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The Aether God
Chapter 17 - The Midweek Duels

Chapter 17 - The Midweek Duels

The Aether God: Chapter 17 - The Midweek Duels

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest to children ardent for some desperate glory,

The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

Caladrius School East District: Court 2

The Midweek Duels were easily the most popular event for the Caladrius School’s outer-disciples. Nearly 20,000 were gathered, their anticipation palpable in the charged atmosphere. The arena, perhaps the largest structure in the Caladrius School’s Outer Courts, buzzed with energy. It was one of the smaller arenas in the Great Valley, but the stands loomed overhead to each side, teeming with disciples and some of their family members. It was one of the only events that let the disciples see just how large the disciple-body was. It paled in comparison to many other arenas, though.

Below, was a single dueling platform. From its center were six concentric rings, each a different color, relating to the known elements. Surrounding it were the disciples who had entered this week’s tournament. They were all novices, except for Cerulean. The air crackled with excitement as competitors exchanged banter and traded jests, their murmurs blending into a cacophony of sound. The sun was beating high overhead. Soon a man stepped onto the stage.

“Thank you all for coming this week!” It was Aberforth Whitehorn, the headmaster of the school.

…………………

As Cerulean looked around the stands, he was looking for individuals displaying symbols of the Legendary Sects. He couldn’t spot any.

“If any of them are here, they’d obviously be using a concealment technique… hmm…”

Cerulean cycled through thousands of novice and apprentice techniques in his mind. There were very few that would be able to see through a high-rank concealment art. He thought of one, though it would only have the possibility of seeing through an azurean concealment technique.

“Azurean Clairvoyance Technique: Peer - Art 3: Cyan”

As soon as he used the art, he began looking through the crowd once more.

“There doesn’t appe-” As he was looking through, he noticed a small cloud of Azurean Ether. In its center was an older man with white hair. Furthermore, he was literally on the corner of the stage. He was watching the duels very closely.

“Did Boreas himself come? I should have had Nora draw me all of their faces… Intriguing fellow. How is he so confident that the headmaster won’t see him? Are they working together?” Cerulean raised his eyebrows. While Boreas was a rank higher, it wasn’t too difficult to see through a concealment technique a rank higher than one’s own.

“Perhaps he thinks the headmaster wouldn’t even try… Is he meticulous or wise?” Cerulean still didn’t know if there were any other sects with spies present. As such, if he were to try to make himself known to Boreas, it would have to be done with great caution.

“…Triton Ashborn - Attributeless!” As Cerulean was pondering, he hadn’t been paying much attention. He was only drawn out of his episode once Triton’s name had been called.

As the announcer's voice echoed across the arena, a hush fell over the crowd, their eyes trained expectantly on the dueling platform. When the word ‘attributeless’ was heard, a collective gasp swept through the spectators like a gust of wind.

Stepping onto the platform was Triton Ashborn. Instantly, a ripple of skepticism spread through the audience, their expressions shifting from anticipation to doubt. Whispers rippled through the crowd, questioning the wisdom of still allowing attributeless disciples to battle. The only reason it hadn’t totally been abolished was because it hadn’t happened in so long, but now there would be another dramatic episode about the school’s policies. Many started to boo, and the booing swept over the crowd. As soon as it did, Triton began waving his hand in a number of directions and smiling, as if he were a celebrity that they were cheering for. His other hand was holding a wooden sword, as all midweek duels required weapons with blunt edges.

Some shook their heads in disbelief, while others exchanged knowing glances, convinced that this was surely a joke. After all, in a realm where strength was measured by one's mastery of the elements, an attributeless disciple seemed destined for failure. Many in the crowd braced themselves for a brief and one-sided bout, expecting little more than a swift defeat.

However, in one corner of the stands, a few hundred disciples stood up.

“TURN THEM TO ASH, TRITON!!!” A group of about a thousand disciples all shouted at once, and then started loudly cheering. Triton plugged his ears with his fingers and closed his eyes as if they were booing.

Across the platform, another disciple stepped up. He was a four-star infernal novice, also holding a wooden sword.

“Can we get this over with already?” The boy ignored Triton and rather looked to Aberforth, who nodded and spoke.

“You each have five minutes! Begin!”

As soon as Aberforth spoke, flames rose up from under the boy’s feet. He lifted his right foot slowly as he leaned forward. As it pressed back down onto the ground, infernal ripples appeared and he blasted forward, darting across the arena. Within moments he had become a red blur to the eyes of the spectators who began cheering.

Triton on the other end of the arena though, closed his eyes and began slowly lifting the wooden sword. He held it high above his head. At that moment, many spectators gasped. But with the two seconds or so that he had before the boy reached him, Triton began wiggling the sword, as well as his hips, in a funny manner whilst smiling. Many confused expressions could be seen in the stands, as he seemed to be making a total joke out of the duel now.

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As the red blur reached the space in front of Triton, time seemed to slow down for the two, as Triton had silently casted an abyssal hastening and perception art as well. The other boy was low to the ground, holding his sword with two hands at his right side. He began a two-handed diagonal upward swing at Triton’s left midsection. Seeing this, Triton fell backward, twisting his entire body clockwise. As Triton’s sword fell through the air, he dragged its downward momentum sideways into his spiral toward the boy’s back, who had just entirely missed Triton.

…………………

“How was that?”

