Volume 1

Chapter 1

Graduation

Magic is by nature dangerous and volatile. Any sane man, any cautious man, would no doubt shy away from its usage. Yet, in a world such as ours, we have no choice but to rely on it. For monsters loom our land, terrifying creatures that we cannot defeat without magic. That is why knowledge is the key. With knowledge comes control. With knowledge comes mastery. And so, one of the goals of a mage, no matter the circumstances, is to seek knowledge. But I warn you. Knowledge can corrupt. Knowledge can destroy. One must walk a fine line when seeking wisdom. And so to be a mage is to traverse the edge of a tantalizing abyss.

-excerpt from the book of Solingrad, grandmaster of the Order of Sigils and motto of the Hrothgar Academy of Magic

“Ladies and Gentlemen. We are about to begin the final match of the annual Hrothgar School of Magic’s commencement tourney. As you all no doubt know, this is the match to decide this year’s valedictorian.” The announcer, an elderly man dressed in a long red robe that covered his entire frame, spoke to the audience in front of the school’s arena. He was a member of the teaching staff. A retired soldier of the Amare Kingdom to the west who once commanded a small detachment. The traces of that experience was still evident on his aged body. Even at the respectable age of 85, he still stood tall and straight, and his muscles were in much better shape than those of his peers. His voice was loud and strong, and with the aid of magic, carried a sense of authority that corralled the on-lookers.

“It’s the same fucking speech every single year. Do they not get tired of hearing it?” A young man grumbled in the school’s auditorium as he looked out of the windows.

“It’s tradition, Hannibal.” A girl standing beside him with a glass of juice answered.

“It was a rhetorical question, Sonya.” Hannibal snorted. “In any case, do you have the information I need?”

“Of course,” Sonya smiled sweetly as she produced a thin envelop. “The question is, do you have the coins?”

Hannibal threw a pouch at her which she caught adroitly. She shook it. A metallic jingle came forth. Her smile widened as she handed the envelope to Hannibal. “Good luck in the match, babe,” she purred as she walked away.

Hannibal ripped open the envelope and quickly scanned the contents. It was exactly what he requested. The location where the representatives of the College of Fereth were staying and when they would leave. He had no idea where Sonya got her information from, but they have never been wrong.

“And now, it is time for our candidates to enter the field,” the announcer shouted and a round of applause burst forth from the audience. Hannibal put on his weapons. Two knives on either side and a bow and arrows on his back. He walked out. His opponent was also making his way to the arena. For a moment, their eyes met. They nodded to each other, a recognition of respect. Hannibal had predicted who his opponent his final opponent would be when he saw the tournament chart, and he wasn’t wrong. Joveniskr Troth, a flaming red head from the North, tall and unbelievably muscular. If somebody told Hannibal that Joveniskr was able to choke a bear to death with his bare hands, he would have believed it.

A bit of a weapons freak, Joveniskr had a tremendous crush on his blade, a monstrous great sword that he called Belinda. He caressed and cared for it as a man would do to his wife. There were even rumors floating around about how he had passionately masturbated to it during the cold wintry nights. But there was nothing comical about his strength. Not only was he able to “project” with his magic, something most students can’t do until they reached college, he was also far more experienced in combat than anybody else in the school. Hannibal knew that if he was to lose to anyone in this tournament, it would be to Joveniskr.

The two finalists made their way to the stage shoulder to shoulder. To anyone who didn’t know Hannibal, it would seem like an unbalanced match. Joveniskr was a full head taller and much more rugged, not to mention much more ripped. But everyone in town knew of Hannibal’s combat abilities. In fact, when the brackets were announced, almost everyone, from students to parents to random spectators predicted that those two would be in the finals.

Hannibal and Joveniskr reached the center of the stage, bowed to each other, then took up their positions ten feet apart. A bell resonated throughout the arena signaling the beginning of the fight.

A heavy layer of magic energy surrounded Joveniskr as he unleashed Belinda from her sheath. This was “reinforcement”, the foundation of all magic combat. As the name implies, the user infuses his or her body with magic. This allows the user to gain the speed of a leopard, the strength to shatter boulders, and the endurance to tank attacks that would normally destroy a human body. A competent mastery of this technique is the requirement for graduation from any academy and entry to any college.

Hannibal too, followed suit as he notched an arrow to his drawn bow. The two looked at each other, each frozen in their stance. Joveniskr moved first. With a belligerent battle cry he rushed at Hannibal. Each of his steps left an indentation on the stage. Hannibal also released his strings. The arrow shot out. Joveniskr received it with the broadside of his sword. The impact halted his advance. It was much heavier than he expected. But Joveniskr was not the only one surprised. Hannibal was also shocked. The weapon is an extension of the wielder’s body, so it can also be put under the influence of “reinforcement”. If Joveniskr was the best in raw power, then Hannibal was best in efficiency and control. That arrow that was just shot, tempered by magic, possessed the force to puncture through three grizzlies and still kill a fourth.

But the surprise only lasted for a moment. Joveniskr resumed his charge. The distance between them was much shorter now, and boosted by magic, he reached Hannibal in three large strides.

