Witnessing Will abruptly attack one of their own, another security guard shouted, "What are you doing!?". At the same time, his partner pulled out a pistol-like device that functioned similarly to a taser, exclaiming, "Hands in the air...!" with an audible crack in his voice.
"I refuse," responded Will, crossing his arms in defiance. It would be one thing if the security guard escorting him had told him the truth, but as he had used Lyra's name and was directing him away from where she should be, he was well within his right to defend himself.
As additional guards gathered to see what the commotion was about, one of their senior members shouted, "Everyone, stay your weapons!" to avoid exacerbating the situation further. They were well aware of Will's identity, so if they tried to detain him without an official warrant or decree, it could cost them much more than their careers.
Though some of the younger, more zealous security guards were shocked by their Captain's order, everyone eventually complied. As for Will, he just silently observed the scene, carefully scanning each member of the detail to make a mental note of those who had shown hostility or a keen interest in seeing him harmed or humiliated...
Approaching Will with caution, the Captain of the security personnel, a grizzled, fit, middle-aged man with grey hair in a buzz cut and a goatee, asked, "Mind telling me why you attacked one of my men?"
"He was behaving suspiciously," replied Will, maintaining his cross-armed posture as he explained, "He utilized the name of Princess Lyra to lure me over here and then tried to run when I asked where he was taking me. So, tell me. Is the Princess located in this section of the arena?"
Though he already knew the answer, the Captain looked between the two Lieutenants flanking him, prompting them to shake their heads with looks of doubt and confusion. It wasn't unusual for VIPs to change where they stayed to make the job of assassins more difficult, but they would know if Lyra was in their section of the arena.
"You're quite the fierce young man..." remarked an aged voice, emanating from behind Will. The latter's body tensed in response, but only briefly as he looked behind him to find a tall, gentlemanly-looking fellow with silvery white hair that transitioned into a beard and mustache. His outfit gave the impression he was a Butler, but though his expression was serene, his icy blue eyes gave the impression they could pierce anything.
Recognizing the man from various articles, Will muttered, "Alpherg Briar..." in moderate frustration. He could weasel himself out of most situations if push came to shove, but if Alpherg attacked, there was little he could do. After all, even at 82 years old and retired, he was still a Grandmaster and former Sword Saint...
"Are you the reason I was led here...?" asked Will, his expression calm and his voice level.
"Tangentially," responded Alpherg, staring past Will to the security guard being treated nearby as he explained, "In truth, it was my Granddaughter who requested you be brought over, believing you would be more likely to come if you thought Princess Lyra had summoned you..."
"And you didn't think to advise her against it?" asked Will, causing Alpherg to frown as he stared at the man incredulously.
Closing his eyes and bowing, Alpherg responded, "Please permit this old man to apologize on her behalf. My Granddaughter is not yet wise in the ways of the world, and I failed to consider the potential harm her actions might invoke..."
Shaking his head, Will said, "Everyone makes mistakes..." before pulling out a vial filled with carmine liquid and tossing it to the Captain, stating, "That should take care of your subordinate's injuries. I'll send someone to retrieve my bident and check on him a few days from now."
"Right...understood..." responded the Captain, clearly displeased but, as he wasn't in a position to reprimand Will or Alpherg, he ultimately stowed the vial in one of his molle pockets before turning to address the situation with the injured security guard.
"So, what now?" asked Will, returning his focus to Alpherg. "Should I be on my way, or should I press on and meet with your Granddaughter? I'm pretty sure she was that blind girl I met in the Labyrinth. Madeen, right?"
"That is correct," replied Alpherg, rising to his full height. "But, given the circumstances, I believe it's best if you meet some other time. Would you be open to an invitation for tea or lunch?"
"It depends on the venue," replied Will. "I'm assuming she wants to spar, right? If that's the case, it would be better to have her visit Eastwarden. You're welcome to chaperone her, of course."
"And is there a suitable time for us to visit?" asked Alpherg.
"I'm usually occupied with training in the mornings, but my afternoons are fairly open," explained Will, earning an approving nod.
"It's good that you take training seriously," said Alpherg. "Contentedness is a nefarious poison..."
As his cumulative age was nearly the same as Alpherg's, Will couldn't help supplying a nod of his own, responding, "But the same can be said of duty and obligation. Too much focus can leave you narrow-sighted and unable to appreciate the simpler things in life."
"Hooooo? Such as...?" asked Alpherg, reaching up to caress his beard and chin.
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"For me, it would be something along the lines of burying my face into the neck of my Gryphon after I just finished grooming them," responded Will, smiling as he added, "For you, I imagine it's something along the lines of seeing your Granddaughter's face light up after she's learned a new move or you've just given her a gift."
"Hmph. Silver-tongued rascal..." muttered Alpherg, his expression a stern mask as he felt slightly embarrassed. However, instead of attempting to refute Will's 'accusation,' he half-turned, indicating his intention to leave as he added, "Please inform the Lord and his personnel of our impending visit..."
Finished speaking, Alpherg abruptly disappeared in a flash of bluish-white light. His former title of Sword Saint stemmed from his inordinate skill with virtually any type of sword, but he was also a Fifth-Circle Mage, proficient in the use of Spatial Magic.
