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Elven Lies I : Books of Fate [A Progression Fantasy ]
Elven Lies I Chapter 147 - Old friends Meet in The Narrow lane

Elven Lies I Chapter 147 - Old friends Meet in The Narrow lane

CHAPTER 147

OLD FRIENDS MEET IN THE NARROW LANE

“It's a new day, I need to perfect the golem creation. That is the only way I can do the team thing.” Hans muttered to himself, and once again, reached for the limitless book, but his eyes kept wandering to the undecipherable page labelled ‘Elder form'.

“What the heck is this anyway? I can’t understand shit, wait… Treants… I recognise this..titan.. now what is this…Giants.. ha… the hell. Focus on what can you learn Hans.” He scolded himself, slapping both his cheeks to shake off his distraction and refocusing on his goals.

He then started muttering what he already had, “VeganBind, a perfect restraint and sometimes a deadly weapon, but without the bladed leaves, it's just a tough rope.SeedBullets, my limit is three simultaneous shots, and it takes a lot of time to aim. It's good one-on-one, but in a group… let's not demean it so much and say it's not that effective. BlastSeed has a limited radius, again not good, my own teammates might suffer if not planned properly.”

Hans paused, pulling his hair, “SmokeSeed is the same, as it can also distort mana detection. It's bad for both us and for the enemy. My trap spells could turn ugly if my own teammates stepped on them. Not to mention the crying seeds. Man, As I’ve said previously, I really don't have many options here.”

He turned the page, re-reading each word again in search of any hidden insight. “Please, Wood Golem, I'm literally putting my everything on you,” he muttered, clanking his purse as he prayed, “Please don't disappoint me.”

One month passed by; He stood at the mess he made as Dietrich glanced at the almost ruined Maneating forest of Agrilands. Smirking at the scene the chairman commented, “See, I told you so. It was a very good idea to know about mythical creatures, didn’t you?”

“I’m guessing, the Gloating runs through our blood,” Hans commented, rejoicing at the scene. He practised his newly acquired weapon, a spell to wreak havoc without hurting his members. He was quite happy with his achievement in WoodGolem. But he couldn’t hide his joy of partially awakening, what the book called, ElderForm. “It was halfway done since it probably needed ‘the Solar mage’ book to complete. Thank you, great grandfather, I couldn’t have deciphered that without you.”

“We still don’t know half of it…Wait! My foolish descendant is showing appreciation. The pigs better fly today.” He commented, but he couldn’t believe how much power this half-baked transformation bought, “Samson my boy, how much more scarier you can be.”

Meanwhile, Hans was thinking his own, “Oh man this is sick. Who in the world can stand in my way with this power?”

This was the sixth month of the year, the time for the annual Glory Wars event. Excitement permeated every corner of Concordia as everyone rallied to support the three participating teams: the Junior team, consisting of second years; the Senior team, made up of third years; and the Higher team, consisting of graduates.

“The crowd is no joke.” Hans took a glance at the huge communication orb in the great hall. “So that’s how the broadcast works. It should be everywhere in the world too. I can’t make mistakes.” He looked at his shivering hands, “Wow, what’s with my hands, am I perspiring? Shit since when did I start getting nervous. Haa.. this crap. And, my Great grandfather said feelings would help me. They are doing some fine job.” He mocked, his sarcasm apparent

“Senior,” Vanir came to him, “I bought everything —”

“Why in the world are you here?” Hans asked baffled. Vanir was a first-year student, and they hadn't received much information about Glory Wars during his first year, so Hans was understandably confused. However, Vanir quickly clarified, "New orders from the Chairman. Mentees can accompany their mentoring seniors.”

"Well, he's certainly showing a lot of love for the second years," Hans commented, hoping Dietrich might hear him somewhere, but there was no response. Instead, Vanir, looking at the higher team, said, "Wow, these guys are serious. Almost all of them are around grade seventy or sixth circle.”

"Woah, hotshot, when did you start being able to gauge their levels?" Hans was baffled once again, but like an amused mimic, Vanir imitated Hans, saying, "Who do you think I am—”

“Someone who is going to see the medical ward soon.”

“Hihi,” he giggled, but Hans’s gaze said he was serious. “Don’t joke around senior, I might get scared,” Vanir quickly straightened up and began to explain, "You told me how your mana vision works, so I modified it for myself. It wasn't that hard, but I can't generalize it. I could have earned so many credits. What a waste, right?”

Hans was startled. "Just what did I pick up? He's really something. That's one for me, zero for the elves. Hell yeah, screw Clandor," he said, starting to snicker, humming softly, which gradually attracted the attention of everyone around. However, Vanir's hand quickly found its way to Hans's mouth. "Senior, you sound like some cheap novel's villain. Stop it.” Vanir fervently looked here and there, complaining, “What if any heard you?”

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“Don’t be envious, you’ll reach higher than them,” Hans whispered in Vanir’s ears to not agitate his seniors. Vanir was right so he didn’t want to rub any of them in the wrong way because he was feeling the pressure that even the seventy-grade knight who attacked Edenberg didn’t had. “Crap, they are really strong.”

