The man’s room was a lavish spread of comforts far beyond what would typically be expected for underground arena luxuries, bars stocked with foods of all types, plush couches and beds, entertainments and games, fancy drapes with artificial sunlight streaming in. It reminded Leo a lot of home, although it was a little small, just a handful of interconnected rooms with a little bit of floor space.

“What exactly are we doing here?” Leo whispered to Garrote, both of them following behind the blond man.

Garrote shrugged, “I don’t know. I thought it’d be fun.”

Leo sighed, “You’re going to get us killed one day.”

“One day, but not today…probably,” Garrote said, following the man to a pair of facing couches, a little coffee table separating them.

“You two are pretty young for travelers. How old are you?” The man asked, his dazzling blue eyes gazing passively at them.

“He’s 17 and I’m 16,” Garrote said, “but how did you know we were travelers? Do we really smell that bad?”

“Well, your clothes are dirty and torn, your hair is greasy and grimy, and you’re wearing garbs I’ve never seen before. It’s safe to bet you’re foreigners, which is pretty surprising to see. We don’t get a lot of visitors around here anymore,” the man replied, pointing out every oddity about them. “But the main reason I ask is mostly because of what I was talking about earlier.”

“Oh yeah, the 5 thing. What was that about anyway? Have you ever heard of that before?” Garrote asked, looking over at Leo, who shook his head in response.

“Walibeld never mentioned it,” Leo said.

At the mention of Walibeld’s name, the man perked forward, “Walibeld? Did you know him?”

“Yeah, he was our trainer, then…well then a lot happened. I’m not sure where he is right now. Did you?” Leo asked.

The man leaned back, studying them intently, “Yeah, I did. I studied at the academy a long time ago. He wasn’t around super often, but I’d see him from time to time. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he never said anything. The guy always did keep to himself. Never let anyone know what he was thinking about,” the man paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “I don’t remember the specifics too well, it’s been years since I last talked to Era, but I have the general gist. Supposedly, everyone has something known as a potential level, which effectively determines how strong someone can become, and how quick they do it. There’s 5 different tiers,” the man said, holding up 5 fingers, “ranging from 1 being the worst, to 5 being the best. If I remember correctly, Era said that 5’s are your one in a million gems, talents that only come around once a century.”

“And that’s us?” Garrote asked, pointing to himself and Leo.

“Pretty sure,” the man responded, shrugging. “Again, it’s been a while. I’m not super refreshed on this stuff.”

“How can you tell?” Leo asked.

“There’s a ton of different devices and measurements that you’re supposed to take to be absolutely certain, but the main two are presence and magical quantity. It’s pretty much just how much magic or presence you can channel. You,” the man said, looking at Leo, “have an extraordinary amount of potential magic in your core, more so than I’ve ever seen for someone as young as you are. You, on the other hand,” he looked towards Garrote, “have an extraordinary amount of presence as well as some pretty solid magic. I imagine you find yourself more comfortable with close martial combat rather than ranged.”

“Woah, that’s crazy. How did he know that?” Garrote asked, turning towards Leo, who neglected to respond.

“Seeing two of you roaming around together, especially so young, is extraordinary, like witnessing two future kings just starting to sprout,” the man said, his tone lower, more down to earth.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Stop, you’re making me blush,” Garrote said, jokingly looking away and swatting his hand at the man.

“Haven't there been a lot of extraordinary fighters recently? Era of prodigies, that’s what I always hear everyone call it,” Leo noted, recalling his old history lessons on the different eras.

“Yeah, that’s right. In the last 150 years or so, at least a dozen 5’s have been born, some of them lying low while others take up important mantles. Just off the top of my head: Mally, the Conqueror, the Bloody, Parafice, the 2nd and 3rd guardians, Peravus, Arnis, Lairick, and a couple others I think were all born in this era, every single one of them finding themselves pretty much at the top of the food chain. That’s not to say they’re all 5’s, but they’re all at least 4’s. To get to those higher levels of strength, aspect, legendary weapons, zenith casts, etcetera, you pretty much have to be a 4 or 5,” the man said.

“Do you know any other 5’s, just for, y’know, comparison?” Garrote said, a coy grin on his face.

