There’s always some bullshit. Honestly, it’s everywhere I go. He began walking toward the alley’s exit, hoping that Avril killed that old man. What happened to the calm and collected old geezer from the deck of the transport ship? He had been a meek little mouse in front of May Asten, but had attacked a young woman that was still in her teens over a few barrels of ale?
As Nolan was lamenting over the fact that many people on Venara shared the old man’s character, a dishevelled Avril appeared by his side.
Why couldn’t I sense her?
“Perfect,” she breathed. “Hold him off for me, would you?”
As she disappeared faster than Nolan could have managed without a movement skill, the enraged old man appeared a few metres behind him. As with the girl, his life signal was undetectable. The man was at the fifth level of the Integration stage, and Avril at the third, so they must have been relying on some unknown means of masking their auras.
“She went that way.” Nolan immediately pointed in the direction that Avril had gone. “I won’t get in your—”
A talisman appeared and transformed into a bronze-coloured blade of spiritual energy, which whistled toward Nolan’s midsection with the intent to impale him. It was at this moment that he decided to kill the man, though the attack suddenly froze in place before it dissipated into nothingness. Both Nolan and his assailant were forced to the ground by a tremendous amount of energy, which didn’t seem to affect anybody on the streets that sat at either end of the alley. Moreover, nobody seemed to pay them any attention, as if he and the man were invisible.
“Who is it that has the audacity to cause trouble in one of our towns?”
May Asten descended into the alleyway without a sound, a dozen disciples lining the looming rooftops as she hovered a couple of metres above them with her hands on her hips and an amused smirk on her face. As with every other time that she had made an appearance, her hair was unaffected by the wind, straight strands spilling over her shoulders, pocked with randomly tied-off strips of chestnut curls. Nolan stopped struggling immediately, and simply laid there on his back and stared up in contentment. He couldn’t move a muscle even if he wanted to, and besides, nothing good would come of going against her will. Yes, he told himself, it had nothing to do with the fact that he could see directly up her robes.
“If you two want to fight, then do it away from town like everyone else. This is your only warning.”
“Um, excuse me?” Since Nolan’s head was frozen in place, he tried to direct his eyes over to the disciples that stood upon the fringes of the rooftops. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I definitely don’t want to fight. This guy just showed up and attacked me out of nowhere. I think he’s gone senile.”
“Brat!” snarled the old man, whose face was pressed down into the dirt by May Asten’s energy. “You know full well who started this!”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you do.” He noticed that some of the disciples were scratching at their cheeks in a way that someone might do when introducing an embarrassing family member to friends or acquaintances. “Honestly, this guy is clearly insane. I’m only at the sixth level of Profound Entry! Why would I cause problems for someone like him?”
Some of the disciples nodded along in agreement, while others cast him looks of pity. May Asten remained in place, not allowing him or the old man to move in the slightest. What the hell was going on? Had she forgotten that she wasn’t wearing underwear? No, weren’t these different robes than she had worn before? He hadn’t seen anything when she had addressed the people on the boat a while back, but now… He broke out in cold sweats. What would she do to him once she realized her mistake? He needed to navigate through this situation with the utmost care.
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“Miss Asten—erm, esteemed elder. I don’t know this man, and I don’t want to fight him. Even if I was strong enough to hold my own against him, what kind of person would I be if I bullied some senile old geezer? I believe that we should take care of the infirm, not harm them.”
Inner essence began to coalesce around the old man, corresponding to his rage. “You dare to spout such nonsense while you’re looking up—”
Nolan used his spiritual sense to send a nearby rock flying into the old man’s head. Defenseless, it smacked into his temple, which quickly began to swell. It seemed that in addition to his movements, his spiritual sense was also suppressed for whatever reason, unlike Nolan’s.
“Did you see that?” said Nolan, dramatically. “He just tried to attack me!” He changed his tone to one of forced reverence. “And yeah, I look up to her, is that a crime?” He forced a sigh. “You clearly won’t leave me alone until I agree to a fight, so fine! Let’s do this!”
He couldn’t quite see May Asten’s expression, but he could have sworn that he had heard a laugh. Still immobile, they were quickly relocated to a small field outside of the city, carried along in the elder’s wake as she flew there within a handful of seconds. Disorienting as it was, Nolan’s spiritual sensitivity was top notch, and he didn’t lose his bearings. He and the old man were placed twenty metres apart, in the exact same positions as they had been in the alley.
May Asten sat atop a comfortable wooden chair that was padded with fluffy cushions, about fifty metres above the ground. Flying atop their magic swords, the twelve disciples from before began to arrive one after the other. It was then that Nolan noticed that there were about a hundred people interspersed throughout the field, small groups of ten or eleven with a couple hundred metres between any chosen group and another. At least one disciple of the Falling Rain Sect presided over each fight.
Realizing what sort of situation he was in, Nolan supressed his anger and frustration and quickly prepared to risk his life. Based upon the old man’s cultivation, it was likely that he and Nolan possessed similar levels of strength. Actually, Nolan was confident that he was stronger than the man, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to surpass him in terms of skill as an arrayment practitioner. Nolan could, at best, conjure a barrier arrayment that could block the attack of somebody at the third level of Integration, and only a couple of attacks, at that. If his opponent was anything like the disciples that had intervened in the fight against the snake that had attacked him and his friends, then Nolan would be in trouble.
He berated himself for losing his temper so easily, but he’d never been one to quietly accept someone’s abuse.
Suddenly, the pressure around him was lifted.
“The match will begin when I say so,” said May Asten. “If one of you attacks before I allow it, well, then it’ll be the last mistake that you make.”
He stood up and dusted off his green robes, the old man doing the same with his beige ones. The venomous glare that he sent Nolan’s way described that this was a death match, and the spiritual energy that gathered around him proved that he would attack the moment that he was permitted to.
Nolan narrowed his eyes. He had to end this as quickly as possible, so it was crucial that he rely on the element of surprise. Given his low level of cultivation, his opponent would likely expect him to fight with spiritual arrayments. Naturally, he would do the opposite, but he had to give off the impression that this wasn’t the case.
“Are both of you ready?”
“Lord Elder,” said a middle-aged disciple, whose face showed that he was morally conflicted. “This isn’t a fair fight. If we allow this to happen, then how can we keep advertising our fairness to those that come for the tower climb?”
“This young man clearly wronged our esteemed guest,” replied May Asten. “How is it fair to protect him after such transgressions?”
“But, no matter how you look at it…”
The air in the immediate area suddenly chilled, to the extent that Nolan could now see his breath.
“Yes, of course, Lord Elder. I apologize for my foolishness.”
“Good. Now, before we begin…actually, you can start now.”
Nolan was prepared, so her flippant attitude didn’t allow the old man to take him by surprise. The moment that she had given the okay, both he and the old man had begun to trace out attack arrayments in the air. Or rather, he pretended to do so, while in actuality he activated the Tranquil Void Step and focused his mind upon several objects within his primary spatial bag. Even the most talented arrayment practitioners required a few seconds to create complex arrayments, and that was the window that he was counting on.