As soon as I stepped off the bright sand of the arena into the under-stand facilities, a servant darted towards me, barely visible against the stark light contrast. Keeping my image, I silently and with dignity handed him the broken spear. To the young servant's credit, he accepted the remaining part of the shaft as if it were a whole, even ready for combat, weapon.
"Take me to the room with my belongings," I ordered.
No more fights involving me were planned for today, so I didn't want to stay in the clothes provided by the alchemists, especially since everything was dirty after such a lengthy duel. On Earth, I would have gone for a shower now, but in Ain, such a luxury was impossible, and I was glad just to change into something clean.
The servant led me to the room and used the amulet hanging on his belt chain to remove the security seal from the door. After that, he bowed deeply and gestured for me to enter.
Taking off the dirty tournament uniform, I threw it into a corner. That's how things were done here if you needed to do laundry. I sniffed: just as I thought, I smelled quite strongly of sweat. From the local point of view, a light such an odor was nothing to be prejudiced about, but I was far from "lightly" scented now. There was a jug of drinking water in the room, but I used this water for an unintended purpose. I wet a relatively clean piece of tournament clothes and wiped my body. It was not a shower, of course, but as they say, "beggars can't be choosers."[1] If I had water magic at least a little above the minimum level, the water in the drinking jug would have been enough to freshen myself up fully. But, since I wasn't planning on spending my time mastering other Elements, except Lightning, I'd have to put up with some everyday inconveniences in the future. Inconveniences that could be solved using other schools of Magic. Nevertheless, when I left the changing room, I smelled quite acceptable. And one could detect the smell of my sweat only by being a couple of steps away and activating the Aura of Perception.
I asked the servant waiting at the entrance to have my tournament clothes laundered for tomorrow's fights and then ordered him to lead me to the stands. On the way to the spectator seats, one of the middle-level tournament organizers caught up with me and asked if I needed a weapon change right now or if it could wait until tomorrow. Pretending to think for a bit, I said that I didn't plan to train with the tournament spear today, so this issue could wait until the next day. My answer clearly pleased the organizer. Apparently, there was no weapon in the Arena's arsenals that was completely identical to the broken one. And according to the tournament rules, in case of loss of armament, the replacement should be an exact copy of the lost one. With my answer, I gave the organizers time to make this copy calmly rather than hustling and running around solving an urgent and unexpected problem.
Before leaving the under-stand premises to the stand, I briefly stopped and prepared for a sharp change in lighting. After that, I took a step forward. As I expected, my appearance in the sector immediately attracted everyone's attention. And this attention was important for me to track. Had anything changed in the looks cast at me after the show I had staged, or was it all in vain? While following the servant to my assigned bench, I maintained an indifferent facial expression, but in fact, I was observing the reaction of those around me.
Perhaps I was imagining things, but people indeed seemed to look at me differently than before. Now they "knew" that I had very noticeable flaws, not just hypothetical or assumed ones. Such as an excessive love for theatricality and fear of losing face. And, most likely, many thought: "If there are such flaws, there must be others, which means this Raven is not as strong as he wants to show." In principle, this is something I was aiming for by playing out my duel with Takr Budar. And now, I just hope that this change in the perception of me will affect the betting odds.
Of course, by having such a long battle, I involuntarily revealed some of my abilities that I had not shown before. Undoubtedly, I gave plenty of material for fight connoisseurs to analyze. But there aren't many such connoisseurs who could determine my real level based on what I demonstrated. Besides, I don't think they will share their findings with others. Everyone strives to earn more for themselves and is not eager to make strangers happy. And it's not them, but the crowd of thousands, in which every other person considers themselves an unparalleled fight analyst, who primarily influence the betting odds.
Taking the seat offered to me, I worked hard to pretend I didn't notice the curious glances thrown my way, calmly allowing everyone who wanted to get a good look at me. In the changing room, I had fixed myself up, corrected my hairstyle, and now I was confident that I looked, if not one hundred percent, then ninety-five out of a hundred for sure, making exactly the impression I needed. When you're dealing with unfamiliar people, this external impression is the foundation of how they will treat you.
