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Rise of the Archon
Chapter 77: Surrender?

Chapter 77: Surrender?

The proctor looked confused, staring at me silently for several seconds before nodding.

"Understood. Please exit through the far door and make your way to the medical station, where you can be treated for injuries. As a reminder, you are not allowed any contact with any of your team members still participating in the tournament, on penalty of immediate forfeiture."

Nodding, I walked past Arenius and exited the battlefield, feeling his eyes on me the entire way. I did not get far down the hallway before I felt something cold and heavy pass over me. Glancing backward, I saw that he had followed me out, and was staring at me silently, arms folded across his chest.

A minute passed in silence, and I continued feeling the heavy sensation, realizing it was a brute force exertion of his mana, likely an intimidation tactic. Finally, he opened his mouth, asking simply, "Why did you surrender?"

I chuckled, shaking my head before replying, "There was no point in fighting you. My first opponent was caught off guard, and my second was too confident, making mistakes and leaving himself open when his attacks did not work as planned. You would not make such amateurish mistakes. More than that, I am tired, injured, and out of mana."

"Still, a true noble would fight on, for their honor if nothing else. Are you a coward?" he pushed, his face still neutral, and his eyes penetrating.

I smiled, replying, "I am neither a noble nor a coward, sir. But I do not believe in fighting pointless battles or being injured simply to prove a point and defend a nebulous concept like my honor. The battle would have ended in seconds, and there was no purpose in pretending otherwise."

One of his eyebrows raised a fraction, and the corner of his mouth briefly twitched upward. After a second, he nodded slowly, commenting, "Smart. I have always despised undeserved arrogance. Too many feel they can win simply by believing and throwing themselves into battle."

Turning, he paused for another moment before glancing over his shoulder from the corner of his eye.

"Rest, recover, and grow stronger. I look forward to fighting you when you are more of a challenge."

Arenius was an enigma as far as nobility went. He was incredibly talented, good-looking, and intelligent, but was by all accounts a recluse. Any "friends" he had were just allies of convenience, and he rarely, if ever, interacted with any of the other apprentices. In many ways, he reminded me of Sophia, far more concerned with studying and training on his own than making connections. But this was likely a consequence of his family and their reputation.

The Ollas were a disgraced noble family, having slowly deteriorated in wealth and power over the centuries due to weak or ineffective leadership. While they had once carried incredible reach and influence, that was from an era long since passed. They were typically regarded as a lowly noble family in recent years, not deserving of being counted amongst Ferris's higher class.

Judging by his actions and single-minded determination to improve as a mage, I thought Arenius planned to change his family's fortunes for the better. If what I saw today was any indication, I did not doubt that he would succeed. At least, if I could keep Ferris from falling within the next decade to invasion.

At the end of the hallway, I walked through a doorway into a small lobby, where several proctors stood waiting. One, a young adept in her early twenties, smiled at me, saying, "Good afternoon, apprentice. Please follow me, and I will treat your injuries."

I smiled, bowing my head and carefully following her down one hall, passing several dozen doorways. As we walked, she and I conversed quietly.

"We have been watching the tournament as it had been progressing. I have to say, I did not expect many apprentices to jump through a flame spell like that. I must ask what were you planning?"

I debated not answering before settling on a semi-truthful reply.

"His fire magic was diffused, and I suspected that if I concentrated my mana in front of me, I could avoid the brunt of his attack. Truthfully, it was more luck than anything else."

Chuckling, she led me into a room with a bed, a bench, and a large desk in one corner. Turning to me, she scanned me for a moment before saying, "Please remove your clothes, armor, and weapon, so that I might examine you. You may set it all down there."

I felt a blush cross my face, but pushed down my embarrassment and stripped quickly to my underwear, trying to ignore my nudity. For her part, the healer remained professional, dismissing my apparent discomfort and jumping right into her examination. With deft hands, she gently poked and prodded various parts of my body, taking notes as she worked.

"You have several nasty burns on your arms, face, and back, but they should clear up with a salve. I also found several dozen lacerations across your body that will need to be cleaned and wrapped in case of infection. Oh, and you have a mild concussion which will need to be treated with a healing potion." she explained as she worked, grabbing a set of tools from the desk.

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Working with a set of tweezers and a sharp, acrid smelling liquid, she began checking each of my cuts. Many of my injuries were caused by rock and gravel, which needed to be removed and cleaned to prevent infection from setting in, something I would rather avoid. My body could likely fight it off in its improved state, but I was not one for that sort of risk.

After cleaning out each cut, she rubbed a cold, floral smelling ointment on my body before wrapping it in clean white bandages. Slowly, she worked down my body, finally kneeling by my feet and examining my ankle.

"Did someone treat this already? They did a decent job, but I'm afraid the bone in your ankle is misaligned. I have to maneuver it back into place by hand, which will be unpleasant, to say the least. Please, drink this and lay back." she continued, handing me a bottle I recognized as a numbing potion.

