It was finally time for Alaric’s examination. All he wanted was a Copper rank license. Maybe it wasn’t enough to wouldn’t get him everything he needed, like a good enough income or high-profile jobs, but it was still enough to give him the qualifications he needed to go out hunting.

And he wanted to go out hunting for the experience. If he wanted to grow stronger, he would have to fight stronger opponents and test his abilities. He’d managed to grasp the insane endurance he gained from being at the Wood Temper Rank on his run from the Tower of Seekers but now he needed to get more acquainted with his strength, agility and senses… All of this was important if he hoped to get stronger.

According to what the Tower Protectors, Gunther and LionHeart had told him, becoming one with his guardian’s affinity was the key to progressing. He could already tell that his insane experience in the Dance of the Sword had aided him in completely blowing through the Glass Rank. Now, he needed to aim even higher.

“You ready, Alaric,” Daphne called out, “What’s your weapon of choice?”

Alaric nodded, “Sword.”

There was a weapon rack outside the ring. But before he thought of walking to it, Scarlett reached it and tossed him a sword from the rack.

She had that look of curiosity in her eye that made Alaric’s stomach twist. The other examiners had stayed to watch the duel as well. With this large a number, even Jace, the braggart that Alaric didn’t like very much, had stayed to watch. Alaric was somewhat relieved, then surprised by his own reaction, ‘Since when have I wanted attention?’

[ You’re just rattled by the Guild master. You’ll be fine, ] Alia replied with a sigh.

Alaric caught the practice sword tossed at him and turned to Daphne with a determined look. There were many ways he could approach this battle and he didn’t know how much he was meant to hold back. He considered Scarlett’s approach too much, so he aimed lower than that.

[ As if you can pull off an explosion ] his guardian chuckled.

Ignoring her, he pushed everything out of his mind and focused on his target. He gripped the hilt of the blade with both hands and held it forward as this was the best way to protect one’s body when they didn’t know how their opponent would attack.

Daphne sensed a shift in the air and took her stance.

At the same moment, a loud crunching sound filled the air and the examiner’s eyes widened.

Alaric’s heart sank.

The hilt of his practice sword was now in splinters. He’d gripped the hilt of the wooden sword too hard and it had shattered.

“Sorry…” he apologized. He was sure he’d mastered how to calibrate his strength but as it turned out, anxiety threw all his training for a loop.

“What Temper Rank are you?” Daphne asked with suspicion, “Those practice swords are enhanced to handle the strength of anyone within the Glass Rank… unless Superhuman Strength is your Inborn Ability.”

“No, I don’t have Superhuman Strength. I’m at the Wood Rank, Level Two,” Alaric replied nervously, rubbing the back of his head, “Are there any stronger…”

“You’re Wood Temper Rank? We all know that’s impossible. Who do you think we are?” Jace yelled out, “Fail this liar already.”

The mage, Harrow, spoke next, “You might be impressive, Alistair but I agree with Jace on this one. You’re too young to belong to the Wood Temper Rank.”

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Scarlett, however, smiled snidely. “I already checked him out. He’s speaking the truth.”

“Like you would know. Only a higher rank can tell… and Wood Ranks are rare,” the boy was still yelling.

“I’m actually Wood Rank Level Four. Alaric’s not exactly as weak as you are,” the red-haired woman took a jab at the yelling boy. The examiners approached, each of them staring with varied expressions. Alaric could guess that they were appraising him with their Spirit Vessels.

“How, pray tell, did you get to the Wood Rank at your age?” one of the examiners responded. This man was dressed in light armour as well, daggers in holsters at his side, and gave off an air similar to Scarlett’s. He had light blonde hair and almost no presence at all. Alaric believed he was staring at a seasoned Scout.

“The same way anyone would,” Alaric responded.

“Your guardian’s affinity should be a simple one then. What might that be? Cooking?” Harrow chuckled.

Alaric furrowed his brows and turned back to Daphne, “Are there stronger practice swords?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Daphne responded in thought.

Alaric looked around in thought. ‘I could take a crack at reinforcing the…’

[ Just pick up another sword and use that. You’ll have to hold back to keep it from breaking. Using Reinforcement Magic will only increase their curiosity. You’ve shown them too much already. You wouldn’t want them looking into your past now, would you? ] the guardian responded.

Alaric sighed, “Scarlet, could I have another? I’ll be careful with it.”

“Sure thing,” the woman tossed him another practice sword. This time, Alaric held the thing like it was made of glass. Silently, he sent a bit of aether to his hand and cast a bit of Reinforcement magic to the hilt, just enough to make it stronger without alerting everyone of the magic he was using. A young boy of the Wood Temper Rank who was good with a sword and could use magic. That was a profile he wasn’t ready to create just yet.

Daphne smiled, “Right then. Come at me, rookie.”

Alaric shot off like an arrow, speeding straight for the examiner. Daphne’s eyes opened wide at the sudden burst of speed before she switched gears and went on the defensive. Their blades clashed in a ferocious roar of attacks.

Alaric wasn’t aiming for any weak spots at first, pushing the woman more and more to get her to reveal her fighting style. Having used the sword for a long time, Alaric knew many things about swordsmanship than the average person.

With the different variations of the Dance of the Sword he’d learnt, he even knew of the different nuances of many styles of battle.

He noticed how she favoured her right, how she pushed back on her foot just a bit when she wanted to lunge, how she shifted her weight only slightly to give her enough leverage when parrying and setting herself up for a follow-up attack.

Her swordsmanship was… in simple words, beautiful. It was slightly better than LionHeart’s own skill but this was from what little he’d learnt at the pace they were fighting.

“You’re taking it easy on me,” Alaric sighed.

“Perhaps if you weren’t so set on analysing me, I would give you a bit of a challenge,” the examiner chuckled in sync with Alaric.

Alaric would have liked to go all out in this fight but he knew that was the same recipe for breaking the hilt of his sword that he was trying to avoid. So he had to find that sweet spot between going all-out and fighting to his best. He had to rely more on his skill and agility than his strength.

However, before he could act on this plan, his hand rattled suddenly. The force in the examiner’s attack had doubled. “I’ll be taking the lead now.”

Shattered… that’s what happened to his plan. Daphne was done playing on the defensive. Her sword flashed, pommeling his with force enough to push him back. The woman didn’t waste time as she followed him, not willing to give him a moment’s rest.

Her sword came down for him once again, but when it fell, he wasn’t where she thought he was. She gasped. Her sword had missed his body by a hair’s breadth.

There were many ways he could have avoided it… and yet, he’d shifted his body only slightly and allowed the sword to fall right past his side.

Naturally, she had the option of changing the trajectory of her blade and striking his side. She had the strength to pull it off and the means to as well… but no fool would ever dare such a thing when their opponent’s blade was already coming down on their necks.

So what if she hit his side? His blade was going straight for her neck. The body of a Wood Temper Rank was stronger than the average human’s body, which meant not only would her strike to his side be stupid, but it would barely graze him, while his position gave him all the leverage to gather enough strength to completely sever her head.

She was cornered with only one option left. The air shimmered above her head as she bunched the muscles in her legs in preparation to evade the attack.

From a rift in space, a bone scythe rose, cutting Alaric’s sword in half before the entire body of what looked like a cross between a praying mantis and a crab emerged to rescue its master.

Daphne had, by instinct, been forced to summon her guardian.