Shortly after the expulsion of Rook from the Adventurer’s Guild
“Are you certain?”
“Positive Viceroy.”
A woman clad in a silky robe and a silver crest grumbled, chewing on the cuticle of her thumb as she considered what she’d heard.
“Our southern border. How many leagues off from the divide?”
“Officially, Viceroy? Thirteen.”
“A dungeon…” The viceroy continued chewing on her thumb for several seconds before nodding. “We can use this.”
“Pardon, madam?”
“The first dungeon in over thirty years. The guild clearing it so quickly suggests… hmm, yes, that is in character for that sly fox, I’m certain.” The viceroy smiled to herself, the expression of one who found themselves cornered by an unexpectedly clever move upon the chess board.
“Ma’am, I’m not sure I follow.”
“That is fine, General. It just appears that Master Heavenward has anticipated our timetable.” The woman returned to chewing on her thumb before raising another finger, a thought coming to her. “Ulsin?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Prepare me a letter.”
“For?”
“I believe it is time to get in touch with some… old friends again.”
“You don’t mean…?” The man raised his eyebrows at his master, suspicions budding.
“Yes, I do.” The woman smiled darkly for a moment. “I believe it has been a while since we’ve shared a table with Regul, don’t you think?”
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Four Years Later, Songhold, the Capital of Haerasong
“With a record of 87-14, our current contending champ of the new year, Wolf Egas!”
The crowd roared in excitement as a shirtless man appeared, the light’s of the arena shining down on him as he made his way toward an enclosed cage.
“And facing off against him, the highly anticipated rematch, circuit champ runner-up of the year prior, Galarus Edimot!”
From the opposite direction of the arena, another man stepped forward into the light, shirtless much as the first man had been. He was a titan of man, standing well over three and a half heads taller than his opponent. Entering the enclosed cage, the titanic man stared down at his much smaller foe.
“Good to see you again, Galarus.” The first competitor winked at the large man, blowing him a kiss as the crowd turned even more frenzied.
“You’re going to die for that, Egas.”
“Hmm.” The first man snorted, raising his wrapped fists as he began to lightly bounce upon the balls of his heels. “We’ll see about that.”
“Final bets have been placed! Now, for the event for which you’ve all been waiting! Let the clash…. Begin!”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
“You’re going to die for that, Egas.” Galarus snarled at me, his ugly mug of a face contorting as he did.
“Hmm.” I snorted, amused by the notion. “We’ll see about that.”
I began to bounce on the balls of my feet, raising my fists as I prepared myself, waiting for the signal to start.
“Final bets have been placed! Now, for the event for which you’ve all been waiting! Let the clash… Begin!”
The moment I heard the go-ahead, I launched forward with as much speed as I could muster, throwing dozens of quick jabs into the large man as I wove in between the thrown punches of the bear of a man.
He’s gotten quicker. Worked on his footwork since last time.
Dodging beneath another thrown fist, I dove forward between his legs before switching into a roll, popping up behind the man. The entire action has been a single interrupted movement, one motion flowing into the next.
“Wolf showing that perhaps he should be called something more appropriate like a monkey with that absurd agility and athleticism. While he may lack the same punching power of someone like Galarus, he more than makes up for it with speed!”
Lacking power. They all say that. If only they knew.
Galarus whirled around, throwing a punch. Rather than avoid it, I caught the fist, twirling my body around it like an acrobat as I used his own momentum against him, tossing him flat upon his back.
“Did you see that! Using Galarus’s arm like a gymnast would the high bar before tossing him with an impossible throw!”
I smiled faintly to myself. The move had taken an incredible amount of balance and core strength; heavens knew I spent enough time upside doing handstands just to perfect my sense of equilibrium enough to pull off such twisty moves midair. Still standing from where I’d tossed Galarus, I waited for the man to stumble back up to his feet.
With a grunt of anger, Galarus stared at me after he rose to his feet, staring veritable daggers at me.
Better than showering me with actual daggers.
I shook my head before the memory could resurface, focusing on the enemy in front of me.
Side feint, jab into an uppercut.
I watched as Galarus swung at me from the side until, at the last moment, he slid his back foot, changing the trajectory and modifying the movement into a forward jab. I stepped out of the way, and from the corner of my eye, I saw his other fist rushing up to catch me in the chin after confirming I would avoid the jab like he had anticipated.
Look at that. He’s learning.
The move was good, but not good enough. His fist was met with my palms overlapping each other, using the upward swing as further momentum to propel me into a flipping vault over the man.
