CHAPTER 85

  LEARNING THE ROOTS

  “Reaching fifth circle and hitting grade sixty. Man, these are the tough odds.” Hans turned to his friends. Chris could go beyond grade sixty with the imperial bloodline, but Delimira was still in her third circle. “She depends too much on her beastly lineage and Krosh arts.” He looked at her, his eyes radiating mana flow, clearer than ever. “Well, I guess she might form the fourth any day now.”

  Hans turned to the man he didn’t want to see anymore but still had to. “I guess I was the only one who didn’t know.” He looked at his fellow classmates; no one was as surprised as him. “A mage with no circles, I’ll be the exception here as always.”

  “What are you mumbling, buddy?” Chris nudged him.

  “Nothing. Just the thought of standing in the Deadlands with the means to shred those ugly things—it’s exhilarating.”

  “Well, if you didn’t feel that way, then you wouldn’t be the Ripper of Galenhall—”

  “Stop saying that, man, it’s getting old.” Hans sighed; he was tired of hearing the same thing again and again.

  “I thought you’d like your first title.” Chris was almost sure.

  “Yeah, I did.” Hans nodded in affirmation, adding, “Until it became the only thing people talked about. It’s tiring and—”

  “People now know the Mystic Glades belongs to him.” Delimira silently chimed in, hitting close. “Now focus on the front. He is going to tell about the Deadlands’ geography.”

  “Fine! Fine! Winters. I’m listening.” Hans turned towards Zephyr, and Chris followed.

  “—The outskirts of the Deadlands is where you’d find the infantry. The mindless Two-hands, and the deeper you go, the more likely you are to find stronger enemies.” Zephyr was explaining until a student interrupted him.

  “Senior Zephyr,” he addressed politely. “Didn’t you say there are four kings?”

  “Yes. I was getting into it… let’s just get into it then.” Zephyr looked afar in thought and put them into the words. “The most probable location of the four kings is right in the middle of the Deadlands. Let’s say the central part is divided into four, each ruled by the king class Red demon.”

  But before we go further. “You guys do know you won’t get just admission to the graduation test just by reaching the bare minimum power level, right?” He scanned the class, finding the answer, and some students responded in chorus.

  “Yeah, we need recommendations.”

  “Exactly.” Zephyr turned around, “That is why you should do well in acquiring a good apprenticeship because knowledge and practical experience are different things.”

  “Ah, man. What should I do for almost two years?” Hans thought hard. He was eager to jump right into the Deadlands, but the graduation event was way, way off. “Deli and Chris probably train with Grandma and Gramps. The dungeon is already a bust. This is hard—” Suddenly, a thought hit him and he stood up, garnering everyone’s attention.

  “Do you need something, Prince of Parv?” Zephyr’s expressions said out loud that he didn’t like this, but Hans wasn’t one to bother.

  “Washroom. I need to hit the washroom, it’s urgent.” Without getting any acknowledgement, Hans disappeared like a blip.

  Agrilands, ManEating Forest

  “So, you can now find me, foolish descendant?” Dietrich was taken aback when Hans sent a mana pulse to his precise location. “What kind of trouble are you in, then? Hurry, spit it out?”

  “Ancestor…you said, the only way for me to master the Power of Inheritance with aura, right?” Hans’s eyes searched for acknowledgment, and as Dietrich nodded in affirmation, “That’s easy then.” He closed his eyes and calmly said, “LOAD ELVEN CODEX.”

  As he painfully transformed into an elf, Dietrich’s unchanging face got contorted in every step. “What in the God’s name is this sorcery?”

  Panting, Hans answered, “Nothing. I just found a way to learn my roots.” Further stabilising himself, he inhaled hard. “Let’s talk with swords, ancestor.”

  “Very well then, but bear this. You’ve a lot of hard questions to answer later, my foolish elf-turned descendant.” A sword made of pure watery aura manifested in Hans’s hand. “Raise your sword and show me how much of our blood still remains in this whatever thing you call.”

  With a powerful swing and incredible lunging speed, Hans responded with deadly precision. “Good, good.” Dietrich effortlessly deflected one strike after another. “Finally, you feel like a Parvian. But if that’s all you’ve got, it’s even more mediocre than your father.”

  Hans continued relentlessly; the advantage he had was the incredible speed of an elf, and he wasn’t shy in using it.

  Nonetheless, Dietrich countered those quick strikes successively. And when Hans saw a momentary gap in his ancestor’s defence, he went ahead with a sharp vertical slash. “Very good, foolish descendant. You obviously didn’t fall for the trap but found a real flaw. Can you feel your blood boiling? Haan!” Excited, Dietrich motioned with a mighty upward counter, throwing the incoming sword high in the sky. And now his sword rested on Hans’s neck, while Hans’s rear rested on the ground.

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  “Impressive indeed.” For the first time, Hans saw excitement in Dietrich’s unchanging calm demeanour.

  “What’s impressive? You just handed my bottom,” he inquired, frustrated.

  “You ignored my intentionally lowering the guard. That is an impressive feat, little one. You even found a fraction of a gap in my defence. Guess, I can’t just treat you like the little kid I used to know.”

  Dietrich continued as Hans stared a hole in him. “I never taught an elf a sword before, not to mention an elf with the power of inheritance. I guess living long yielded this benefit.”

