It was perhaps the first time Gunther’s mind had ever gone through so much information in his life… almost as though his life was flashing right before his eyes.

The stalwart knight of the Tower of Seekers was at Wood Temper Rank Level Seven, severely outclassing his larger colleague who had bottlenecked at Level Three.

However, something had changed on the day they met a certain boy with black hair and mesmerizing green eyes not to mention the fact that LionHeart had broken through to Level Four after being stuck for so long.

Alaric was a passive boy who, more times than Gunther would have liked, showed little to no reaction to things happening around him. It was only when what was happening around Alaric had something to do with his friends that he allowed himself to get riled up. Of course, this was not something he probably did intentionally.

It was just that his mind was so divided that he probably did not know that he wasn’t expressing himself as much as a normal person would have. This was also the tell-tale sign the knights had used to recognize who the magic spells that were randomly creating barriers around them were coming from.

It was unusual for an orphan who’d not yet been appraised to know magic… but this wasn’t enough to sway Gunther’s opinion of the boy. His passive nature just rubbed him the wrong way.

As if that wasn’t annoying enough, Gunther had to go and notice some other peculiar detail about the boy. This had to do with the way the environment changed in response to Alaric’s mood.

Being at the Wood Rank meant he had a potent Spirit Vessel… and the more potent one’s spirit vessel was, the more sensitive they were to powers that imposed their will on the world around them.

Alaric wasn’t even at the Glass Rank… and yet, the world reacted to him. Not because he was imposing his will on it… but simply because he existed and the world… acknowledged it. That kind of control was not freely given… It had to be earned. So naturally, this frustrated him.

Not many were clever enough to notice and understand just how deeply entangled the world was with Alaric’s emotions. Someone who was extra vigilant could notice that even his slightest whims caused tremors in the wind. Something was up with Alaric and Gunther didn’t like it.

It got worse when LionHeart started ‘worshipping’ him. Alaric had gone further to perform a truly rare feat and had spoken with LionHeart’s guardian, Aslan. Together, they came up with a punishment for the mere act of insulting the boy.

This should have angered LionHeart… and yet the man grew infatuated with the boy. Just how dumb did one oaf have to be?

Farrow, Gunther’s guardian, however, had warned him against doing something similar, claiming it wouldn’t be good if they got on the wrong side of Alaric’s powers.

‘How could someone this unresponsive, weak and insignificant amount to any power, to begin with?’ it irked him… which was why he wasn’t entirely against the idea of battling the boy.

Alaric was an anomaly. One that had managed to completely jump the Wood Temper Rank like it was nothing. This, along with several other things, didn’t add up about the boy. Gunther’s curiosity was so great he could barely contain it.

He had, however, mentioned that his guardian had a great affinity for battle. If there was any truth to that, then this whole situation was more than worth it.

[ Sigh You’re smarter than this, Gunther ] Farrow, Gunther’s guardian’s voice echoed through his mind, [ Alaric’s guardian is a female knight capable of speech. Her presence requires the summoning of an S-class Concealment Barrier and even then, she makes you want to bow your head in her presence. Why in the Thirteen Constellations would her master be weak? ]

“Start!” LionHeart’s voice rang across the clearing.

Nothing in Gunther’s wildest imagination could have prepared him for the attack that was suddenly in front of him. The man gasped and raised his hands as fast as he could. His blood ran cold and his heart sank, ‘When?’

Alaric had crossed the distance separating them in an instant before everything slowed down enough for him to remember he was supposed to protect himself.

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‘Crap.’

Gunther raised up his hands to block the attack but then, his entire being shook. His mind sped up even more and everything else slowed down in time for him to realise his hands would not be enough to protect him from the calamitous force contained in the boy’s fist.

[ Layer your Spirit Vessel ] his guardian hurriedly warned.

[ I know ] the man grunted, summoning the power of his Spirit Vessel.

The structure of his Spirit Vessel deformed to create two more layers on top of his hands as a dull pain shot through the man’s body in recoil to having his Spirit Vessel deformed this much.

Malforming his Spiritual Vessel this much was ill-advised as it was strenuous and left the rest of the body thinly protected… but all of Gunther’s instincts told him to add even more protection to his already enhanced guard.