I heard the announcer shouting something in glee, but I was beginning to tune it all out, entering my own headspace as the world around me faded into nothing more than muted suggestions of words.
Breath.
Even Galarus began to fade from my sight as I focused on stilling my heart and slowing my mind. From the stillness, the world changed, mana appearing before my eyes.
Not enough.
To see mana as clearly as I did was already an exceptionally rare skill to master.
But it wasn’t enough.
Breathe.
I strained my perception even further beyond. Pushing my senses until even the physical world disappeared, revealing a world hidden in plain sight.
Find it.
Blind to the physical world, I still danced out of the way as I noticed a disturbance within the flow of mana around me, a slight vibration within the surrounding aura as a weak source of mana disrupted it.
Galarus.
I smiled as I felt a breeze kiss my cheek, confirming that Galarus had been attempting to strike me again.
It was a nice side effect of having grown so keen with my mana perception that even such minor disturbances were enough to alert me to the movement of a magic-less individual. Even lacking in mana reservoirs, the innate mana within all living things was still enough to gently distort the background aura as a person or thing moved through space.
As beneficial as it was to have gained such capabilities, such simple objectives weren’t what I was searching for.
Simple. Hah. When I was younger, I would have gaffed at even the thought, like trying to notice an ant pushing sand around on a beach.
For a moment, I felt the stirring of mana within myself, or more directly, within the rings beneath the linen wrap of my right arm. Part of me wanted to reach out to it, to further enhance my ability to feel the world around me with the veritable trove of mana contained within them.
Well, a trove by my standards, at least.
“But it would do little good for you in the long run.”
Instead, I pushed the feeling aside. It would work, but then I didn’t want it to be easy in the first place.
The words of the long-dead sage echoed throughout my mind.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
The easy path isn’t always the correct path.
With the advice in mind, I focused on finding it entirely through my efforts rather than reaching out through my sage rings to sense the elusive mana I knew was there.
I know you’re out there… C’mon, where are you?
I dodged another strike from the large man, my vision of the world unperturbed even by the violence of the action.
Stillness in action. Action in stillness.
Once, trying to maintain such concentration as I was now, actively engaging in a fight relying solely on my physical abilities while exploring the world hidden within the shadows of everyday life, would have been impossible.
Once upon a time.
Not now, though. Nearly eight years had passed since my early days exploring mana, and in that time, I’d transcended the limits I’d had as a child.
Still fixated on peering through the aura around me, I jumped when I finally found what I was looking for.
It was tiny, a single droplet amongst a pond, a granule of gold in a sand dune.
But it was there.
So pleased was I with finding what I was searching for and so distracted with drawing it to me that I failed to notice the shifting of mana to my side until suddenly I found myself lying flat on my back, the physical world once more playing out before my very eyes, the intensity of the sights and sound nearly blinding after swimming about the muted world of mana.
“Galarus finally lands a hit! Perhaps all that dodging made Wolf complacent, but a hit like that had to hurt!”
“Damnit.” I cursed under my breath before launching myself to my feet, my hands never touching the ground.
Galarus was smugly smiling at me, and the crowd was roaring for blood, but my patience had been worn thin.
Alright, enough.
Rushing forward, Galarus barely had time for the smile to drop from his face before I smashed the palm of my hand into his nose, blood instantly gushing as he staggered back in surprise.
“With a strike to the nose, Wolf goes on the offensive! He may lack in power, but his style of palm strikes and pinpoint jabs circumvents such weaknesses!”
Again, they assume just because I don’t throw punches that, for some reason, I’m weak.
Perhaps it was in my annoyance at being disrupted, my own fault, as I’d purposely made it a point of doing it during battle, but I lost hold of my usual sensibilities.
Before I knew what I was doing, I had circulated mana through my body, my palms pressed one against the other, one hand pointed up while the other was pointed toward the ground. Galarus lumbered toward me; the lumbering oaf was unaware of what was coming. Stepping in close, my downward-facing hand thrust forward, catching the giant of a man in the sternum and launching him across the arena as he crashed limply against the cage.
Whoops.
The ravenous crowd and boisterous announcer were silent, eyes bulging, and jaws slackened as they processed what I’d just done.
Maybe I got a little carried away.
Mana rotation was, in many ways, not altogether unlike my standard method of utilizing mana to fight, pushing my muscles into a constant activation, an energization or superstate, if you will.
Mana rotation was a refinement of that. My tried-and-true fighting style had been revitalized just the year prior when I’d discovered a scroll from overseas on the martial arts philosophies of Thlahzae.
