it. And with a nod of his head, he allowed him to ask the question.
"Thank you. My name is Krinnel Faro, I know that noble families and sects have secret techniques that allow them to use sigils in ways different from those in the First Martial Emperor's Manual. Could you tell me about what those are."
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After asking his question Krinnel immediately took his seat on the mat.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to answer this question unequivocally. What you call secret techniques are a whole range of practices and methods to strengthen sigils. But the general gist of it is that by using these techniques, you can increase the power of your spells by several times.
The Iron Fist Sect, of which I am an elder, got its name from the Iron Fist technique.
I think it would be easier to show than tell."
Elder Zanord took the bronze sand bowl in his hand that he had previously used for casting lots. He stepped out from behind the pulpit and took a couple steps in the direction of the young youths sitting on the floor.
Then holding the bronze bowl in his left hand in front of him he raised his right hand into the air. A moment later, his right hand turned black, starting from his fingertips and going all the way up to his wrist, the elder's hand turned a blue-black color.
Everyone present watched in fascination, waiting to see what would happen next.
Finally, when the entire palm had turned black, Vareus, in one sharp movement, struck a slashing horizontal blow on the bronze bowl with his right palm.
The impact caused almost all the sand to spill out onto the floor. And the elder's palm stuck halfway through the bowl, shattering it like a sword. To get his palm out, Vareus balled his palm into a fist, shattering the bowl into several pieces, which he immediately threw to the floor.
After a couple of seconds, his hand took on a normal color.
All of the youths were shocked. Normally, Sigil Iron was used to repair weapons if there was no way to take them to a blacksmith. And no combat potential in their eyes this Sigil had. But now, the Elder had turned his hand into a deadly weapon using what they thought were useless sigils.
Returning to the pulpit, he took a couple sips from the glass and continued his answer.
"In the manual that the Temple provides to all residents of the empire, there is no body amplification technique for Sigil Iron. But I just demonstrated it to you.
Sigils are primarily a map of energy points. For example, the Fire Sigil has 67 points of qi concentration. To use the fireball spell you need to activate 13. To enhance your weapon with fire you only need 9.
Did you really think the rest of the points in the sigil were for beauty? No, there are countless spells and techniques for each sigil, many of which are common in sects, armies, and noble houses. And are secret only to commoners."
Vareus smiled haughtily and took a sip from his glass.
"Next!"
Finally, the last of the lucky ones waited for his turn. It was a short young man with a bald shaved head. He quickly stood up and bowed to the elder.
"Greetings, Elder Zanord. My name is Lugarin Trovet. During my training I practice using sigils to enchant weapons, enhance my body, and cast spells on a target. I have encountered a problem, when reinforcing my body with certain sigils instead of the desired effect, nothing happens and sometimes I feel a lot of pain. When enchanting weapons and casting spells everything is fine. No one in the clan knows what the reason is, please help me."
Lugarin finished speaking and bowed to Elder Zanord and sat back down in his seat.
Vareus looked at the boy carefully, as if carefully considering his question.
"Do you know what elemental compatibility is?"
Lugarin rose from his seat to answer the elder properly.
"Yes Elder Zanord I know about elemental compatibility, but all elemental sigils work the same for me. The problems come when I try to use sword and spear sigils to improve my skill."
Vareus nodded contentedly after hearing the guy's words.
"Besides elemental compatibility, there are other innate talents. Apparently your talent is related to one of the weapons. Since your body rejects spear and sword sigils, you probably have an innate talent in bow wielding. I think with the proper persistence you'll make an excellent archer. As for Sigil rejection, there's nothing you can do about it, you shouldn't use them."
Lugarin was filled with joy at hearing the elder's words, a problem he had considered his flaw turned to a gift. The realization of this overwhelmed his heart with joy.
Elder Anord standing behind the pulpit pulled a small scroll from the inner pocket of his robe.
"At last we are done with the questions. And now I can get to the true purpose of my visit. I have in my hand the decree of the Iron Fist Sect Head."
Everyone present in the hall was confused. Never before had the Iron Fist Sect issued decrees within the principality. Did this mean that the sect would demand something from them? And what would happen if they refused to obey this decree?
Vareus unrolled the scroll and began to read.
"In the name of Tebrus Zanord, head of the Iron Fist Sect.
I declare.
The reward for the winner of this year's tournament will be the opportunity to join the Iron Fist Sect."
Vareus was too lazy to read out the whole decree, so he reduced the huge text to a single phrase.
"..."
The audience met the decree with a sepulchral silence.
"You don't seem very happy about it."
Zanord had expected a more cheerful reaction from the participants that had not yet been eliminated from the tournament.
"..."
None of the clan heads dared to be the first to take the floor.
"Hmm. I realize that you are surprised. I think I'll give you time to digest this news."
But before Vareus could step out from behind the pulpit, Mizra Orist jumped up from his seat and bowed low to him.
"On behalf of the entire town, I thank you and your sect for such an honor. I am sure the strongest man will win the tournament. And he will not disappoint you."
Saying these words, Mizra stared intently at Aydor.
"I have no doubt." Vareus paid no heed to the old man's words and headed to his seat at the table.
As the elder took his seat, Bishop Ardul addressed the tournament participants.
"Young friends, I think you may be dismissed."
The old man smiled and gestured for them to depart the temple.
Just then, one of the deacons approached the boys and politely asked them to follow him to the exit.