Triton had come off the stage, and was now sitting next to Cerulean again. The crowd was not sure whether they should be silent or cheering… The crowd of attributeless though, were having the time of their lives.

“Looked pretty good to me. I think the Sectmaster of the Frostbane Sect enjoyed it too haha.” Cerulean replied nonchalantly.

“He was watching?! Does he know?!” Triton was still just a menial resident of the Great Valley. The seven sectmasters were extraordinary existences.

“Yeah… He seems cool though.”

………………

“SECTMASTER CERULEAN WOOOOOH!!” The attributeless disciples were shouting even louder now than they had for Triton. After they shouted, in the middle of the section, a large white object emerged from the sea of white robes. They started unraveling it. Soon afterward, Cerulean blushed and covered his eyes with his palm.

“WE LOVE YOU CERULEAN!!” The voices of around two-hundred girls could be heard shouting, before turning into a cacophony of laughter. The banner was a caricature of Cerulean, but drawn with the figure of a bulky, muscular man.

“Why the hell are these two guys so popular?”

“What is going on?”

“Are the attributeless disciples all in the same club now?”

“Why don’t either of these guys have a weapon?”

For everyone attending, this was perhaps the most strange set of duels yet. An attributeless disciple had already won a duel, and now even another was stepping up.

“I wonder if Boreas can tell that I’m suppressing my aura…”

Cerulean’s opponent was another nameless disciple, but he was a five-star terrestrial novice.

“I hope your girlfriends won’t be too sad when I crush you!” The boy punched his hands together.

“Seriously?” Cerulean thought to himself. He decided he would be ignoring this silly banter.

“You each have five minutes! Begin!”

Immediately, the boy conjured in front of himself ten sizable rocks that hovered menacingly in the air. With a swift motion of his hand, jagged cracks tore through each one, fracturing them into many sharp shards. He held his hand upward towards Cerulean, projecting the debris toward him with alarming speed.

As Cerulean watched the rocks flying, he casted a number of abyssal hastening and perception arts. By the time he was done, he was watching the shards fly through the air at a snail’s pace. He gave them the equivalent of two minutes before they would reach him. The difference in cultivation was quite immense between the two of them. Before continuing the battle, he turned his head over his shoulder toward Boreas Frostbane, looking him in the eyes - he did so for just a short moment. Afterward, he looked back towards the Terrestrial Artist and waited once again - Cerulean had to avoid making too big a display, so he couldn’t move too quickly. Once the shards arrived in front of him, he gracefully danced between them. He used very slow motions, so that viewers would see him moving at a more normal speed.

After they passed, the boy was quite astounded, and Cerulean watched his expression change ever so slowly.

“How long until I have an exciting fight?” He thought to himself.

Soon though, the boy casted his own hastening art, and began moving toward Cerulean much faster. While it was still a bit slow, Cerulean assumed a martial pose. He bent his knees, and held his hands in front of himself. His palms were open.

In his other life, Cerulean had spent millenia practicing different disciplines. It was, in many ways, his coping method. Because he could not cultivate, he was a puny existence to every cultivator, despite being an intellectual being they sought guidance from. He was afraid at many times that if he were to slightly anger one, they would squash him with their finger - this in part developed his keen ability to read emotions. In some ways, he had the ability to emotionally control people, but he could never do so with brute force. Now though, everything was different.

Before the boy reached Cerulean, the boy casted an art. The ground beneath Cerulean began to rumble and crack. A pillar of rock was about to shoot up from beneath his feet.

Apprentice Abyssal Canceling Technique: Terrestrial Canceling - Art 17: Quake

Cerulean's foot stomped down onto the ground, disrupting the flow of Ether before it could materialize into a tangible force. He acted swiftly, ensuring that none of the spectators had a chance to comprehend that the other boy had even tried casting an art. This would only have been visible to a saint artist, such as Boreas.

As the boy reached Cerulean, he threw out a punch reinforced with Terrestrial Ether towards Cerulean’s face.

Apprentice Abyssal Barrier Technique: Terrestrial Momentum - Art 2: Little Wall

Instead of dodging the punch, Cerulean simply casted an invisible barrier over his face and ate it. The boy began to withdraw his hand, but before he could, Cerulean had already grabbed his arm. Cerulean twisted counter-clockwise, drawing the boy’s arm over his right shoulder.

Apprentice Gravitational Technique: Soft Inversion - Art 3: Centrifuge

While exerting nearly zero effort, the boy was lifted off of his feet, and began to arc over Cerulean’s head. Cerulean was merely holding his arm and going through the motions for display. As soon as the boy had reached the peak of his arc, he looked as if he was falling toward the sky, and Cerulean was his only tether to the ground.

Apprentice Gravitational Technique: Hard Inversion - Art 3: Compel

Instead of completing his graceful arc, the boy’s body was suddenly snapped downward. Cerulean offset the downward momentum with a hard tug to the side, and the boy’s body vaulted, flipping frontward like a gymnast as he plummeted.

Apprentice Gravitational Technique: Soft Inversion - Art 4: Relief

Before he hit the ground, Cerulean faked an upward motion on his arm to slow the momentum. The boy landed flat on his bottom. Cerulean afterward smacked him on the face a few times to prevent him from getting up to fight again.

The entire crowd stood in total silence, except for a particular superfan section of attributeless disciples, who were cheering hysterically, chanting Cerulean’s name. Some girls even fainted.

Cerulean looked to the corner of the stage, but Boreas was gone.

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