Len watched on as his strange and naive student sent glob after glob of the acidic spit at the wall of water, his squad mates cheering him on. He didn’t need to speak with Jaren, the plans for the wave were already set in stone. The monsters of the final wave were always stronger, especially the ones closest to the boss. None of Liam’s forms could handle the monsters of that level. Liam was always going to fight from the midrange, the new ability just made for a good excuse. So he sat near the edge of Jaren’s squad, watching.
Adding range to Liam’s already versatile set of skills would be nothing but a boon. Might actually get him to the top of the leaderboard naturally had he the time to properly train with it. But Len didn’t have time for that, he was going to force Liam’s squad to the top no matter what.
And it was something Len should be excited about, Liam’s growth was to be one of the largest aids to Len’s efforts, but he couldn’t get rid of this feeling. A glowing spark flew from his face as his eye twitched, sending a fright through the soldiers nearby. Yet Len ignored them, focusing on the feeling. Doubt gnawed at the back of his mind, concern about his newly minted Squad Captain.
It first took root when Liam skipped training and asked about the Ferals, bothering Len ever since. He felt his grip on the boy loosening; something he was prepared for but still vexed him. He knew the boy was easily swayed, he just hadn’t realized how compassionate he’d be for the destitute Ferals. He wished he had known earlier. Life in that world he came from must be far easier than he first told me. To be able to care so much for those who hold no value to you. Strange. Len would have added Ferals to his plan had he known Liam would be so affected by them.
Liam hadn’t shown any outward distrust, yet Len could see the signs. That Aura-enabled pep talk put some fire back in the boy. However, those twins held the sole motivation for Liam’s continued efforts in this battle. That and Liam clearly found a taste for battle or at the very least battle with close comrades—something Len knew all too well, along with the cost of the inverse: the pain of losing them.
A salvo of spit missed the wall for the first time, burning through the grass next to the water mage’s feet. The sister mage barked out a laugh as the boy jumped away from the sizzling hole and shot a blast of water into it.
What a pickup. Len thought to himself as his attention turned to the mage twins. Len had his eyes on them even prior to Liam’s appearance. Daila always kept him in the loop on students with great potential. She highly recommended them for recruitment into the guild, but Len wasn’t keen on entering a bidding war with the other Legions. Sure they were talented, but nothing quite extraordinary like he was looking for. Though it would have been fun to see just how much he could make Rickard lose before pulling out from the race.
However, there was something else that had stopped him from pursuing them.
Pride. The two twins were filled with it, the brother hid it more than the sister, but it was there. Pride was a dangerous emotion. One that Len had watched tear down so many throughout the years. It's part of what made Liam so refreshing to teach, he was so humble for somebody with near unlimited potential.
But even for how lucky he was to have them join Liam, they also added to Len’s worry. Their reaction to the pep talk confirmed everything Mel told him about the two. They’ve been puffed up so much in their lives because of the constant praise. A pride that was shattered in that break in. They were faced with their own mortality that day, and how it was protected by one little mimic.
They have completely latched on to Liam, and won’t be letting go anytime soon. A great thing for Liam, but as for Len. He was unsure. They were an unknown variable in his already uncertain game. And he hated not knowing.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
But they did react just as he wanted to the pep talk, and they made the task of getting Liam to the top of the Under 10 board far more manageable. Maybe they didn’t deserve such scrutiny.
Another nasty orange blob of acid splashed against the water, some even seeping through it this time, telling Len that the velocity was rising with each shot. Liam was getting the hang of it. A good sign, hell, a great sign. The three members of L7 smiled as the twins congratulated Liam on his quick learning. Their smiles however, were among the minority.
Len looked back out over the battlefield, at the soldiers that dotted the Laurel side of the field. Worried frowns and nervous ticks ruled the expressions of this field, from the greenest recruits to the hardened veterans, all of them sharing in the tense atmosphere. Each stealing glances at the object of their fear. The sun. The celestial source of light now sat at just the tip of the treetops; it almost looked as if the trees themselves held it in place. But their effort would be for nothing. Time marches on.
Too much of this raid sat in the realm of the weird and wrong. The holes without a confirmed source, the sudden start to the second wave, the Hem Gremlins’ arrow assault, and now this delay for the final wave. Len balled his fists, quelling the fire in his chest. This raid felt, no, was atypical. Worse in fact. It was unnatural.
A single one of these anomalies would be cause for concern, but all of them at once. Never. And no matter how much Len tried to analyze each detail or excuse he came up with, only one solution came to mind.
It was planned.
But by who or what? That’s what stumped Len.
Len sat and watched the trio for another ten minutes as he contemplated over the issue, the sun now dipping below the tree line. The countdown in his vision hadn’t changed. This final wave was still somehow Approximately 10 Minutes. He sighed. But that wasn’t the time limit anymore. It was inevitable. The countdown would begin as soon as the sun dropped below the horizon. Drat.
Jaren walked over to him, a sullen expression thinly veiled by his black helmet.
“Plan B then?” Jaren asked.
Len stood up, brushing his pants. “You guessed it.” Len cracked his back, then his shoulders, pausing and then looking over to Jaren. “Well, maybe Plan D.”
Jaren shook his head. “Not D. That means the boss is going to be a right pain in the ass. My ass.”
Len smirked. “Rickard and Lirae will share in the ass pain as well.”
Jaren chuckled. “Always know how to brighten my day, don’t yah.”
“Something like that.”
Len pointed his an open palm into the air, angled toward Laurelhaven. Flames swirled around his shoulder, then down his forearm, and finally in his palm. The flames tightened in his palm, forming a small ball of solid red flame. Len shot it out, uncaring at those who watched the spectacle.
The ball flew through the air, exploding once it reached its maximum height.
Len nodded. She should get the message. He thought, before turning his attention to his next task.
“Jaren, explain it to those three. I need to prepare.”
Jaren exhaled with a shrug. “The things I do for you.”
“Trust me, I’d rather not do this bit. It's incredibly boring.” Len looked into the dimming sky one more time before finishing. “But there’s no other way.”
Len squatted down, readying himself for flight, then pausing to tell Jaren one more thing. “Oh, I hope that armor is acid proof.” He nodded toward Liam, who had just missed another shot at the water wall target.
“Just get out of here, you old coot.” Jaren said with a wave.
Len shot off into the sky. At least it gives me time to mull over what is happening in this raid.
After a quick flight, Len stopped and floated a couple hundred feet above the frontline, slightly on the monsters’ side. Still no sign of the final wave.
He crossed his legs and put his arms in his lap as he floated in midair. Flames danced in and around his whole body. He breathed in deep, the title of his least favorite ability escaping his lips.
“Sun Flare.”