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Chapter 20: A Familiar... Name?

  There was a lot to think about, and even if I kept blatantly ignoring the warning signs, I knew things would boil over.

  Yet…

  Later. It doesn’t have to be today, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow either. Everyone is so pressed to get me to fix my shit but they're not me. They are right, I can’t keep having outbursts. I’ll need to use Galarion more. Still…

  A single thread of not mana but willpower brought the contents of Chomperz’s stomach to mind. It took some finding but I knew where to look even if everything in my body protested the very idea.

  It sat there, hidden in the back beyond the usual spaces of where things rested in the void. Almost blanketed by the material around it, the chest with chains—now that it was found—stood out like a blaring sorespot. It glowed with malevolent golden light that created a pit in my stomach.

  With a simple probe, the lightest touch, it sent a wave of scathing energy into my thoughts. It screamed agony at my nerves and filled my nose with smoke and burning oil. My arm ached and my stomach itched with pain.

  Nooo!

  I pulled back and steadied myself against a pillar. My breathing hitched and I clutched at my arm. My thoughts scrambled to find an anchor but the darkness and the smoke plowed through the semblance of order and scattered it. Slowly, my vision turned dark and I felt my knees wobble.

  Ding!

  A chime bell from deep within me pulled me back and my mind grabbed onto the anchor like a drowning man. I sputtered and coughed while bracing myself. My knees still felt weak but I used my tail to push against the ground and stand upright. As my breathing settled, I felt something slick drip down my arm and I stared. Long gashes had shred through the fabric of my sleeve, revealing pale skin underneath. Thanks to my illusion in place from the enchanted earrings I knew it would reveal only shredded white fur instead of skin.

  That didn’t stop an attendant that hovered near the upper booths from noticing me and rushing over. I quickly raised my hand to ward him off.

  “It’s fine. Please return to your post,” I commanded.

  It sounded unconvincing, but the attendant was well trained. He nodded slowly without saying a word and jogged to his previous position. With an impressive level of control he pointedly ignored me as I walked by and headed for the under arena. It helped that by the time I reached the final step of the stairs, my hoodie had started fixing itself with a small influx of mana. And my regeneration went to work to lessen the wounds.

  Still might need to summon áine. Annoying but Myol already knows I can heal.

  Thanks to my mask, my thoughts were kept to myself and I stopped next to Myol; something that was becoming habitual. But to be fair, she looked as if she had something to say and when I cocked my head, her eyes darted to my arm.

  “You’re injured,” she grunted.

  Yep. Very astute.

  “Self inflicted. An accident, I assure you,” I replied.

  Her eyes narrowed but the barrier appeared around us, sealing us from the prying eyes in the corner.

  “Will I expect any more trouble from you?”

  I frowned. “Can you tell me if my next opponent uses fire?”

  A beat passed and I was afraid I overstepped, but she tapped her bicep for a few seconds before shaking her head.

  “No. You’ll be fighting a martial combatant. I won’t say more.”

  More than you had to. I guess I’ll stop being such an ass.

  “No, that’s more than enough,” I said, lightly bowing. “You’ll have no worries, I won’t be using that skill in this match.”

  “And if it was an opponent who used fire-based mana?” she asked.

  “Then I suppose I would have to live up to my title.”

  The barrier faded and she pointed her chin toward the left tunnel.

  “Move along, prospect. Don’t make the crowd wait.”

  I headed down the tunnel and summoned my spear. I felt its weight in my hand and gave it a quick spin, letting the bone blade slice cleanly through the air. The enchantments inside the weapon stood out to me, now more than ever. But I hadn’t touched them, beyond giving them a cursory glance.

  I still need to get a caster made and they did look at the runes for a bit…

  The thought of having to talk to Lezka’s brother made me squirm. I fully understood why Sereza had been avoiding them. Just the thought of looking into hollow eyes was enough to keep me away.

  You’re scatterbrained Cyrus, get a grip.

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  I stopped spinning my spear and listened to the sounds filtering through the tunnel. The crowd was as excited as ever.

  A martial talent, even if they had other skills the most likely scenario would be physical boosting abilities. More than likely a weapon ability similar to Sereza’s spectral blades or an amplified skill like Teddy’s Crushing Radiance.

  Both sounded interesting, though if it was a ranged attack like Sereza’s blades then I wasn’t sure I had an easy counter besides using Magnus, and as cavalier as I had been so far with showing off my skills, he was something I wanted to keep in the backpocket. A reflection skill was rare enough, a skill that could absorb and redirect would be ever rarer. Few would have a good counter to it, and if I made it into the finals, it’d make for a nasty surprise.

  Mana threaded into my skill and áine appeared inside my hoodie. I avoided patting her head, knowing that Myol most likely had a way to watch the tunnels as well as the arena.

  Hmmm… Something different then. Need to do more testing.

  “áine what do you think of fighting while transformed?”

  Almost immediately I could feel the discomfort radiate through the link. It wasn’t exactly a protest, as I knew áine was fully willing to get violent if she had to. But I recognized the awkwardness for what it was.

  I stopped just before exiting the tunnel and breathed in as the roaring crowd settled into my chest.

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to. It was just a thought,” I said softly.

  She nodded and gently placed her palm along my back. Healing mana surged through the chest and into my arm, sealing the cuts and returning the wounds to unblemished skin.