Besides, the attention to me was not too long-lasting. The lead steward announced the next pair of fighters, and everyone turned toward the arena. The upcoming fight was of interest to me too. Primarily because it was on its outcome that Aun was supposed to place his bet. I was even a bit nervous, as I was not entirely confident in my analysis of Tayan Quarish's abilities. What impressed me most about him was not his command over three Elements but how he wielded his staff. In my opinion, perhaps he was just slightly short of three full Talent Stars, but he confidently hit two and a half. This aspect, along with a really decent for his rank arsenal of diverse spells, made him, again - from my point of view, the strongest remaining participant in the Bronze grid of the Tournament. The strongest after me, of course.
But I had watched too few fights involving Tayan and was not completely confident in my conclusions. Besides, a fight is always a fight; by definition, there's an element of unpredictability. There are plenty of examples of even the most reliable favorites losing. I was almost one hundred percent confident in myself and in Ronin, but Tayan Quarish did not inspire such certainty in me. Nevertheless, I took a risk and bet my money on him. That's why I was now mentally berating myself for the displayed greed and was a bit nervous, watching the duel unfolding on the sand.
The self-taught mage was fighting a classic swordsman. And this swordsman proved to be a decent fighter, relying on speed and agility rather than strength and endurance. This was a rather unpleasant opponent for a Bronze-ranked mage, especially considering the limited space of the arena itself. But, to my relief, Tayan Quarish clearly knew what to counter such an opponent with. He used area spells to rob his opponent of maneuverability and then forced him into an unprepared attack. Then he took advantage of this, delivering a swift counter-thrust and ending the duel with a single blow.
The fighting style demonstrated by Tayan indeed had one, but a very significant drawback. You could even say it was critical. By the end of the duel, his Core was likely close to exhaustion, as large spells require a tremendous amount of energy to implement. If the swordsman had been smarter, he could have tried to prolong the fight and then take down the mage practically with bare hands, as even magical exhaustion of the Core also leads to physical fatigue. But he didn't guess and lost. But what if he had guessed? During this duel, I literally felt how close my money was to flowing into someone else's hands.
When the referee announced Tayan Quarish as the winner, I was focused on not showing the surrounding people my inner relief. I never liked losing money. It's one thing to spend on necessary things - I've never suffered from excessive greed in this matter, and quite another thing if these are financial losses due to the desire to get more gold.
My gaze fell on Paravi Malik, sitting three rows in front of me. And judging by the tension in the girl's back, I realized that she was noticeably nervous. This brought an involuntary smile to my face. Because the favorite of the audience was tense for a reason. Her fighting style was poorly suited for confronting a mage specializing in area spells. Paravi's style was based on pressuring with constant attacks and well-executed blocks. Both are easily countered by area spells. Judging by the beauty's reaction, she understood this perfectly and clearly did not want to meet the mage of the three Elements in the next round. However, a quick glance she threw at me made it clear that she even less wanted to cross paths with me in battle. I think the girl understood that she had gone a little further than she could have hoped for based on her real skills, and this made her even more anxious.
Raising my gaze, I saw the Day Sister floating at an unreachable height and sent her a prayer to have the lead steward pair Paravi and Quarish in the next round. What if it comes true? As far as I "remember," Dairin
was favorably disposed towards those chosen by her Sister, which was also true in the opposite case. So perhaps my prayer will be heard after all.
Thoughts about the two Sky Sisters turned my mind in another direction. I still haven't solved the problem with Seguna's Echo's displeasure. And this wasn't a problem you could just dismiss. And it would be good to solve it sooner. Yet, even though I roughly imagined how to earn the forgiveness of the Night Sister in theory, how to realize this in practice without major risks, material or time losses, I still could not imagine.
The "simplest way" to alleviate the Night Sister's displeasure was to formally insult Antares' symbol. Not a casual symbol, like someone's drawing on a wall, but a True one, for example, the Sun altar in the Temple of Tries. However, I sincerely considered such an act an excessive risk and wanted to find another solution to the problem. The trouble was, I couldn't find any. All other ways that could change Seguna's attitude towards me were orders of magnitude more complicated, such as a pilgrimage to the Five Altars of Shadow. No, I will visit these five altars anyway one day, at least within the scope of the personal task given to me by the questers. But it takes time and a lot of it, and I wanted to remove this debuff faster and gain access to the Shadow spells.
