Alaric had only managed to exchange a few brief sentences with Eva, their conversation flowing with the gentle rustle of leaves in the crisp air, when the sudden creak of the cabin door cut through the mont like a knife.
Erging from the shadows of the dimly lit interior was Oliveria, the striking woman whom Tian had spoken of with such reverence. Her long, dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing a face that was both beautiful and intimidating.
Her deep-set eyes bore into Alaric with an intensity that made the hairs on his neck stand on end, and he couldn’t help but feel the intense tension radiating from her. The underlying hostility in her deanour sent a chill down his spine, instinctively prompting him to adopt a more guarded posture. He recognised that if she intended to inflict harm, he would be powerless to defend himself against her.
"You two will be having a duel," Oliveria declared, her voice cold and devoid of emotion, each word slicing through the air like a sharp blade.
In stark contrast, Eva, who had monts before appeared tentative and unsure, suddenly broke free from her anxious shell.
"What? No!" She exclaid, her voice rising in alarm, resonating through the clearing and almost startling Alaric, who stood just inches away. He winced at her outburst, shocked by the unexpected ferocity in her tone.
Oliveria, still maintaining her cold, detached expression, replied, "You will do as I say, Eva."
Eva’s heart raced as she t Oliveria’s steely eyes, and she instinctively recoiled, a tremor of fear coursing through her. This was the first ti she had encountered her guardian’s frigid side. Until now, Oliveria had showered her with warmth and kindness, but today, sothing is wrong. She seed... Upset?
In that fleeting mont, the facade Oliveria wore almost shattered. A flicker of vulnerability danced across her expression before she ruthlessly clamped down on it. There was no going back from this.
With a subtle wave of her hand, Oliveria harnessed the swirling origin energy that enveloped them. The air vibrated with quiet power as she moulded it, shaping it into a form. From the shimring currents of energy, she altered its properties, creating a wooden sword that was vivid and tangible, with a smooth surface that was to the touch. She extended the creation to Eva, who gazed at it before grabbing it by the handle.
anwhile, the chosen who stood nearby was left utterly speechless. His mouth hung slightly open, disbelief etching across his features. ’What... What was that? Did she just create matter?’ His mind whirled with confusion.
Though he could not perceive origin energy for now, his keen analytical skills told him with certainty that the sword before him was not an illusion; it was pure, unadulterated wood, as authentic as the very trees that breathed life into the forest.
Oliveria’s voice sliced through Alaric’s reverie like a blade, pulling him from his tangled thoughts. "What is your choice of weapon?" she asked, her gaze intense.
"Senior, do we really need to fight?" Alaric asked solemnly. He didn’t want to engage in a fight with anyone, let alone a child, unless necessary. It felt like bullying.
"Indeed, it is necessary. If you wish for her to be your life partner, you must prove your worth," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for debate. "Now, do you want a weapon of choice, or will you rely on your bare fists? Although I highly recomnd against that. Ultimately, the choice is yours."
’Prove my worth?’ A wry smile crossed Alaric’s lips. From what Old Tian had shared regarding the blessed and their life partners, he was convinced he was the only one bound by such expectations. Most would leap at the chance to bond with a blessed, enamoured by the benefits that ca with it.
Lost in thought, he recalled a particular monkey friend from his past. mories flooded back, and an overwhelming sadness washed over him as he rembered the night he lost everything. Images of that spirited friend spinning a stick too large for him flickered through Alaric’s mind, a desperate attempt to impress him, or get a reaction from his emotionless self at the ti, now a bittersweet recollection.
’In mory of Kong...’ he thought, the na echoing in his heart.
"A bo staff," he declared, surprising even himself with his choice. He had no experience wielding such a weapon, but learning had always been within his grasp, just as it was now after the enhancent of his eyes. He felt a surge of confidence, knowing he could adapt and overco any learning hurdle.
With a stoic nod, Oliveria conjured a sturdy, elegant brown staff, handing it to Alaric. He grasped it firmly, feeling its inherent balance and weight, before attempting a spin. His initial efforts were clumsy, the staff slipping from his grasp.
Oliveria’s unamused gaze lingered on him, taking in the disastrous display of novice skill before she turned sharply, choosing not to dwell on his ineptitude. "Follow ," she ordered, her voice leaving no room for debate.
Alaric obediently picked up the staff and trailed after her with Eva tagging alongside, determination sparking in him. He tried spinning the staff again as they walked, and this ti, with no surprise, the movents flowed with newfound ease. By the ti they reached the open space designated for battle, he had already demonstrated an enviable proficiency, twirling the staff with a ferocity that showcased his adaptability.
Eva, walking beside him, couldn’t help but look on with awe in her face, while Oliveria held a solemn expression. She had thought he would have a hard ti using a weapon he had never used before, but seeing him improve at such a monstrous pace is quite eye-opening. She should never have underestimated a blessed and their broken abilities.