  I sent my gratitude through the link and started walking forward. My opponent was already waiting for me, looking impatient.

  Curly black hair with an almost blueish tint framed a smooth face without a strand of facial hair. Nearly androgynous, except for the squared chin, it was hard to pinpoint his gender with the leather armor, but judging from the hips he was likely male. The unnatural hair was glossed over as I scanned his face. Inside black irises, glittering stars shone throughout their pupils.

  I recognized the features of house Ajestella, but even without the common evolution marker displaying their connection to the nobles, the armor and spear gave it away. They were clean, and well crafted, it fitted his frame and called to my senses. There was an enchantment weaved into the stitch near the collar, but what I couldn’t tell. Similar enchantments were inside the boots as well, and only then did I notice a possible explanation for the mana.

  Even standing at nearly six feet, the sand beneath them looked nearly undisturbed.

  Weight distribution?

  I was disrupted from my examination by the announcer’s voice thundering throughout the arena.

  “The mysterious changeling who entered this arena with an arsenal of deadly skills. The dark beast who savagely defeats their opponents at their own game… The Tyrant! MOOORDREEEED!”

  “These names are getting ridiculous,” I snorted.

  “Hmm,” the man hummed.

  I cocked my head and waited for the announcer.

  “And from the right field, a young man new to the arena scene but well known amongst the adventuring nobles! A pointed star who swings his spear and cuts down his foes with precision and deadly grace! Isaac Ajestella!”

  Isaac? Oh, this will be cathartic.

  As the cheering died, I started to move to the starting line but a finger pointed my way halted my movements.

  “Yes,” I asked.

  “You!” Isaac shouted. “A talented fool should know when to stop. Lest they fall down the steps they coveted so dearly.”

  I sighed. “What in the fuck are you talking about?”

  His eyebrows pinched and he scanned my face with cold calculation before harrumphing.

  “If you are unbacked by a noble line, then know the houses have seen your attempt. I can guarantee that despite your impending loss, you will be readily accepted into our house. And while house Ajestella can appreciate the thrashing of the other houses, such blatant disrespect cannot go unpunished.”

  “What? Seriously?”

  Isaac nodded.

  “Do not worry. I shall keep the injuries to an acceptable level. Your defeat will be painful, but nothing more than you can handle.” He paused and regarded me coolly. “And if it proves too much, then you were unfit for our house to begin with.”

  I was ever thankful my mask had the option for manual control. My jaw dropped so wide, I nearly choked.

  The idiot nodded and mistook my pause for careful consideration as he lowered his spear and assumed an imperial position. His grip would have seen my wrist broken as punishment for such idiocy if I used it on Eodyne. And front how carelessly he puffed up his chest and maintained a domineering stance, he truly thought me incapable of winning.

  My fingers curled and my eyes narrowed. “Tell me something, pretty boy.”

  “Excuse me?” the idiot Isaac sputtered.

  “You’re excused after I beat your sorry ass. Now answer my question.”

  “You haven’t even ask-”

  “Do you know of any other Isaac in the noble houses?”

  The man I dubbed ‘Idiot Isaac’ squinted. “Only of the black stain against the Dawnborn line. The failure, Isaac Dawnborn. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. But I finally decided how I was going to humiliate you.”

  His jaw clenched. “And how would that be? Lightning again?”

  I shook my head and moved into position. With a flick I planted my spear into the sand and cracked my neck.

  “Do not bite the hand that graces your mouth, Mordred,” Idiot Isaac spat.

  I said nothing and sent mana into the ring on my right hand. It had been another tool I had underutilized, not that there was much reason for me to do so. But now? I let the enchantment fall into place and deafen the noise of the crowd. As more mana pushed into the band, the more isolated I became. Soon, all that was left was my heartbeat; and it drummed calm and steady.

  The noble must given up because he took his place and the first alarm rang.

  I hope you’re watching Isaac.

  Mana thrummed and I willed it into my soulspace. There was confusion, and excitement from my familiar as the energy connected to the skill and dragged his soul into the physical world.

  For a brief moment, I thought of directing my familiar to appear atop my head, but I decided against it. The payoff for displaying the unexpected critter wouldn’t be nearly worth the compromise to my anonymity. Instead, I had them manifest directly against my chest and underneath the fabric of my hoodie. It was enough to catch the noble’s eye like I wanted but as they stared I changed my mask’s display.

  From three eyes to eight, and instead of a fanged grin, it was replaced by a mockery of pointed teeth. For added measure, I made it match the color of his eyes, giving the same quality of glittering starlight to the ink.

  Mana slipped into Spirit Lord’s Invocation and my familiar sank into my body. I held up my arms and stretched, not bothering to hide the shell of bone that engulfed my fingers. From the tips, dark mana bubbled and slid into the shadows casted by the noon sun. They felt physical, solid in a way that shouldn’t be.

  Idiot Isaac’s eyes widened in surprise at the change. With deliberate movements that allowed my sleeve to slip and reveal the beginnings of my arm covered in the same bone-white chitin, I gripped my spear and pointed it toward the noble.

  “I hope you're worth more than your bark because I have some frustration in need of release. You wouldn’t mind, right?” I asked, letting my voice growl and scratch the air.

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