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Rise of the Archon: Book 3, Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2025-10-22 06:34:19 +0000 UTCContrary to what I expected, we didn't proceed into the mansion. Instead, Flynn led the way to one of the other buildings, a shorter and wider construction built halfway up the hilly incline. Made entirely of stone, it gave off a feeling of strength and sturdiness.
We walked through the entrance, and I followed Flynn down hallways and past doors covered in complex runic designs and circles. I couldn't tell what these markings did at a glance, but the mana coming off them told a story of their own. One felt like fire mana, another earth, a third wind, and so on. Was that a coincidence or purposeful?
I had my answer when we stopped before a huge wooden door covered in markings for suns and stars and life. Light mana rippled off of it, but strangely, the energy beyond it felt almost...dull?
No, not dull. Smothered. Whatever was beyond this door was being hidden in a way, blocked from my senses.
I glanced at Flynn, who smiled and half-shrugged before opening the door and stepping through. After a moment, I followed.
The space past that runic door reminded me of the training rooms within the Academy, albeit several times as large. It was squared off with a high ceiling and reinforced stone walls covered in markings for strength and resilience. These magical carvings whispered in a voice of sunlight, drawing upon the ambient light mana around us.
Targets hung in the air, some larger than my torso, others the size of my head, and others still smaller than a clenched fist. Ribbons of mana flowed around each of the circular wooden objects, moving them along the walls like mice darting between bits of foliage.
A man stood in the center of the training room. He was tall and heavily built, shirtless with thick pants and boots. Dense muscles covered his frame, along with a thin sheen of sweat. Scars marred his tanned skin, ranging from long, thin silver lines likely caused by a blade to rounded pockmarks that I suspected came from either crossbow bolts or fangs.
I reached out with my mana senses, trying to get a gauge for the man. But despite bracing myself, I still winced and recoiled involuntarily.
Light mana swirled around his body in great eddies. The energy twisted and whirled, held under his command by an inexorable will. Nothing, not even the faintest motes in the corner of the room, escaped his control, and I doubted Flynn could pull even a flicker of this power under his own dominion.
I reached out again, mostly on a hunch, and found that there wasn't even a hint of Aether. In fact, there wasn't any mana besides light within this chamber. Such a feat wasn't impossible or even particularly complex, but it spoke to the Sion's wealth and resources. Based on the rooms I had already passed, they had chambers for all common elements.
The man in the center of the room was unmoving and silent, even as seconds stretched into minutes. The energy around us continued to swirl and twist, but he didn't make so much as a single twitch.
Then, after nearly five minutes, he moved.
His left hand rose in an almost lazy motion with palm up and fingers half-spread. It was as though he was cupping something invisible. Light mana concentrated within his grip, an orb of golden energy forming in less than a second. This sphere shone like the sun, only the faintest ripples along its surface revealing that it was spinning.
The man examined it for a few seconds before flicking his hand out in another casual motion. He thrust his palm out, fingers facing towards one of the walls, and I felt the mana within that orb change.
The bolt flashed, transforming instantly into dozens of hair-thin beams. They shot across that gap, each one spearing a single target through the bullseye. There wasn't even a hint of wasted energy or lacking accuracy, with only a single, neat hole burned through each of the wooden circles.
Such an attack could've killed twenty men as easily as it had destroyed fifty targets. Yet even as the light faded, another orb had already formed within the man's hand. He turned and flicked his arm again, and another volley of golden beams flew with the same impossible speed and accuracy.
Before the attack had finished, his right arm was rising to join the left's deadly dance. Like a conductor, both hands moved with fluid grace and seemingly effortless control. Twenty beams became forty, and forty grew to eight as a web of aureate death wove around us.
I noticed as he worked that the angle of his hands and wrists seemed to do something, as though this minor change in physical stance and motion somehow affected mana flow.
That was what struck me most, I realized. Power was all well and good, but the sheer control needed for such a feat was monstrous. This mage was gathering up a dense orb of light mana, then breaking apart and reforming it into projectiles to hit dozens of targets. And not only could he do such a feat in seconds, but every strike used only as much mana as was needed to scorch the bullseye.
I would've needed ten times as long to accomplish one tenth the feat. A shiver ran down my back, a mixture of fear and exhilaration, though mostly the latter. If I could prove myself worthy, then...
Suddenly, the demonstration ended. The targets fell still, the mana around us settled, and the room grew silent. Slowly, the shirtless man lowered his arms, though he hadn't yet turned to face us.
