Chapter 3:

Alban Freenaud was a highly praised mage of the Uldah Academy, however his decision to stay in the academy as a scholar and his young age meant that he wasn’t used to walking among high society. This was a default that he regretted not correcting now that he and the other heroes had been called for an audience with the king of Shicks. They had quickly moved to the royal palace itself once the messenger had relayed the convocation.

While they waited to be called in the throne room, he noted that he wasn’t the only nervous one. Adeline was fidgeting. Everytime she noticed she was doing so, she would stop herself only to start again. Ira, the anomalous hero, seemed nonplused, but Alban noticed how his eyes shifted from side to side. Clearly, he was hiding his nervousness. Alban knew one was a farmer ,and the other a mercenary. He didn’t know how well they would fare in a royal court.

The others were more well put together. Hwarang stared at the door, waiting. It would not be the first time he would meet royalty. Rosetta had a wan smile on her face. Marigold’s eyes were closed and her hands were busy playing with her cat-shaped familiar. The elf mage could feel the Ice Mana exuding from the Elemental.

Finally, the great enchantment-covered, marble doors of the throne room opened.

“Announcing the Chosen Heroes and their companion!” A strong voice called out.

They had chosen the narrative of Ira being a mercenary hired by Marigold to escort her who decided to stick with the heroes. So he walked behind the group as they entered.

Alban and the others kneeled before King Karl Hilltak III. His family had ruled Shicks for the last fifteen generations. It was impressive knowing that the throne wasn’t hereditary. It was Lady Astraea who chose the ruler of the Theocracy. The fact that she let the Hilltaks keep the throne meant that they had kept the standards set by the Pope for all this time.

Karl Hilltak III himself was a man that well in his twilight years. He had already been king when the ninth Overlord declared his rebellion. Yet, his back was straight, his shoulders broad, his white hair only gave him more dignity, and his gaze was still sharp.

“Welcome Heroes. And you too, Ira Lughwein. You may rise.” Even his voice was strong.

“You honor me by knowing my name, your Majesty.” Ira lowered his head. Alban felt relieved. Unlike his dramatic entry in the Pope’s office, it seemed the Beastkin could be polite.

“And Hwarang, we are delighted to see you once more.” The king’s attention shifted to a familiar face.

“I would have preferred it to be in better circumstances.” The two old men’s gazes met up.

“Indeed. We shall skip the pleasantries, then.” The ruler’s wrinkly face grew more serious. “The presence of a new Overlord so soon after the last one has worried many. To reassure them, it would be for the best if we could see the capabilities of the Chosens.”

“And that would imply?” Hwarang asked with a raised eyebrow.

“A spar against some of the Royal Shield.”

Alban licked his suddenly dry lips. The Royal Shield was the elite of the Theocracy’s knights, all handpicked to guard the palace and the current ruler.

While Alban thought of the ramifications of a spar against the knights, King Karl continued speaking.

“You have nothing to prove, old friend, and no one would doubt the Rotten Flower Lich. However, many see young men and women at your side, and not the ones chosen by the Archons.”

Appearances were a problem for everyone. While Hwarang and Rosetta were legends in their own right, if for opposite reasons. But, the four other heroes were young and unknown. Alban was ready to pull his weight and show his mastery of magic.

“Come heroes, we shall go to the training grounds, and you shall prove your mettle.” Saying that, the King rose from his throne and knights flanked him. The heroes followed behind.

While they were walking down the winding halls of the palace, the king seemed to have other things to say.

“It always surprises me how the Archons’ Chosens always seem to find help when and where they need it.”

“What do you mean? U-uhm, your Majesty.” Ady caught herself at the last second.

“Hmm, of course you wouldn’t know. You see, last year, there was a mixed horde of Orcs, Trolls and even Onis from the East. They invaded the shore. The army and hired mercenaries clashed with them for two months before the battles ended.”

Alban had vaguely heard about it, because there was a risk of the horde coming westward and hitting the academy. But it ended before that could happen.

“What many don’t know is that this horde was led by a descendent of Kokuou the Undying, the third Overlord. She had been building her strength since her Sire’s passing. As much as it hurts to admit, she was making progress in her invasion. At least until a certain mercenary barged into her stronghold, slaughtered all of the Onis and presented the general’s head to one of my knights in order to be paid. It led to the Trolls and Orcs dispersing once they saw the tide turn.”

All the while, the king’s head had turned towards Ira.

“Wow.” Marigold summed everyone’s thoughts.

For his part, the blue-haired Beastkin shrugged.