'I hate teleporters...' thought Will, outwardly smiling but internally irked as he despised when people appeared behind him. In his mind, it was easily one of the most insulting things a person could do, as the only real reason to do so was to demonstrate to the person you appeared behind that you could kill them whenever you pleased. In essence, it was a method to tell someone they were beneath you without actually saying it. And, while he wasn't opposed to stabbing people in the back, Will generally preferred a more 'direct' approach...
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Though the standards for Eastwarden's soldiers weren't as exacting as Oirthearhall's, their training facilities were arguably more advanced and 'modern.' There was no Mana-Gathering Formation, as most of the Mana within the capital was drawn into the Royal Palace to be redistributed at the Royal Family's discretion, but the gym was comparable to the fitness centers from Will's first incarnation, complete with sports courts, a sauna, and, most importantly, a sizeable pool.
As it was one of the best ways to exercise every major muscle group in the body, Will's mornings started with a two-hour, ten-kilometer swim to loosen his muscles and joints before an hour of high-intensity form and movement training. After that, he would typically spend thirty minutes to an hour meditating in the sauna before downing a high-protein, coffee-based smoothie, the ingredients of which were carefully chosen by Amira, magically analyzed by Therese, and taste-tested by Rzya to ensure there were no toxins and the flavor was palatable.
*loud slurping*
"It sounds to me that you're finished with your drink..." remarked Madeen, gazing at Will with half-lidded eyes despite being unable to see, at least not like a normal person.
"There's still a bit near the bottom..." contended Will, using a straw to loudly suck up the remnant of his frap-like smoothie, much to Madeen's dissatisfaction. She had shown up midway through his training with the reasoning it would save time as he wouldn't need to warm up or change. However, as she had chosen to train nearby and was constantly looking over to see what he was up to, Will couldn't focus. Not because he was averse to being watched but because Madeen depended on her Aura to 'see.' This amounted to someone repeatedly poking him, so once he was finished meditating, Will got his revenge by taking his sweet time sipping his smoothie. Was it petty? Absolutely. But he was expected to be a little small-minded at his apparent age...
"So, any particular reason you want to spar...?" asked Will, speaking with his straw in his mouth.
"Why else?" asked Madeen, her expression pouty but determined as she explained, "Many regard you as the strongest person in our year. To claim that title myself, I must defeat you..."
"And, then what?" asked Will. "Being the strongest in the Academy has no real value, and setting others as goals or obstacles you need to overcome to validate yourself isn't healthy. Just ask your Grandfather. Mastery isn't something you attain by besting others. You achieve it by pushing beyond the constraints of reason and imposition..."
"You sound like an old man..." Madeen retorted, her frown deepening as she asserted, "Look. I don't get all that complicated stuff, okay? I'm just tired of people pitying me because I'm blind. That's why I'll keep fighting until I beat you, the other students at the Academy, and anyone else who is lauded for their strength. Then people won't see me as someone to pity, but someone to admire..."
"That's fine and all," conceded Will. "But what happens if I kick your ass and you're never able to overcome me? That kind of situation is bound to cause you stress. More importantly, you underestimate how petty people can be. For every person who admires you, there will be tens, if not many more, who despise or resent you for your looks, background, and the fact you're strong despite your handicap. People love to make excuses for why they're weak, so they secretly resent those who have a valid reason to be weak but choose to work hard regardless..."
"So, what, I should accept everyone's pity and behave like a doll, coddled and protected until it's time for me to change hands!?" exclaimed Madeen, rising to her feet with an expression filled with indignation and, at least in Will's eyes, fear.
"Anyone who suggests such a thing is a fool. And that's in the best-case scenario..." responded Will, his expression and tone calm as he clarified, "What I was trying to convey is that mastery is a personal pursuit. There is nothing wrong with wanting to become strong. But 'why' you become strong is important. Seeking power to put people in their place will leave you feeling empty and broken once you realize they never cared whether you were weak or strong and were simply using you to vent. Meaningful power is something you acquire to uphold personal values and safeguard that which you hold dear..."
"..."
Realizing that Will wasn't trying to challenge or ridicule her, Madeen sat back down and lowered her gaze in thought, sporting an expression that was equal parts embarrassed and frustrated. She wanted to criticize Will for attempting to sound smart when he was barely a few weeks older, but her Grandfather often told her that wisdom born from age was forged via mistakes. True wisdom was found within, and it didn't discriminate based on factors like age. Instead, it was a form of acceptance, both of oneself and the situation they found themselves in...
"Then...what do you think I should do...?" asked Madeen, raising her gaze to meet Will's. In response, the latter's expression and Aura softened in a manner remarkably similar to her Grandfather's as he answered, "The only way to truly win against those who look down on you is to live your life to the fullest and attain happiness through personal pursuits or by spending time with those you cherish. But that's in the long term. What you should do right this instant is prepare for our spar. From there, you simply need a change in perspective. For example, instead of thinking about how to beat me, think about how you can improve. As long as you continue building on that sentiment, there's no limit to what you can achieve..."
Finished with what he had to say, Will took the initiative to rise to his feet. Madeen followed his example, but when she tried following after him, Will took a bit of the wind out of her sails, strategically undermining himself by saying, "Go ahead and make your way over to one of the sparring rooms. I need to take a shit..."
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