"Welcome home," the man said. His voice was hard and cold as stone, utterly without a hint of genuine warmth, yet more high-pitched than I expected.
"Thank you, father," Flynn replied, bowing his head towards the man. "An impressive showing. If I may be so bold, you've gotten even faster."
One target flew across the room to smack into the shirtless man's palm. He turned it over, and I saw that one of his attacks had sailed wide. Rather than spearing the bullseye, it had flown to the right, missing by a finger's width.
"Speed is nothing without proper control," the man said, a hint of frustration coloring his tone. "This is your guest, I take it?"
Flynn cleared his throat, stepping forward and replying, "Yes, my lord father. May I present Vayne, Aether mage, former advisor-in-training to the Esttons, and the latest member of our household. As I explained in my letter, I decided to—"
"Leave us," Duke Sion interrupted.
"Forgiveness, father, but no. I brought Vayne here, and you've always demanded that I speak honestly and—"
The Duke waved his hand again, and a flash of light filled the room. I winced, blocking my eyes with my arm and turning away. When my vision cleared, I looked back to find that Flynn had vanished.
How...?
Ah, spatial magic. The Duke must have teleported his son away with that gesture, which seemed impossible. The level of control needed to travel even a few hundred feet was rare. To move another so effortlessly beggared belief.
I itched to ask the Duke about it, even though every instinct suggested such an action might come across as insulting. Instead of succumbing to the temptation, I bowed my head.
I itched to ask the Duke about it, even though every instinct within me cautioned against such action. Instead of putting voice to my questions, I bowed my head.
"It's an honor to meet you, Duke Sion. Your skill is even more impressive than I had imagined."
I straightened and, a second later, the Duke finally deigned to face me.
Duke Sion looked young, barely out of his twenties, with features nearly identical to Flynn's. They shared the strong jaw, clean-shaven face, and striking amber eyes. Like his son, his hair was burnished gold, but he wore it shorter and neater.
He examined me for several seconds, his face unreadable.
"You're the one that bested my son back in Aresford?" the Duke asked after a time.
I remembered what Flynn had said and nodded once. "Yes, my lord. It was a stroke of luck combined with preparation and the element of surprise, not skill."
"Humility?" he asked, scorn flickering in his eyes.
"Honesty," I corrected with a smile. "I'm still not the match for your son, as the last few weeks have proven, and I don't see the value in pretending otherwise."
The Duke grunted. "And you think you're worthy of joining my family?"
I nodded once. "Yes."
"Then prove it," the Duke said. "Strike me."
I had expected something like this, but it still caught me off guard. The Duke saw as much, and the scorn returned to his eyes.
"Of course, but my spear is back with the carriage. Could we send someone to—"
A spear clattered to the ground between us, pulled by the noble seemingly from thin air. It was longer than my standard weapon, with a blue ribbon attached just below the tip. I examined it for a second, then nodded my thanks.
I dropped into a crouch, drawing upon my core even as I moved. Aether flowed through my body, reinforcing my muscles and bones far beyond what a natural human could achieve. When those smooth loops had stabilized, I reached in again and crafted my Armor. Might as well show the Duke two spells while I had the chance.
The world vanished as I lunged, shooting forward in a blur of motion. My spear flashed, the blade whistling as it parted the air. It was a perfect thrust, if I could be so bold, the product of thousands upon thousands of repetitions, and I doubted any mage my age could hope to stop it.
I slammed into something invisible, maybe two feet from the Duke's body. Golden light flashed, and I slid off the unseen barrier. My momentum carried me forward and to the right, and I caught myself after a few stumbling steps, turning back to face the noble.
"Was that it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Pitiful. Again."
I drew more deeply on my core even as I returned to my crouch. My mind considered the barrier around the Duke and how I might be able to penetrate it. I couldn't, of course, but trying to would impress the man more than giving up.
Flicker Step settled into place in my body, the raging streams surging through my legs in a current that would've injured any other gaseous mage. When I moved the second time, it was as a phantom of green and black.
I reached the Duke in two Steps, coming in low and striking high. My thrust carried all the momentum I could manage, and it was just as unsuccessful. Worse, my spear creaked and bent before it snapped entirely. The tip flew away, bouncing along the reinforced floor, and I stared at it for a second before taking a few steps away and bowing my head.
"Apologies, my lord, but—"
Another spear appeared, this one with a red ribbon, and the Duke folded his arms across his chest.
"Faster, but still pathetic. Again."
There was something in his eyes, almost challenging. I thought back to what Flynn had told me, hidden within his carriage and away from prying eyes.