However, Hannibal did not retreat. Instead, he jumped towards Joveniskr, and before Belinda could come crashing down, he lashed out and struck his opponent’s throat with his bow. It didn’t incapacitate Joveniskr, his “reinforcement” was way too strong for that. But the throat is still one of the soft spots, and the blow was sufficient to upset Joveniskr’s attack and knock him off balance. Hannibal seized this opportunity and notched another arrow preparing to shoot at point blank range. Just as he fired, he felt an invisible hand pushing him away and he felt weightless for a second before crashing into the ground. But experience had taught him how to land, and he instinctively shifted his body to mitigate the impact and at the same time rolled into a crouching position. He knew what had happened. This was Joveniskr’s “projection”. With “projection”, magic is projected outwards into a form. A mage can only use one projection. After its awakening the user then spends their entire life perfecting it, which usually entails coming up with different ways of using it to fit various situations.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Joveniskr hasn’t started refining his “projection” yet, and Hannibal was glad that this was the case. He didn’t want to imagine how much more difficult this fight would become if his opponent had better control. As it stands, Joverniskr’s basic ability, a 360 degrees magic blast that knocked back everything in its range was already annoying enough.

Joveniskr attacked again. A downward slash. Hannibal side step away and dual wielded his daggers. He knew that Joveniskr couldn’t use his ability forever. The demand of “projection” on its user’s mana pool was great, and at their level, they couldn’t use them for a long period of time. So it came down to an endurance fight after all, Hannibal thought as he steeled himself for a long battle. If he get hit by Belinda, he loses. Hannibal had no confidence in taking the great sword’s hit head on. But if Joveniskr’s mana pool depletes, then he wins. Deciding thus, he detached the quiver and bow from his back to give himself more agility and speed before jumping into fray.

The two danced on. At times, Belinda came dangerously close of striking Hannibal, missing only by mere centimeters. At other times, Hannibal attacked an opening, only to be blown away. Ten minutes turned to twenty, then to thirty. Suddenly, Joveniskr stabbed down at the stage, his muscles bulging and quivering at the effort. The stage shattered as cracks split it into pieces. Hannibal, caught off guard, lost his footing. Fucking shit, he thought as he fell. Joveniskr, without pause, swung dear Belinda at Hannibal with gleaming eyes, sure of his victory.

Hannibal watched the blade approach. He didn’t have time to dodge, and he couldn’t block a direct hit. All scenarios lead to defeat, all except one. It was the one that Hannibal did not want to use, yet he did want to concede, not after all his effort. And so he used it, his “projection”. Time slowed down. Joveniskr’s movements slow to crawl. Hannibal got up and stabbed with both of his daggers. His opponent did not have the chance to react.

To the audience, Hannibal was a total blur. Before they even knew what had happened, Joveniskr was already slumping to the ground, knocked out with a few broken ribs. So sure was he that Hannibal was unable to counter that he focused his energy in his attack, neglecting his defense, which allowed Hannibal land a game winning blow.

That night, Hannibal stood in front of the inn that the representatives from the College of Fereth were staying. He was exhausted not only from the battle, but from the ceremony and party that followed. But he couldn’t rest yet. He entered the inn and made his way to the room where the college representatives resided in, all according to Sonya’s letter. On his way, he halfheartedly greeted some of the people who congratulated him. Finally, he arrived at his destination. A wave of nervousness washed over and he took a moment to compose himself before entering.

“I thought you’d be coming,” was what he heard when he opened the door.

He replied with a deep bow, “My name is Hannibal Belethor. Nice to meet you.”

“No need to be so formal. I am Viktor Delanova, representative and teacher of the College of Fereth. How might I be of service?” The representative asked as he gestured at a chair.

Hannibal took that as an invitation to sit down. When he did, he said, “I wish admittance into your college.”

Viktor shook his head. “That would not be possible. We are one of the colleges that only takes in people who have already developed their ‘projections’. You have not. And even if the other colleges are willing to make exceptions, as you are entitle to that due to your valedictorian status, we are not for we only take in people with unique ‘projections’. Without knowing what your ability is ahead of time, we cannot accept you on a valedictorian exemption.”

“Don’t worry though,” Viktor added with a smile. “You’re only eighteen, and you’re a valedictorian who is extremely talented in combat. There will be many colleges that are willing to make this exemption, I’m sure.”

“But I do have a ‘projection’,”

“Excuse me?”

“I do have one.” Hannibal repeated. “I used it during the match.”

“Do you mean?” Viktor thought back to that last blow of the fight.

“That’s right. Everyone thought that it was because of my mastery of ‘reinforcement’ that I was able to increase my speed. That’s wrong.” Hannibal stood up. “Let me show you.”

Time slowed down once again as he walked towards Viktor. When he stopped, Viktor was staring at him with wide open eyes. “You didn’t use ‘reinforcement’. I couldn’t tell then because you had it on. What did you do?”

“Time manipulation, though my target can only be me. Currently, I can only fast forward myself.”

“Time manipulation,” Viktor whispered. “And you never told your academy?”

Hannibal shook his head. Then with a cheeky smile, he asked, “So Sir, do I fit the requirements now?”

Viktor gazed at him for a while, then said, “I believe you do. Welcome, Hannibal Belethor. You are the fifth and final student admitted to the College of Fereth for this cycle.”