Chapter 150: Humanity’s Finest

Chapter 150: Humanity’s Finest

“It’s starting! It’s starting!” Roy said, bouncing from foot to foot. “We need to get inside!”

“Patience Roy, we’re at the front of the line.” Lucia said, placing a comforting hand on her younger brother’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe you have an Academy token!” Ella was saying to Leif, the first year student just as excited as Roy, only she was doing a worse job at hiding it. “You should have said something earlier! Associates of the Academy can use privileges and facilities most visitors cannot!”

“If you couldn’t tell from the mask, I’m trying not to attract too much attention.”

“Really? The mask is pretty eye-catching though.”

Leif tilted his head in acknowledgement. That was a fair point. Maybe he should have worn the plain wooden mask instead of the painted one he had bought from a market stall in Ahle-ho. Well, it's too late now. He thought, an official waving him and the others inside. The rumble of the crowd and the booming voice of the announcer washed over them as they climbed up into the outer ring of the stands. The sheer mass of humanity was an almost physical blow to the senses.

Roy covered his ears and shouted something to Lucia. The girl shook her head, then pointed towards a section of the stands where the press of people was relatively less.

“Oh wow, oh wow.” Ella said, clapping her hands together as they made their way around the outside of the upper most level. The announcer had just finished introducing the tenth blade. “I can’t believe we made it in time for the start of the fight. I can’t believe they let us skip right to the front of the queue!”

“I’m certainly not complaining.” Leif replied, though his attention was on the arena itself. There was a strange barrier blocking his aura, and the aura of all the spectators from entering the almost one hundred and fifty metre long stretch of sand. It partially reminded him of the protective barriers the sparring yards in the Twin Heart guild, but the aura rejecting component had more in similarity to the suppression bracers. He still missed them. He should buy some if he got the chance.

They were halfway to the sparsely populated side of the arena when the crowd roared and two figures stepped out onto the sand. From their distance, Leif and the others could just make out both combatants. A feat made easier as the field surrounding the innermost ring of the structure rippled, the effect somehow zooming in wherever Leif wanted to look. Roy almost walked into a trio of students, the boy staring in amazement at the magical display.

The closest blade to where they were was a tall, severe looking man who was likely within his later twenties, though with the slowed ageing of higher levels it was possible he could be quite a bit older. He had short grey hair that was neatly swept back from his face. Leif couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but from the arrogant tilt of his head he was likely looking down on his opponent.

The other was a welcome sight. It had been a year, or thereabouts, since he had last seen Hera. The woman still sported the same long blond hair and confident expression she had back during the expedition. A bow of conjured light was held loosely in one hand, the other was placed on her hip.

“That’s quite the enchantment.” Leif said appreciatively, nodding to the vision affecting shield. “I wonder how it works?”

“There’s an Academy legend about the team of students who discovered the arena control room and helped reverse engineer and repair the enchantments.” Ella yelled over the cheering crowd. “Well, not all the enchantments are working. But all the key one’s are functional. Other than the teleport arches. But I think that’s a power supply issue. Maybe? I’m not sure.”

The announcer started counting down to the beginning of the match. The crowd joined in on the count of eight.

“C’mon sis!” Roy said, tugging at Lucia’s hand. The girl had stopped in place and was staring down into the arena.

“I- Right. Let's go.” She said, shooting a look at Leif before grabbing Roy by the hand and leading him the final stretch of the way to a quartet of open seats. They had to squeeze past a group of orange uniformed students who were on their feet, Roy plopping down into the closest seat only to be shooed onwards by Lucia.

“Begin!” The announcer screamed, and both figures in the arena blurred into motion.

I can’t believe it took her, Kaan, Pocht and that damn orc fighting together to defeat that awakened enslaver. Just how much stronger had that thing been? Leif wondered, clapping appreciatively.

“It was too fast!” Royce was complaining to Lucia. “I didn’t see enough of it!” For her part, his sister looked stunned, staring blankly down at the arena’s sandy floor.

“Right? That’s what the strongest of us are like!” Ella said. “Humanity’s finest, that's who the Academy Blades are!”

Healers in white robes were sprinting up to Kastro as the woman held the man’s severed arm up to his shoulder. One of the healers made his way to Hera’s side but she waved him away.

“Who’s the woman?” Leif asked, nodding towards the scene below.

“That’s Blade Daniela Low. She’s the seventh Blade, she’s the older... cousin I think. Yeah, older cousin of Kastro. There’s another Blade from House Low as well, Zane. He’s the second. They say he’s the strongest of them all, even if he’s only number two in seniority.”

“Three from one house, huh? Impressive.” Leif said. It was an honest assessment. Relatively weak compared to the monsters that lurked outside the humanities territory that may be, it was still a formidable feat to boast multiple level one hundred and above combatants.

The invisible barrier around the arena rippled, then vanished, the vision projecting enchantment disappearing with it. As one, the aura’s of the spectators flooded down into the sight of the battle like a waterfall cascading off a cliff. Leif had never been around so many high level people before, and even after his months of training it still felt like a chaotic mess of intentions, emotions and power signatures.

===

Hera blinked, buffeted by the onslaught of presences vying for her attention. She waved again, the slowly quieting crowd letting out another round of cheers. The pressure that had slowly been bearing down on her mind throughout the fight was drifting away, the mental assault she had been under for the duration finally letting her think straight.

“Bloody hells.” She muttered, glancing tiredly at where Kastro was being helped off the sands. “The Low’s have another monster. Unbelievable.”

She shook her head and started walking back towards her entrance. The corners of her vision still shifted with unseen threats and terrors. That was not pleasant to fight. Can’t imagine if I actually had to get close to deal significant damage, that would not have ended well for me.

The higher level someone got, the stronger their mental fortitude became. [Willpower] was a factor, certainly. As were skills such as her own [Mastery over the Self and Battle]. It had been... what? Years since she had endured a mental attack of that kind. Well, that's another thing to add to the training regime. No rest for the wicked, Hera. Literally, I’m going to have nightmares for days after this.

She flared her aura, pushing away a greasy aura from someone who tried to analyse her. Probably one of the faction representatives from Mekrylis. They should know better, but some people were too used to not having to deal with consequences. Then something tapped the edge of her attention. It was a polite greeting, but more importantly it was a familiar greeting.

Lars? Hera thought, turning to look up at the crowd. She hadn’t thought of the aura prodigy in years. Frowning, she scanned for the source. The tap came again, this time guiding her attention upwards and to the left. Not Lars then, this presence doesn’t feel like him. It’s more... noble-

She locked eyes with a masked man sitting up in the highest level of the stands. Hera snorted, then laughed.

Well, isn’t this a nice surprise. She thought, nodding slightly towards Leif before turning away. Then she missed a step. What if he’s pissed about the letters?