Hans was assessing everyone around him, finding the higher team impressive, but even the senior team, comprised of third-year students, was quite remarkable. The fourth-year students were not participating in Glory Wars, possibly following an unwritten rule.

As they all entered the great hall, the students cheered them on, with continuous hooting and showering of flowers to wish them victory. Three lines were formed, each led by the professor in charge of the team. Hans's line was led by Walter, the senior team was led by Aredhel, and the higher team had another director wearing a mask.

"Wow, his grade is even higher than Gramps," Hans thought to himself. "I can't even measure it. And here I was declaring myself the strongest after only partially mastering Elder form. These guys here are true monsters.”

In addition to the participating teams, several others followed the students, including Dean Sierra, who was a special invitee to Glory Wars due to her ability to prevent any unwanted deaths. Her presence was not only vital to Concordia but to the entire world. Along with her were several first-year students, mostly called as the errand runners for second years.

Rudolf was also going, and as the dean, he addressed the three teams, “people say winning is not everything in a competition. You should enjoy the time. Isn’t the process more important than the result, right?” He paused and glanced from left to right, then continued with a more determined tone “That’s what you say to harass the losers. There is one thing you have to do out there. Win. period.”

The audience erupted in cheers, as enthusiastic as ever, and Hans couldn't help but smirk at Rudolf's earlier comment. He had almost believed the initial part of the speech. Soon, they all exited the great hall and headed toward the SpaceDoor that connected to the Grimgar capital city.

“Haa.. my old enemy.” Hans said as he stared at the huge SpaceDoor, “I won’t puke a thing this time.” But when he exited the first one to do the deed was none other than himself. Contaminating others to follow him. However, no one was minding him since all were focused on the people beside them.

After wiping his mouth, Hans turned to see a big man, as tall as Rudolf but with a head of thick black hair, a pointed moustache, and a weathered face, approaching their group with the enthusiasm of a child visiting a park.

“Alastor, my friend. How are you?” He came jumping like a little girl towards their group, prompting Hans to think, “Now who is this cartoon —”

His question was swiftly answered as Rudolf instinctively took a step back, mirroring the lunge of the approaching man who seemed ready to embrace him. "Stay away, Dijkstra, you son of a b..." Suddenly his coarse changed and he appeared right before Hans’s eyes. Leaving everyone baffled, including Hans, “What the fuck, how did he shorten that distance like nothing.”

“Wow, ” the man called Dijkstra, admired Hans like he was examining a pet for himself, He muttered, “No shit, you look the same. I understand why Xandor was kicking up a fuss, singing fake all the time.”

"DIJKSTRA," Sierra stressed, and just as quickly as he had appeared before Hans, Dijkstra vanished, reappearing in front of Sierra on his knees. "Commander Dijkstra pays his respects to Princess Ira," he declared with an exaggerated flourish. But Sierra had no warm words of welcome for him; instead, she regarded him with a weary smile.

“Why won't you just die?” Sierra quipped, to which Dijkstra responded with a playful pout. "If you're in such a hurry," he showed his neck and retorted, "you can snap it at any moment, Princess Ira. I promise I won’t move an inch.”

“Tsk,” Sierra clicked her tongue in exasperation, and she cast her gaze beyond Dijkstra, fixing her eyes on the oldest man she knew, Arat, asking through them to take this headache away.

Arat had already begun the process of recalling Dijkstra, but Rudolf couldn't help but chime in, speaking to Arat in hushed tones, “Are you insane, why is this delusional bastard here of all places? What will you do, if he harasses Norwin again.”

“That would be a sight to see, I missed the last time he spanked Norwin,” Arat responded casually.

“Not helping you crackpot Parvian,” Rudolf muttered in frustration.

“He won’t do it, he promised,” Arat assured.

“Was he looking straight into your eyes,” Rudolf asked with suspicions all over his face and when he heard Arat responding positively. He stated clenching his fist, “That means he is definitely going to do something, you..id…Please put him on a leash or something.”

As Hans observed the situation, a myriad of thoughts raced through his mind. "He sure is a nutjob, just as Gramps said, but just how is he doing that?” He couldn’t decipher how quickly Dijkstra moved. “His speed is unlike anything I've ever seen, almost as if he's using space shifts. Yet there's no distortion in the mana.” His golden eyes gleamed as he utilized mana vision to analyze the situation. However, he realized that he wasn't the only one assessing someone.

Numerous pairs of eyes were locked onto him as well. Ten Parvian children, all strong and around his age, stared at him intently. Some looked bewildered, while others seemed to admire him. Yet none of them displayed any malice. Hans was taken aback by this.“Now, what do these people want?”

And when they realised Hans looking at them back, their expressions changed to amusement. “What the heck?” Hans showed his intentions through a flick of mana. His face turned ready to fight but strangely, this action only further fueled their enthusiasm.“These are some weird people.” Hans muttered to himself, Gramps is right every Parvian is a lunatic.”

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