“It was easier than you are making it sound like, your Highness. Most of her forces were still in the frontline and she hadn’t inherited the infamous regeneration of her father. I actually doubt she was one of Kokuou’s children.”

“It isn’t what the scout who watched the spectacle said. His report was very clear. We also had people look into your past. The Iron Fang is a name that has been catching some attention in the last two years.”

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Ira offered nothing more to the ruler’s words. It wasn’t the case for Hwarang who suddenly looked like he had a revelation.

“The Iron Fang, you say? I had wondered who was the fanboy going around with a title so similar to mine.” The Hand of Steel said, a grin growing on his face.

“It’s not like I was the one who chose the moniker.” Ira grumbled. His ears flipped and stood straight in agitation.

“Haha.” King Hilltak let out a small laugh. “This banter reminds us of the previous heroes. Maybe it is a good omen.”

Soon, they walked out of the clean halls to arrive at the training grounds. Packed dirt ground, training dummies and knights in shining armors practicing were the expected sight. The practice did stop when they caught sight of the king. The armored men and women quickly formed ranks and saluted.

“My liege! What brings us the honor of your presence?” Exclaimed a man wearing a more decorated version of the Royal Shield silver armor.

“Captain Lloyd Marsh, those are the Heroes, along with a companion of theirs. We know that many want to see what the new generation of Chosens is worth. What better way than to compare them with the elite of the Theocracy?”

“I see. Very well. The Royal Shield knights will be glad to spar with the Archons’ Chosens.” At that, the knights all turned their attention to the six heroes.

“Adeline Forgrange, as the Hero of Fate, why don’t you start?” King Karl’s voice addressing her made the young girl jump.

“Y-Yes, of course!” She walked to a part of the ground that was painted white to delimit the sparring ground. Seeing the greatsword she was wielding, a knight in full plate with a zweihander of his own made his way on the opposite side.

Ady unsheathed her blade from her back and took her stance, her sword pointed at her opponent. The unnamed knight shifted to his own stance, body turned sideways, sword lowered and pointing behind him, ready to swing at any moment.

“Adeline Forgrange, Chosen of Balserion against Viscount Luthor of house Vergrant. Begin!” The Captain made the call the moment they were in their stance.

The now named Luthor made the first move. With a push of his legs, he leaped forwards, his body rotating in tandem with his arms to swing his blade horizontally. Ady responded with a step forwards and a rising slash.

Both greatswords collided. Ady’s sword deflected Luthor’s upward. With a shift of his grip, he brought it back down at the same time as Adeline did.

The blade stuck each other, making the two opponents engage in a sword-lock. The knight in full armor was two heads taller than the young girl, yet she was standing her own with a fair application of Reinforcement.

“Hmm.” From the sidelines, Hwarang rubbed his bearded chin. “She got a good hold of her Essence. Plus the style of her sword…”

“Grossrey’s swordsmanship.” Ira completed the thought. “From the Heavy Arms division, I would say.”

“My thoughts exactly. You really know your stuff.” The elder man looked at the Beastkin with an appraising look.

“I’m also a blacksmith. I became a mercenary to hone both my skills and my craft. It led me to learn about a variety of styles of weapons and the ways to wield them.”

“Both a sword maker and sword wielder?”

“You can only truly know the worth of a weapon after it’s used on the battlefield, after all.” The blue-haired hero responded to the older mercenary.

“Not false.” They then went back to looking at the fight.

The Viscount’s own Essence was surging, a blue aura encasing his body. Ady was on the backfoot, being forced to retreat as her opponent’s strength rose, his swings speeding up.

Yet, she caught a pattern. Once she saw the opening, she rushed in. She stoked her Essence, turning it into fire. Her now fiery blade caught the knight’s mid-swing and mid-step.

“Burst Blade!”

The ensuing explosion made Luthor lose his footing. Stumbling back to not fall, he was not in position to defend against the shoulder bash that followed. He fell on his back, and before he could rise, the tip of Ady’s now flameless sword rested against his chestplate. Everyone knew that she could have driven it through if it had been a real fight.

“Victor, Adeline Forgrange!” Captain Marsh yelled for everyone to be heard. Alban caught guards on the walls whispering to each other. Rumors of the spars between the Heroes and the Royal Shield would spread quickly. He often saw it in the academy, how gossip flowed like stream water.

For her part, Adeline offered a hand up to the knight, who took it to stand up.

“It was a great fight, lady Forgrange. I see that I still have a lot of ground to thread.” The Viscount humbly accepted his defeat.