“I wouldn’t recommend comparing yourself to them. Every other 5 alive right now has had years and years to hone their skills. They already reached the end of their stories. Meanwhile, you’re just starting yours. But since you’re curious, I know that the Conqueror and the Bloody both are for sure. You would’ve been a bit too young to remember, but their ascension to their respective thrones has been a big deal the last two decades. Both of them are monstrous fighters capable of herculean feats without breaking a sweat, or so the stories say. Haven't met either of ‘em myself. Other than them,” the man paused, rubbing his chin and furrowing his brow, “the Bulwark is supposed to be one, the 3rd guardian definitely is one, not sure about the second, and Walibeld and Era both are. I’m not sure about anyone else.”

“Wait, the 3rd guardian is a 5, but the 2nd isn’t? How does that work? Yuleye seemed pretty strong when we met him,” Garrote said, crossing his arm across his chest, clearly forgetting he only had one.

“You met him? Yuleye the Tamer?” The man asked, his eyes gleaming with sudden interest.

“We did, back in Wyrm’s perch. He helped us out of a tricky spot,” Leo said.

“Sorry, I’m getting a little distracted. You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. To answer your question, from what I’m aware, both Yuleye and Aylith, the 3rd guardian, are fantastically talented fighters, some of the finest in the world. The main difference between them, however, is their ages. Yuleye is in his early 30’s or so. But Aylith is far younger from what I remember, not much older than you lot. I’ll say he’s 20, but that’s a tentative guess. This information isn’t exactly commonplace. I only know because Era keeps in contact with people all over the world, and he’ll still send me letters every now and then,” the man looked up at the ceiling, his tone softening to carry a more wistful energy. “I kind of wonder what he’s up to nowadays. Been a while since I last saw him.”

“We’re actually planning to meet him, currently. We’re on a journey to the Academy for another friend of ours, Trenton. We’ve only stopped in Zerital because of a complication along the way,,” Leo said.

“Really, are you? It’s a tough decision to make so quickly, but it’s not like I’ll have another chance as good as this one. How about this? I’ve been looking for an excuse to leave Zerital for a while. The place is fine, I’m something of a local celebrity, get paid well, too, but fights are becoming more and more common by the day. It’ll be messy the day that an actual battle breaks out. So, do you mind if I tag along with you?” Yusadel asked, giving them a charming smile.

“Yes, of-” Garrote started.

“I don’t think that’s our call to make. Trenton should have the final word,” Leo interrupted.

“Oh, yeah. I guess you’re right. That’s fine. We can wait. Although,” Garrote’s cheerful expression sobered, “we’re at a bit of an impasse right now. The salamanders kidnapped a friend of ours, someone we were traveling with, as well as a large storma. We can’t leave without them.”

“Wait, a large storma? Do you mean a godsburn!?” The man cried, practically jumping to his feet.

“They did mention something like that, didn't they?” Leo asked, tilted his head to the side.

Slowly, the man relaxed back into his seat, his face more grave, “That’s bad business. If you had a godsburn, then they must’ve taken it to Kraijsh personally, the salamander emperor. Your friend’s probably also there, if I had to guess, which means that if you want them back, we’d have to storm the salamanders temple in the northern district.”

“We? I thought you wanted nothing to do with the strife?” Garrote said.

“I don’t, but if I sent you off alone, you’d all get yourselves killed. Plus, I’m not much a fan of the salamanders myself. I wouldn’t mind gutting a couple before we left. You said this Trenton guy would have the final say, right? Take me to him. We’ll storm the temple tonight and be out by day break,” the man said, resolute.

Garrote and Leo exchanged nervous looks, the task before them much greater than they’d initially anticipated. A prison? Sure. Underground organization? Maybe. Emperor's temple? Absolutely not. Even considering it was suicide, but the man was offering to help them. He seemed capable, far more than they, definitely a powerful ally, yet Leo couldn’t help but shiver, the thought of their task instilling Leo with an unwavering sense of trepidation.

“Alright, we’re out by dawn,” Leo said, summoning whatever confidence he had lingering in his body, almost immediately regretting his decision.