I was so engrossed in these thoughts that I watched the next duel, as they say, with "half-closed eyes." And probably in vain because the one who won was not the fighter I considered the stronger. But that was not very important because apart from Quarish and, to some extent, Paravi, there were no difficult opponents left for me in the Bronze set of the Tournament.
My gaze smoothly shifted from Dairin to the arena and back as if following my thoughts. And in one such transition, I noticed what I should have noticed long ago. Namely, the staff held in the hands of the lead steward, with which he blessed the beginning of each fight. The tip of this staff and the glow that emanated from it – all clearly indicated that this artifact was dedicated to Antares. And if this is not just an artifact, but a Truly Blessed one, carrying in itself the "memory" of the time when the gods had not yet Fallen, then...
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I immediately came up with a plan on how to get rid of Seguna's displeasure. However, to do this, I need to win the Tournament. But I was already planning to do that, so my idea did not stand out from the general plans. All that remains is to find out whether the Truly Blessed artifact of Light is in the hands of the steward or just a human craft, albeit a very powerful one. Finding out such detail is usually not that easy if the owner of the artifact does not want to show it. But in my case, because of the Affinity with Light that I received, this question was solved quite simply. At the next draw, I need to stand closer to the lead steward and "reach out" to his artifact. And if the Light in it is not man-made but Blessed, it will respond to my Affinity.
While I was pondering this topic, another duel ended, concluding the Bronze grid fights for today. After a very short break, during which I only managed to ask the servant to bring me a jug of fruit drink, the steward announced the start of the Steel fights. This announcement caused noticeable excitement in the stands. Many people came to the Arena today just for this spectacle, and I found it quite understandable. Because the higher the rank of the Core of the participants, the more diverse the techniques, spells, and styles used in the duels. Therefore, from a spectator's point of view, such fights were more attractive to the majority of the audience.
To me, these fights weren't as attractive as they were to most of those sitting in the stands. This was because the opponents in the Steel grid were relatively evenly matched. From the perspective of spectacle and unpredictability, this was great for the Tournament, even splendid. However, I was looking for opportunities for safe bets, and this fact was more disappointing for me. I couldn't risk singling out any of the fighters and putting my money on them. Even the naval officer, who was considered a Steel grid favorite, didn't make a strong impression on me. He stood out more for his real combat experience than for any unique skills or spells. Yes, actual experience is quite a lot, and the naval officer was winning so far, but none of his victories were, so to speak, "confident." He won this time, too, but did so while sustaining a severe injury. So severe that only half an hour later, the representatives of the Alchemists' Guild, after long discussions with the priests of Ishia, announced whether he would be able to continue to perform further. The verdict was that he would, and this caused a loud and prolonged ovation from the stands. From my seat, I evaluated the naval officer's injury as serious. I'm sure the alchemists had to dig through their stock and use very rare and expensive elixirs to get the fighter back on his feet in such a short time. Even so, without the help of Ishia's adepts, even such an influential Guild couldn't heal a severed clavicle, a broken shoulder, and a wide wound on the side in less than a day. After that, I finally became convinced that the naval officer wasn't playing any games to downplay his abilities in order to earn on bets as I did. Apparently, he gave it his all in each of his duels.
Continuing to watch Steel fights, I was still hoping to find a "dark horse" to bet on without much risk. And I also started to get a bit nervous because, according to my calculations, Aun should have appeared nearby almost an hour ago, but he was still nowhere to be seen.
When the Steel grid fights reached their equator, I seriously thought about going and looking for the boy. But before these thoughts could turn into actions, I noticed a familiar figure at the entrance to the sector and barely held back a noticeable sigh of relief.