"My father appreciates talent and boldness. He doesn't respect mages who are too afraid of impropriety to push themselves. If you try to avoid offending him, you'll never impress him."
Slowly, I let out a low breath, trying to release some of the tension from my back. Distantly, I realized Fortunatus was still in the room with me. The feline had taken up a spot near the door, and I could feel his eyes on me even as haughty pride burned through our connection. He didn't like falling short either.
I pulled yet deeper on my core, finding that my reserves had already dropped by about a quarter. Prolonged fights didn't drain my stamina as much as before, but they were still a problem. But I had more than enough for what I had planned.
Mana flowed through my left hand, surging down and into my borrowed spear. While it wasn't a weapon I had prepared for such a spell, I had trained on enough materials that I was confident I could keep it from breaking apart for a few seconds at least. A brief twinge of pain shot through my head as the strain of maintaining four spells at once started to mount.
I almost moved then, but the sheer disdain within Duke Sion's eyes held me in place. His son might think I was good enough, but he obviously disagreed. He believed I was a weakling, a pathetic mage.
And I wanted to prove him wrong.
So, I reached out and cast my fifth spell.
A dagger of solid green Aether flew from behind my back, where I had kept it hidden and sheathed. It was the best construct I had made so far, marked along the flat of its blade with runes for my Mana Edge spell. I drew on it with my mind, willing it to come to a stop just over my right shoulder.
Pain became a throbbing headache, and I narrowed my eyes against the sharp stabs behind my temples. My core and channels could handle damn near anything, but I had a long way to go until I could maintain so many spells at once.
The Duke didn't move a single muscle, but he did spare me one nod. "Permanency. Uncommon at your age."
"Thanks," I replied, returning his nod. Then, I crouched low and moved.
I didn't attempt some clever, subversive attack, though not for lack of trying. I simply lacked the control to do anything more than will the dagger forward. Despite this, I couldn't help but grin as my dagger closed the gap in a blur.
Green mana flowed around the blade, strengthening and sharpening it to a razor point. It was so fast I doubted any regular person could even see it, and I knew from my testing that it would punch through stone and wood without stopping.
The blade crashed into Sion's defenses with an ear-splitting crack. His shield wavered, briefly turning visible, and I could both see and sense that my attack had done nothing. There wasn't even a hint that the barrier had taken damage, though the fact that it had appeared suggested my attack had drawn something from the Duke's core.
My follow-up charge was staggered so that I would reach Sion just a second after my daggers. However, as I charged, something whispered in the back of my mind. It wasn't the voice of experience, but rather something else. Instincts I couldn't quite place spoke, suggesting another method of attack.
After a moment's thought, I followed those instincts.
I slid to a stop just a few feet from the Duke's barrier. His eyebrow rose incrementally, but I ignored that as I pushed up and off the floor. A Flicker Step threw me up towards the ceiling at impossible speeds, fast enough that I would've cracked my head on the stone if not for my Arcane Body spell.
Moving on those same instincts, I twisted and rolled. Rather than crashing headfirst into the ceiling, I landed with my boots flush against the rocky surface. Momentum stuck me there for a moment, almost directly over the Duke's barrier. I had just enough time to adjust my grip just a hair before launching off again with another Flicker Step.
My spear slammed into the Duke's shield and practically disintegrated. Tiny shards bounced off my Armor, and I crashed into his barrier a half-second later. Momentum carried me to my knees, but I absorbed enough of the impact to jump off and land, taking a few steps before turning to face him. The solidified Aether dagger flew from where it had fallen after my failed attack, smacking into my palm with a dull thud.
I stood there for a few seconds, then relaxed and released my spells one by one. The Duke raised an eyebrow, though he remained motionless otherwise, and I smiled at him.
"If you'd permit me one final demonstration, my lord."
The Duke stared for a few seconds, then shook his head.
"I've seen enough."
My heart seized. I had intended to build up to Destruction, gradually showing the full breadth of my skills rather than showing everything at once. If the Duke had already decided, then—
Sion raised a hand towards me and flicked it with the same casual ease as the rest of his spellcasting. I had just enough time to see the flash of gold before his mana enveloped me entirely, the world vanishing in a blanket of light.
Comments
Diarmadhi
that ceiling jump was awesome. fight scenes are definitely improving. Vayne feels so much more visceral now that he has subconscious control of his spellcasting and a reinforced body
Kentucky Fried Children
Tftc I will soon sacrafice an orphanage in your honor havoc