“No, no. I should be the one thanking you for the experience. It was nice to fight another greatsword user besides my father.” Ady shook her hands from side to side, not being used to praise like that, especially from a noble.

The king clapped, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

“Well done, Lady Forgrange. Now, who is next?”

Alban took a step forward. Now was his time to shine!

“Me! I shall prove my worthiness as Ulgah’s Chosen. Who will face my spells?” The elf was full of confidence.

The one to step up was a man in half-plate. He carried a polearm with a single-edged blade on the top and a red, polished sphere stuck to the bottom. Alban identified it as a Mana crystal used as a focus. So his opponent must have been a mage knight.

As for his own focus, Alban took out a wooden rod from his mage robes. It had a clear sphere attached to it, the wood, encircling it like roots. With a push of his Essence, the wood grew. The bottom part extended until it touched the ground, while the top grew wider. The sphere now hung in a lattice of wood that had grown wider than Alban’s head. The blond elf twirled his staff and stood proud.

“Alban Freenaud, Chosen of Ulgah against Louis Sybald. begin!”

“Flames, devour my enemies! Flame Burst!” The apparently commoner knight chanted. The crystal on his glaive glowed a garnet light, and a cone of fire erupted from his raised hand, obscuring him from sight.

The chant was quite short for such a wide and powerful attack, Alban noted.

“Rise, Mountain Shield.” The elven mage casted. Earth bulged as rocks sprouted from the ground to block the flame tide.

The instant the flames stopped, Alban tapped his staff against his earthen wall.

“Rock Blast.” The rock shield turned into shrapnels that aimed for the mage knight.

“Gather upon my blade, Flame Slice!” Louis swung his weapon. An arc of flame surged and exploded on impact with the rocky projectiles. A cloud of dust and smoke covered the arena.

Alban saw a shape coming from the cloud. The explosion must have covered the sound of the chant. He pointed his staff at it, ready to counter.

Then, Louis jumped from the other side, having cast a simple Fire Ball that he had followed.

Alban dispelled the fire spell, but was surprised by the sudden approach. He had mistakenly thought of this as a fight between mages and not a fight against a knight.

The elf barely jumped in tim to not get skewered, but that left him stumbling.

“I got you!” Louis Sybald was certain of his victory. He swung the shaft of his magic glaive to knock out the mage.

“Eep!”

With a flash of light, the weapon swung through empty air. Louis blinked under his helmet. Where had the elf gone? His head swiveled. He spun on the spot. Still nothing. He noticed that the Hero of War and the blue-haired Beastkin had their heads raised, looking upward. He followed their gaze, and saw the young elf floating in the air.

Alban took deep breaths and straightened himself. It wouldn’t do to look undignified. Sure, he warped on instinct to escape danger, but that was an intelligent tactic. He wasn’t a melee fighter.

Literally looking down on his opponent, he coughed and addressed him.

“Very well, Sir Sybald! You are a worthy opponent! Let me show you why I was allowed to graduate early!” He pointed his staff down, clearly aiming for Louis.

The knight raised his guard, ready to protect himself or dodge at a moment's notice. He also raised the difficulty of the fight in his mind. Fighting a flying foe was always harder than a grounded one.

The next instant he felt pain on his leg, like someone had dropped a hammer on his knee. He had only caught a flash.

Alban saw the panic on Louis’s face and decided to explain.

“My graduation came from my mastery of a certain element. I spent my years in the academy studying the Light element.” A ball of golden light appeared on top of his staff.

“The fastest and strongest element was already mine to wield before the Archon of Mystery blessed me. With Ulgah’s blessing, my grasp on it had only grown stronger.”

The ball of light multiplied. Soon, Alban was surrounded by a swarm of glowing lights.

“Silently casting the Light Arrow spell is but child play.” The elven prodigy huffed proudly.

No one could call it arrogance though. Light was the strongest, fastest and one of the most versatile elements, but it was also one of the hardest to use. And casting silently was a sign of mastery as a caster. Silently casting Light spells was something very few had been able to do, even amongst Heroes who were all blessed with an affinity for the Light by the Archons.

Seeing the dozens of undodgeable spells ready to fire on him, Louis Sybald had but one choice.

“I surrender. I know my limits.”

“Victor, Alban Freenaud!” The Captain once more announced the results of the match. “And Sybald, knowing when you are defeated is good, but we will work on surpassing those limits.” He said in a softer, quieter voice.

The mage knight could only nod to his commanding officer.

The members of the Royal Shield’s demeanors shifted after this second defeat. They needed to take this more seriously. They couldn’t be beaten this easily. Their honor depended on this!