Drinking it, I sat for a few seconds before looking down at her and nodding once. Returning the gesture, she pulled and twisted my ankle, and I felt a muted tugging sensation through my leg. From what I knew of resetting bones, I was glad that I had no sense of pain at the moment.

Her work done, the healer stood, placing a dark blue potion on the bed next to me.

"This is a simple healing potion, designed for long term regeneration. Take half of it now, and the rest three days from now. Afterward, get some rest and let the tincture and ointments do their work. Oh, and do not overexert yourself, or these injuries will not heal properly. If you do that, I will volunteer to treat you again, and next time, I won't give you the numbing potion before setting your ankle." she said, a slight warning glare in her eyes.

I smiled, bowing my head, and replied, "I will not, my lady. Thank you."

Nodding, she turned and walked from the room, leaving me alone and in silence. I stared at the door for several minutes before carefully grabbing my pack, which sat beside the bed. Looking around the room, I scanned the space with my senses, finding nothing that suggested any sort of spying magic.

Satisfied that I was safe for now, I reached into the bottom of the bag, feeling for the concealed pouch sewn into the base, courtesy of Espionage, and its lessons. Inside, I had stored a copy of Cortos' array, written across several pieces of paper.

However, this copy was not any ordinary version made for my notes, but specifically made to look distinct. I had gone to great lengths to make the parchment appear old and weathered, and the ink look faded. I had even made sure to use my right hand instead of my left, working carefully to make my handwriting appear unrecognizable.

In short, it should pass a cursory examination and appear as if it was centuries old, exactly as I intended.

I had worked myself half to death trying to help us place high in this tournament, and I had no intention of handing over any valuable prizes I might have earned. Of course, I needed to give the twins something, and what better than notes about an ancient, advanced bit of magic that could help training?

Its advanced, detailed nature meant that it was not fake and that I was not behind its creation. And more than that, it would help both the Esttons grow more powerful and skilled as mages, which would be useful in the long run. I believed I could trust both of them, and when the invasion came, it might be nice to have a few powerful allies on my side.

Of course, I conveniently left out some of the array's details, which should decrease its effectiveness somewhat. I trusted the Esttons, but not anyone else that might stumble upon the technique in the meantime. I planned to live a long life, and empowering potential rivals that might come hunt or challenge me was not the smart idea.

Slipping the pages into another pouch, this one sewn into my shirt, I sat back down against the pillow and closed my eyes, pulling in mana as I actively practiced Iron Forging. Although I had performed well, there was no time for rest if I wanted to survive. And besides that, my Ruined Body method worked by repairing injuries when saturated with mana. There was no point letting a golden opportunity like this go to waste.

As I breathed, I thought over my final battles. What were the odds of facing two brothers, both powerful fire mages, one after the other? Slim at best. And the chances of then fighting none other than the strongest apprentice at the Academy?

Bad luck and coincidences were one thing, but that was too implausible to be just ill-fortune. Someone was pulling strings, setting me up against specific opponents, and manipulating events to force my hand.

But who, and why?

Flynn had the motive to cause me trouble, but there was no way he had the chance to manipulate events to this level. Master Julian was a possibility, but I could not fully understand his motivations for the life of me. He clearly wanted me to grow as a mage, so why would he set me against such a powerful, dangerous opponent who wanted me dead? It was almost as if he wanted me to have to use my full power.

Opening my eyes, I felt something occur to me, something I had almost subconsciously noted but never acknowledged fully until now.

In the third challenge, I had noted that we were almost unusually lucky. After all, we had pieced together a map relatively quickly and not encountered any teams until near the end. For anyone, this would be a remarkable turn of fortunes, and for first-years, even more so. Almost too great, in fact.

Just as we were about to leave, we happened to encounter a powerful fifth-year group, which forced me to use far more of my power and skills than I would prefer. It might just be bad luck, but how was it that we only encountered a single team in such a massive place built for combat? Unlikely, at best.

Then, in the fifth challenge, one of our teammates was eliminated, and I was again forced into a corner. Faced with a potentially severe injury, I had to use a substantial amount of power, more than most first-years would hope to obtain and far more than any commoner should possess. It was a risk that I was willing to take, but it was almost too coincidental that I had to do it in the first place.

During challenges when I had the chance to flourish as an individual, it was as if I was purposefully forced to do so. And more than that, I had been unusually reckless during this tournament, more uncaring and casual with my abilities than I usually preferred. I planned on leaving Ferris, and soon, but this was far different from my typical methods.

Feeling my head throb sharply, and exhaustion beginning to creep into my mind, I sighed before closing my eyes again. I knew something was wrong in this tournament, but mentally or physically, I was in no condition to solve it right now. My best bet was to get some sleep, let my body heal, and try to figure out this particular puzzle when I was more rested.

In the end, it took me only seconds to fall asleep, the events of the past several days weighing down my mind even as I drifted into unconsciousness.