Now, I won’t pretend I was exactly versed in martial arts. To begin with, in Haerasong, non-magical military prowess came from sword fighting, born of one of the three major schools of swordplay. Swift Sword in the north, Brutal Sword from the desert, and the defensive Shield Sword of the south. What martial arts that did exist aside from the usual sword fighting had been founded around nothing more than educating new recruits in essential physicality. Effectively glorified workouts with little practicality in a real fight. Ignorant of the world of true martial prowess, I had ignored it when I’d first spotted the scroll within the Grand Library, assuming it was nothing more than thinly veiled spiritual jargon.
But eventually, I found myself returning to that scroll, checking it out from the library and pouring over the contents.
Without a proper master to guide me forward in my path, I had found myself turning to inspiration from an extensive list of differing sources, forging my own path if I couldn’t receive direct guidance. From the scroll I’d studied, written by the monks of Thlahzae, they had preached for ‘equalized chaos’ or, more eloquently put-
‘Through chasing order with chaos, and chaos within the order contained inside the confines of one’s own spiritual energy, it gives rise to stillness in action, and action through stillness.’
While I had never bought into the idea of some voodoo ‘spiritual energy’, the concept of using constant motion and controlling that motion in the same way you would your own breathing was intriguing.
So, fast forward six months of diligent trial and error, and mana rotation was born.
I’ll be honest. While mana rotation had proven to be… quite effective, I still wasn’t sure why exactly. All that really mattered was that it was. It was good enough for me, and perhaps one day, I would investigate it further, but I had several more important things to consider.
First and most importantly was the issue of my fourth sage ring. With the aid of the mana matrix I’d been given years ago, I was confident that I would be capable of manifesting the ring at any point should I please. Still, before I did, I wanted to maximize its potential, which required a deeper insight into mana than I currently had.
The next issue, perhaps more immediately pressing, was that back in the present, Galarus was still unmoving.
Shit.
I held my breath, thoughts no longer enraptured by the intrigues of mana but the fear that I had accidentally killed the mana. A palm strike utilizing mana rotation would be enough to kill the average person in a single hit; the concussive force delivered would be like a localized explosion of energy inside a person’s body, internal organs reduced to fleshy gelatin.
And without thinking, I had delivered just such a strike to Galarus.
Shit.
It wasn’t until a minute later that I breathed a sigh of relief, the man finally moving, slumping down before rolling over onto his back.
Oh, thank the gods.
I wasn’t about to be accused of murder.
Again.
To be fair, news of it never got past the camp last time.
I hadn’t struck with the intent to kill, and while I had utilized mana rotation to deliver the strike, it had only been for a singular instant of explosive power, which, combined with the pure bulk of Galarus, had kept the man from dying.
Probably still going to want to see medical attention as soon as possible.
The dazed silence over the arena tentatively broke as the announcer’s voice spoke up.
“And… there you have it. With a strike of power we’ve never seen from Wolf before, he downs Galarus in a single hit!”
The crowd, unsure at first whether they had just witnessed manslaughter, finally began to cheer, albeit with some hesitancy.
Right. I looked around before my eyes locked upon a figure standing just out of sight from the arena visitors inside the tunnel leading to my locker room. Best be going.
Quickly exiting the cage, I threw a few practiced waves at the crowd before hurrying back into the tunnel’s darkness, entering a small, dimly lit room where a lone figure sat on a bench, one leg crossed over the other.
“Rook” She crossed her arms, the only reaction upon her face a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Maeya.” I acknowledged the woman, my agent.
“Quite the show out there.”
“I might have overdone it a bit.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, smiling meekly.
“You think?” She sighed, huffing out in exasperation. “You’ve gone and ruined the betting. The Ring Dons aren’t going to be happy about that.”
“Yeah, they can tell me about it personally if that’s the case.” I shook my head as I opened a locker, grabbing my clothes out from it.
“You’re perhaps the only person I’ve met who doesn’t seem to care at all about the thought of offending the Dons like they don’t scare you in the least.”
“That’s because they don’t scare me,” I answered, discarding my shirt and pants as I made my way to the shower, rinsing myself off, Maeya unphased by my nudity.
“Yes, yes, I’m the only one in this city aware of your history. I get that. Still, not even the slightest hesitation?”
“Meh.” I shrugged my shoulders as I scrubbed at my hair, rinsing the chalky residue of the arena mat out from it after I had been knocked down.
“They could turn that annoyance on me. You do realize that, correct?” Maeya questioned. The flatness of her voice was clearly at odds with the notion that she was at all worried about such potential occurrences.
“Maeya, you’re the daughter of one of the Dons. I can promise you that you’re likely on the list of people the other dons would last want to mess with.”