Alaric’s fist slammed into the ‘X’ his arms had formed with explosive force that sent him back two metres. A red bruise instantly formed on Gunther’s forearms.

Alaric stopped and looked at his fist curiously, then looked back at the man, “What Temper Rank are you?”

“Wood Rank Level Seven,” Gunther responded.

Alaric shivered, “Okay…”

The boy’s confidence wavered upon hearing he was battling someone five whole levels above him not to mention far more experienced. He had no business challenging Gunther to a proper duel. Still…

‘What did he do to his hands?’

[ He protected himself with his Spirit Vessel. You’ll learn how to do it, too ] Alia quickly informed Alaric.

[ Right… ] Alaric switched gears. There was no use in dwelling on a concept that was still out of his reach. Time was of the essence.

The boy blurred from vision again, appearing before the man. This time, however, his fists struck nothing completely. Gunther was moving now, and he wasn’t about to allow the boy to hit him again.

Alaric’s mind moved beyond the miss as his eyes scanned for the man’s position. His feet moved to match his retreating speed.

The last attack had counted as a hit considering how far it had pushed him… and if the boy could pull off attacks like that repeatedly, then there was no logic in letting them land knowing they would still count.

So while Gunther had to evade, Alaric had to attack without giving him time to recover. With that conclusion formulating Alaric’s solid strategy, he dug into his knowledge of Dance of the Sword and shot across the battlefield with the relentlessness of a cheetah.

The pair zipped across the field in a chaotic dance with Gunther always a single step ahead of Alaric, sidestepping, leaping back and sometimes even leaping high up just to avoid the boy’s neverending barrage of attacks.

The first minute went by without another hit. The tension in the spectators shifted. After the first hit, Gunther’s supporters experienced miniature heart attacks.

Now, it seemed the man was holding his own, which shifted the tension to those on Alaric’s side.

Gunther cursed the conditions of the battle considering he wasn’t allowed to hit the child unless it was to defend himself… and even then, he wasn’t allowed to hit him too hard.

‘He lacks experience and has too many openings. Still, though, there is monstrous strength behind those fists. It’s hard to believe they are from a Wood Rank Level Two,’ the slayer observed.

As the second minute droned on, there was a subtle change in the clearing… prompting a devious smile from LionHeart. ‘Now things are getting interesting.’

Gunther tilted his body and dodged another punch but then, he watched the boy’s body twist and follow through with a choreographed kick.

Gunther’s eyes opened wide as his eyes locked with Alaric’s green eyes. The boy’s eyes had caught up to him. He was adapting in the middle of the battle.

Gunther dodged the lethal kick, only for the boy to pivot and deliver another kick with his heel. This attack connected with Gunther’s side, throwing him to the side several meters.

Not giving time to observe the difference between the potency of defence with Spirit Energy and that without Alaric was above the man, chaining his attack with the ferociousness of a raging waterfall.

Gunther gritted his teeth and darted out of the way. This time, he continued moving, dodging one attack after the next with a lot of strain. ‘His openings… they’re vanishing…’

His side hurt like hell and the boy’s flurry of attacks became more rapid and accurate. The period between attacks drawing shorter and shorter.

The skill required to efficiently chain attacks without having to reorient oneself was immense and it got even more tasking when one fought to reduce the time between attacks.

Alaric, however, just kept going like a machine on steroids, each attack holding as much energy as the last. The most interesting thing that seemed to be happening, however, was that the energy in every attack that missed should have been wasted, was instead worked into the next one, compounding the energy to send the boy shooting forward like an inevitable whirlwind of death.

“Oi oi! Why does that fighting style look a lot like that stupid Dance of the Sword he keeps talking about?” one of the spectating men gasped.

“The Dance of the What?” LionHeart asked with curiosity.

“The Dance of the Sword. Those kids used to talk about it a long time ago. Apparently, it’s how they were taught to fight by Alaric’s guardian. It’s basic swordsmanship with a bit of a… dance to it,” the man shrugged.

LionHeart didn’t reply to this comment not because he didn’t find it funny but because he was struggling to comprehend how Alaric was able to fit so much fluidity into his movements. He looked like a machine trained for the sole art of killing.

‘Isn’t he supposed to be unsteady at this new height?’ the man wondered.

His guardian replied with a chuckle, [ What are you talking about? He is very unstable. ]