Even before Aun sat next to me and opened his mouth, I already knew that he was fine and nothing terrible had happened. Knowing the boy's character, I didn't ask him about anything; I just nodded to acknowledge his arrival and left it at that. Aun fidgeted on the bench for a couple of minutes, then leaned towards me and whispered:
"I've found out something... Curious!"
I knew this right away from his sparkling eyes and slightly jittery gestures. Sometimes it seems this guy doesn't need to eat, and gossiping could sustain him just as well.
"Go on." I nodded, barely holding back a smile.
"So, there I was, standing in a small line to the bookmakers to collect our winnings from Tayan Quarish's victory when I got this strange feeling..." The lad flicked his fingers through the air. "It's like you're missing something. At first, I got a bit tense, thinking, 'Is there an assassin creeping up on me in the crowd?' but that wasn't it. My turn came, and I still couldn't figure out what was wrong?! Everything seemed normal, just as usual, but my intuition was nagging me, drumming into my head that I had missed something." I was familiar with this sensation, so I nodded, showing that I understood what the boy was talking about. "And... And I was right!! Remember my cousin who works here at the Arena?"
"I do."
"Well, my intuition didn't fail me! My cousin was in the same line, but I didn't recognize him at first because he was disguised and even used some illusion magic."
"So an Arena worker is secretly placing bets on fights and doesn't want to be recognized?" I asked for clarification.
"There's usually no betting ban for the employees," Aun explained. "But the Alchemists, it turns out, have imposed a betting ban for the workers during their tournament."
"And despite the ban and the big risk, your cousin is still placing bets? And you said he's not really into gambling?"
"Yes, that's correct; he's not into gambling." Aun nodded, looking even more pleased.
"So, what prompted him to do it?" I was genuinely curious.
"Well, I signaled to him that I recognized him, and when we stepped aside, I pressured him." The boy was literally beaming with self-satisfaction. "He denied everything at first, telling some fables, but I managed to get the truth out of him..."
"Get to the point. Who did he bet on and why?" I asked the question that was most interesting to me in this story.
"Just like us, he bet on Tayan Quarish!" The boy's smile was very satisfied.
I, on the other hand, silently cursed because I had hoped to gain some insider information about a fighter who had slipped past my attention. I had already bet on Quarish, so I didn't share Aun's joy and satisfaction.
"And what ultimately prompted your cousin to place this bet?" Nonetheless, Aun had made an effort, and I had to reward him with my curiosity, which I did.
"It turns out that my cousin and Tayan Quarish live on the same street, literally a house apart. And..." The boy paused dramatically, and I played along, raising an eyebrow. "And it turns out... Quarish isn't self-taught like everyone thinks. Half a year ago, Kiim Siidjon himself took notice of him!" Aun fell silent as if this explained everything.
"I'm not local," I said, tilting my head and smiling.
"Oh... Yes!" The boy realized. "Kiim Siidjon is the head of the magical conclave of Tries! An Avalonium rank mage!"
"Took notice, meaning he took him as a disciple?" I asked; this would explain Quarish's excellent spellcasting technique.
"Yes! He took him as a disciple, but he did it secretly."
"Secretly? Why all the complications?" I didn't quite understand.
"Kiim Siijon is teaching Tayan Quarish for free, and if his other disciples, who mainly come from very wealthy and influential families, find out..."
"Who pay a lot of money to learn from such a master..." I interjected.
"It will become very awkward." Aun, like a wound-up toy, began to nod, happy that he was being understood.
"So you were delayed because of that? Nothing else happened?" I clarified, just in case.
"My conversation with my cousin was long; he was very reluctant to share what he knew." The boy nodded. "But when he found out that I was betting on Tayan anyway, he told me everything." The young man diverted his gaze from the fight happening in the arena and looked at me with even more respect than usual. "Master, how did you understand Tayan Quarish's real abilities?!"
"Experience," I answered succinctly.
"Master, are we going to continue betting on Tayan Quarish?" Seeing my nod, the young man continued. "And I shouldn't tell anyone about what I found out today."
"Correct," I nodded again, but then raised my index finger and continued, "with one exception..."
"Exception?" Aun didn't understand me, but since I didn't explain, he pondered for almost half a minute, then his eyes sparkled, and he began to babble. "The exception is if the draw pits Tayan Quarish against you, Master? Am I right?"