“And who else do you believe would be on that list?” She asked me, her off-handed curiosity surprising me.
“Well, off the top of my head.” I looked down at my hand, listing them off one by one. “Immediate family of other dons, of course, anyone related to the royals, adventurers grade nizeium and above, oh, and the Eorials, of course.”
“The Eorials.” Maeya sighed again. “They may as well be a part of the dons themselves.”
“Ears and eyes everywhere tend to do that,” I confirmed, briefly recalling the image of a young Eorial girl I had met nearly eight years ago.
“Well, whether you fear the dons or not, this will concern you.”
“Oh?” I questioned, turning the shower faucet closed as the water cascading around me dried up instantly.
The marvels of mass-produced commercial grade artifices.
“Yeah. Since that little… ‘display,’ if you will, will spread like wildfire around the circuit. People still bet against you while you only had the moniker of being a quick but meager hitting fighter. Now that you’ve shown you’re quick and can launch bears around with about as much effort as it would take to toss a kid-”
“Why would you ever toss a kid?” I interrupted, but Maeya ignored the comment.
“-no one is going to want to bet against you anymore. Betting will go nowhere when you’re involved, meaning that your cut of the pie is going to evaporate to nothing.”
My blood froze as the icy talons of fear grasped my heart within their callous hands.
“Are you saying I won’t get paid?” I whispered, horror dripping from my words.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Maeya confirmed.
I rushed forward, grasping her shoulders, as I locked eyes with her as I desperately pleaded.
“Please, you have to help me out,” I begged. “You know that I need that money.”
“Considering just how much money you take away from this all, it does concern me how you’re still somehow broke.”
I bit my lip as I averted my gaze.
What should I tell her? I spend it all as soon as I get it?
Just a few years ago, I had found myself with far more money than I needed, barely spending any on anything other than equipment replacements. After being expelled from the adventurers’ guild, I’d come to Songhold, no idea where else to go. No longer preoccupied with adventuring, I had found myself searching for other ways to distract myself. It wasn’t long after that I found myself purchasing interesting documents, records on different theories, magical practices, or even stories, anything to fill the void.
Over time, this developed into a debilitating addiction to purchasing rare and exotic literature, my house crammed with old texts and scrolls of all but forgotten history or specialty signed novels.
Turns out, those are all very expensive.
“Hmm.” Maeya pondered my pleading cries, her fingers drumming the bench, before finally, she uncrossed her legs, fixing me with a look. “Fine, I’ll do something about it.”
“Thank you.” I sighed in relief.
“On one condition.”
“Eh?” I raised my head again, Maeya now smirking lightly, the expression making me uneasy. “And that is?”
Still smirking, her gaze traveled down my body before locking onto… my lower region, reminding me that I was, in fact, still naked.
“Oh,” I answered, my stomach sinking further as I understood the implication.
“Bottle of wine, my place.” She nodded as she stood up, making her way out of the locker room. “Oh, and try not to be late this time.”
And then she was gone.
Sitting upon the same bench she had been seated upon, I rubbed at the corners of my eyes with my thumbs, sighing.
Damnit Rook.
Maeya was conventionally pretty, so most would have been thrilled at the thought, the ‘demand’ almost a reward, or so I tried to tell myself.
But.
My gut rolled at the thought.
Get over it. You’re a lucky guy.
This has been our dynamic since shortly after I’d met her, she helped me with my goals, and I… ‘helped’ her in return. It was something I had to do.
Or so I convinced myself and reminded myself whenever she ended up ‘asking’ me to pay her a visit.
I pushed down the queasy feeling in my gut. As uncomfortable as it made me feel, I needed her; she was the only connection I had within the city for my true objective.
Finding my mother.
Four years, and in four years, I hadn’t received a single further letter from her. Maeya was my best option, and while the Eorial family would have been anyone’s first choice, anyone with a shred of common sense knew that the Eorials made it a point of not just investigating the target of a person’s commission but their clients as well. All I needed was for them to get their hands on the information of my history and sell it off to the highest bidder, for my life to take a turn for the complicated.
Maeya ended up the next best thing. She helped me between searching for information regarding my mother and set me up with gigs to keep food on my table. Even if the thought of spending nights with her made my stomach queasy, I had to move forward and put up with it until I found my mother.
“Damnit,” I grumbled, changing quickly before I slammed the locker shut and made my way toward the exit.
Regardless of my thoughts on the situation, I would make the best of it. Marching out of the locker room, I made for the arena’s exit, intending to flag down a rickshaw.
After all, I had a bottle of wine to track down.