  Dusting off, he stood back. He recalled his conversation with Dietrich in the past. “You said, I will not be able to master the power of Inheritance fully—”

  “Yes, and it was not because you don’t have the imperial bloodline power.” Dietrich focussed gently, poking a finger in Hans’s chest. “It was because to harness the memories, you’ll have to wield aura because everyone before you did.”

  “So, you are going to teach me swordsmanship, right?” Hans’s eyes showed expectations.

  “Teach?” Dietrich scoffed, “I’m on cloud nine, kiddo. I want to see what you become. What do you call… this elf?”

  “Theodred. That’s the name I’ve chosen.”

  “The demigod of Clandor. Fine with me.” Dietrich manifested another sword, and Hans caught it as he threw it. “The best way to stimulate the Inheritance—”

  “Swordsmanship, right?” Hans motioned to the new water aura sword.

  “No, it’s through thorough beating.” For the first time, Dietrich had a sinister smile.

  “B..beating?” Hans felt ominous.

  “Yes. You need to find answers in your ancestral memory. But you need to have questions to get answers, right?” Dietrich got ready with an unfamiliar stance. Leaning forward with his sword resting on his left and pointed at the front. “Since you specialise in speed, I’ll face you with the agile sword of Imperials.”

  Clasping both hands on the hilt and positioning the sword forward, Hans got ready with the most reasonable stance against the fast swords. He took on pure defence with no visual gap. “I’m ready—Swoosh!”

  In a flash, Hans found Dietrich’s sword on his neck. “What the—”

  “Again.” Dietrich stepped back, and the scene of him vanishing and his sword appearing around various vital parts of Hans kept repeating.

  While Hans was struggling against the excited Dietrich, Winters’ family was preparing to host a dinner. “Hey, where is Hans? You were supposed to fetch him.” Delimira questioned Chris, who came alone to their quarters.

  “How’d I know?” Chris argued. “He wasn’t in the Prophets—”

  “You are his first knight. You are supposed to know these kinds of things.”

  “Yeah! Yeah! If my supposed Lord wanted me to know, then he probably would have let me, Deli. Stop obsessing over little things. But aren’t you curious?” Chris shifted the topic with his eyes secretly glancing over the guest of tonight. “What do you think happened between Zephyr and Hans?”

  “That elf over there probably did something to irritate Senior Hans.” Vanir, who was currently the favourite student of many professors, Aredhel included, chimed in.

  “He is Zephyr. The youngest Dominion knight and a very good person to everyone.” Allynna, who came with Vanir, argued.

  “So, what?” Vanir raised his voice and made sure everyone could listen. “HE IS STILL NOTHING IN FRONT OF HANS PARV.”

  But on response, there was a subtle chuckle in Zephyr’s face. “I didn’t know there was a fanboy among our midst.”

  “Call me whatever. I don’t care. Just out of concern for the people who somewhat cherish you here. I’m going to say one thing — You’d die if you stood against him.”

  “Are you warning me or threatening me, third-year?”

  “No. None of those.” Vanir calmly said; there was no hint of provocation in his voice. “I’m just stating facts.” He said.

  “Hahaha!” Zephyr heartily laughed at the notion, but Vanir had no change in emotions. He just went to Aredhel and apologised for the disturbance he had caused.

  “Thanks for inviting me, Professor Winters. But I don’t dine with people I don’t like. Please understand.” Bowing his head a little, Vanir went back to the library.

  “Just what is his problem?” Allynna, who had fetched Vanir on Aredhel’s behest, asked.

  But in response, Aredhel sighed. “That Imperial brat is a bad influence.” She said, looking at the table. “I guess we are one person short for our dinner—”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Professor,” Zephyr calmly asked, “why did you invite a nameless Third-year to this… personal gathering? Did you see something about him?” Knowing how Aredhel had found herself in the past, Zephyr knew that if this clairvoyant showed interest in someone, there had to be more to them than meets the eye.

  “No.” Aredhel outright denied it.

  “Then?” Zephyr was puzzled.

  “He is a talent you should befriend, Zephyr, but seeing the tension between Hans Parv and you, I think that is out of the window. Just what happened between you two? I know the brat can be a handful sometimes, but you… you should’ve seen the advantage in currying favours with him.”

  Everyone was also curious to know the answer. They’d known Zephyr far more than they knew Hans. So, what Aredhel said made sense.

  “Things happened.” Zephyr shrugged off as he played with a spoon on the saucer. “But, Professor,” he stopped. “Does my name really mean this— that a kid wet behind the ears can threaten me and feel nothing?”

  “He is a blind follower.” Delimira answered. “Much like you. That elf is a prodigy in his own right. Most of Hans’ deadly firepower comes from his ingenuity.”

  “Then it’d be a shame if something happened to him, right?” Zephyr murmured lazily, swirling a crystal wine glass, the dark crimson liquid inside ready to wet the parched throat.

  “You said something?”Allynna, sitting right beside him, couldn’t help but catch those words.

  “Yeah… something.” Zephyr shifted his gaze to Delimira and Chris. “I’ve heard you two have grown quite a bit. Do you mind a Spar?”

  “I was just going to ask that.” Chris stood up quickly. “Let’s move out.”

  “And you?” Zephyr pointed to Delimira, struggling in her thoughts.

  “Yeah…whatever.” Her response was lukewarm, unlike what she was used to showing around him. Her small act turned Zephyr’s whole day bad, and Chris unknowingly suffered the youngest dominion knight’s wrath.

  When Chris was putting his everything against Zephyr, Hans was doing the same against Dietrich.