"Exactly. And when that happens, you, standing in line at the bookmakers, will share this information with the person next to you as an 'utmost secret'."
"That won't be very nice." The boy scrunched up his nose, disliking my words.
"Did you promise your cousin to keep your mouth locked?" I asked.
"Keep my mouth locked?" Instead of answering, Aun was greatly surprised by what I said, but then he understood the meaning of the phrase and smiled. "No, we didn't talk about keeping quiet about Quarish's apprenticeship. I just promised not to tell his superiors and representatives of the Alchemists' Guild that he is betting... Nothing more."
"Then I don't understand what you don't like about my proposition?" I shrug.
"Well... It's just not nice. Tayan is not a rich man; he is an ordinary employee of not the highest rank. He was lucky to find a wise, experienced, and respected mentor, and if his secret education is revealed, it can ruin his life."
If not for the "memory of the future," I would probably have agreed with Aun in this case. But a direct teleport from Tries to Deytran costs an astronomical amount of money, and I need every penny I can squeeze. So I turn my whole body to the boy, give him a thorough scrutinizing look, and ask:
"Are you sure you come from a merchant family?"
"I..." Aun started to say something, but understanding the meaning of my question, he fell silent, sighed sadly, and his shoulders drooped.
"Do you need money?" I continue to push.
"I do, for the wedding. Very much."
"So what's more important to you, your happiness or the misfortune of someone you barely know?"
"I... I don't know..." The boy is clearly at a loss.
And I can understand him. He's still young, and despite growing up in a merchant's family where profit is everything, the lad has retained some remnants of his conscience. I don't like this plan myself; it grates on my soul like sandpaper on my skin. But the sooner I reach Pentapolis, the higher my chance of ultimate success. The "last time," I broke myself, stepping over my own principles and conscience. This time, I do not wish for such a thing. And it's not just because I feel sorry for myself, although that's a part of it. The main reason is that I genuinely believe that in a "broken state," I wouldn't be able to fulfill my main mission and stop the Invasion. Maybe it's an illusion, a projection of the fear of losing myself, but deep down in my soul, I am utterly convinced that this thought is true, and that my spiritual breakage would mean ultimate defeat. I don't want to ruin the life of this mage I barely know; it wouldn't bring me any joy. However, unlike the murder of the Stone Master to gain access to the artifact with a potentially true Rune, I consider this act acceptable. Yes, it will trouble my conscience a bit, but I won't lose any sleep over it.
"Aun," my voice reveals a note of boredom, "do you think a good teacher should support their disciple in a hard time?"
"Yes. After all, a teacher is a spiritual father!" The boy blurted out, the phrase ingrained in him from childhood.
"You called Kiim Siijon a good teacher," I continue to push my point, "And if he is one, then if it is revealed that he has a secret student, he won't abandon Tayan."
"And if he does?" Aun shrugged.
"Then he's not the teacher Tayan Quarish needs." My words fit perfectly into the core philosophy of Ain's East and seem to resonate with the boy sitting next to me. "And if Kiim Siijon deems Quarish a worthy student, he won't turn his back on him over such a trifle."
"A trifle?.." Aun got defensive, but I cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"Exactly, a trifle, because revealing whose student Quarish is will not hit the young mage but his teacher. And it will cause trouble not for Tayan but for the head of the magical conclave. It's he who's teaching some poor chap for free." I lower my voice to a whisper. "What do you think, is Kiim Siijon powerful and strong enough to handle such problems and quell the dissatisfaction of paying students and their families?"
"He is." The boy nods, and his look clears a bit.
"So…" I begin and then fall silent, keeping my eyes on Aun.
"Alright, Master. You've convinced me." The lad isn't thrilled, but I've found the words to ease his conscience. "If the draw brings you and Quarish together, I'll spill who his teacher is."
"Not if, but when," I correct the boy.
I've gotten my way once again, yet I feel no joy about it.
[1] TLN: it may be curious - the original sounds "if you didn't catch any fish, even crayfish is a fish."