’His ability is related to enhanced comprehension. That would be troubleso if given enough ti. I wonder if he has an innate technique as well. If he does, I hope it is not those that can be used as a mortal. If not, this battle would be aningless.’ She thought.
So innate techniques require a certain level of cultivation to use, while others can be used by mortals who haven’t touched upon the concept of cultivation.
Having such a monstrous comprehension ability is an unfair ability in any battle, not to ntion innate abilities that could sotis be conceptual in nature. If given enough ti and appropriately nurtured, she was sure that this young blessed had the potential to surpass most other chosen she was aware of.
She stopped at an open space so distance away from the cabin. This was where she typically gave lessons to Eva every day. It was a flat grassland with no obstruction in sight, bar a single massive tree where she typically lay down while instructing her.
"We’re here," Oliveria announced, glancing back to find Eva srised by Alaric’s performance, her face lit up with admiration. A tick mark appeared on Oliveria’s temple at the sight, frustration simring beneath her calm exterior.
’Just like that insufferable old man,’ she thought with an inward sigh, shaking her head slightly before focusing her attention back on Eva.
"Eva," she called, her voice cutting through the girl’s stupor. Eva jolted back to reality, hurrying to her ntor’s side.
Oliveria knelt to et Eva’s gaze, her eyes serious. She leaned in, whispering intently into the girl’s ear, "Fight with the intention to kill."
The words struck Eva like a lightning bolt, freezing her in place as she grappled with the gravity of such a request. Never before had she contemplated taking another’s life, let alone soone she yearned to befriend.
She thought back to what little she could rember about the first four years of her life. She never had any friends; the closest she ca to friends were other kids who bullied and laughed at her. Those quickly turned to fear, causing her to beco isolated. Seeing soone her age, who was willing to talk to her despite being a dark elf, was a first for her. She wanted friends, too; she wanted soone to play around with, soone she was down for any ga with, as long as it didn’t involve stabbing each other. She was ga. She resolved to befriend him no matter what.
So when she heard what her ntor just requested of her, she instinctively answered.
"No," with a resolute tone.
"*Sigh, do as you wish then," Oliveria said, her voice tinged with resigned acceptance. "Just do your best to win."
Before long, Alaric and Eva stood across from one another, ready to face the challenge before them. Eva clasped her hands together, a wooden sword poised at the ready, apprehension and determination mingling in the air as they prepared to clash.
Eva’s fingers intertwined tightly, her wooden sword held at an angle, pointing to the earth, as she called out, "Vishna Kahul," her voice a blend of determination and urgency.
Alaric stood a few paces away, bewildernt flickering across his features. ’Is this so ancient battle salute?’ he wondered, tilting his head ever so slightly in confusion. Old Tian had never shared such customs with him, leaving him to navigate this unfamiliar territory alone. Trying to adhere to the unspoken rules of combat honour, he mirrored her posture, but a ripple of uncertainty washed over him. "Vishna—"
Before he could finish the invocation, an oppressive weight settled upon him, flooding him with dread. His tongue twisted rebelliously in his mouth, and beads of sweat traced a cold path down his spine, as his heart drumd a frantic beat against his ribcage. His pupils widened, a claustrophobic fear tightening its grip around him, an instinctual warning echoing in his mind: do not utter that na. Alaric had prided himself on his courage, yet at that mont, he stood like a statue, paralysed by a force he couldn’t comprehend.
’What is happening to ?’
Eva and Olivia, oblivious to his internal struggle, perceived only his paling complexion and the trembling flutter of his body as he gasped out a single syllable, "Vishna."
Eva’s brow knitted in concern as she called out to him, "Alaric, are you okay?"
In an instant, her voice snapped him back into reality, jolting him as if he had been awakened from a profound dream. The frigid sweat still clung to him, a stark reminder of the fear that had enveloped him, but he fought to regain his composure.
"It’s alright. Let’s begin," he declared, his voice steadier than he felt as he twirled his staff with a flourish. But as he did, he sensed an unmistakable shift in the air around Eva, a palpable vitality that was impossible to ignore.
When he first laid eyes on her, lurking behind Olivia like a timid sheep, he had underestimated her capabilities despite recognising her training. Now, however, the softness had vanished from her expression, replaced by a fierce resolve, and her stance radiated a quiet power. A strange, iridescent aura coiled itself around her wooden sword, distorting the very air around it like a heatwave shimring on a sumr’s day.
This sheep was a wolf all along.
’What the hell kinda BS is this?’ He thought this would be an easy wirecognisinging everything he had learned during their month-long journey. Still, seeing as even his intuition is telling him he might lose, he couldn’t help but adopt a serious expression.
With Olivia, Space beside her, twisted as Old Tian appeared with a solemn expression. Seeing him like this brought a smirk to her face. She was joyful knowing the man who had broken her heart for a long ti was about to lose to her.
"Is that...?" Old Tian asked in bafflent.
Still smirking, knowing full well what he was asking. "Yes, that is resonance. She unlocked it about two months ago."
"Do you still think he would win this fight?"
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