ARC 6-Winter War-38
The noisy area quiets down as the acolytes stop their conversations, all their gazes drawn to the three older men who come to a stop before them. Two of them are dressed in light armor, the uniform leather interrupted by metal chest pieces and gauntlets. The third man is dressed in a crimson robe with black embroidery in the design of birds.
They’re too old to be mistaken as anything other than instructors but one catches my attention. Only because he is looking our way.
I definitely wouldn’t have taken notice of him if not for his intense stare. The man is simply unremarkable. He has common enough brown hair, cut close to his head, and stern brown eyes. He’s short and stout, with broad shoulders that I bet makes him shell out a few extra crowns to his armorer. I suppose he has a strong presence but no more than anyone else assured of their strength. After facing down Kierra, he’s not in the least bit intimidating.
Mr. Talented and his commander, pfft, seem suitably impressed, paying rapt attention as one of the men steps forward, preparing to address us.
Alana leans toward me. Her slight frown speaks to her nerves. “I’m guessing the one who keeps looking this way is your wannabe teacher?”
“Yeah, that’s Sir Polluck. Knight of the Burning Embers Order and an accomplished light caster.”
“Hm. What’s his specialties?”
She blinks. “Specialties?”
“How does he fight?”
“Lou…you’re not thinking of fighting him, are you?”
“I don’t intend to, no, but fate rarely cares about my intentions.” From his heavy stare, I think the good knight does not approve of my associating with Alana. Seeing as he’s her father’s man, there’s good reason to believe the duke will feel the same. Should he decide to convince Alana to tow his agenda with physical force, there is a good chance he will use Sir Pucky there as his sword to sever our relationship. So, it won’t hurt to know what he can do.
Alana sighs heavily. “Polluck is known for disorientation tactics. I took my own style of covering my blade in light from him. It both blinds my opponent and makes the blade harder to track. He can do the same but on a much larger scale. He can blind a whole army or he can hide an army. When he fights, he covers his sword in light and creates several others as decoys.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Obviously, the sword in his hand is the real one.”
“Yes, but light can burn. It’s not safe to ignore them.”
“Hm. Anything else?”
“…there’s one spell he’s famous for. He can…become light.”
“…what?”
Alana shakes her head. “Don’t ask me how. I bet it’s a master level spell and no one leaks details on their trump cards. But I saw a demonstration during one of the fort’s tournaments. He cloaks his whole body in light and then he…moves forward. Too fast to see. For anyone to see. It’s said that he becomes as fast as light itself. It’s an amazing technique and it’s rumored no one can defend against it.”
Geneva.
[A conceptual use of his affinity I would say. Interesting. I had doubted your warriors capable of such advanced magic. Simply put, there are spells in which a caster can embody their affinity, though the spell is complicated and the cost is enormous, no matter how efficient the variables.]
You’re telling me he can really become light?
[Yes. With all the benefits and limitations that entails.]
Explain.
[There are few things faster than light, though I doubt the knight can truly achieve that level of speed. It would tear him apart. He would certainly be fast. Combined with a sharp sword, it is a very deadly combination.
[But, he also gains the conceptual weakness of light. Mainly, that speed would be constrained to a straight line, making his path easy to predict. I imagine he drops the spell just as he strikes with his blade but before then, he could easily be ‘deflected’, like any other ray of light. Anyway, he is no threat to us.]
Oh? I feel the same way but why are you so confident?
[We are the worst opponents for Polluck. Your eyes will neutralize his attempts at disorientation. Perhaps his light could burn through you but such attacks are made more effective when concentrated. As you are significantly stronger than him, the knight is unable to pin you down, which he would need to do if he wished to burn through your skin.
[Finally, his trump card is useless. Supposing he is able to use it without us properly defending, it allows him to deliver a single attack. A single lethal blow isn’t enough to stop you, let alone harm you. Your wives would be in a more precarious situation but I am capable of saving them from anything short of utter annihilation. The knight, on the other hand, will likely have drained his core to the point of no longer being able to function to pull off his ability, especially in the middle of a fight.]
I nod absently, having come to the same obvious conclusions. However, that spell is interesting. Could I do the same?
[I would advise building a solid foundation first. Without a coefficient in the thousands, such a spell could only be maintained for a second, perhaps less.]
I see. Does the same apply to you?
[Indeed. Efficiency has its limits.]
Never thought I’d hear you admitting you have limits. She tries very hard to craft an infallible persona which is quite easy to believe in.
[It would be problematic if you ordered me into a compromising position because I misrepresented my abilities.]
“That technique is impressive but it’s hardly something to be concerned about.”
“…if anyone else said that, I’d think they were either posturing or idiots but if might really not be a problem for you, huh?”
“Don’t worry. You don’t need him to learn that technique, though Geneva says it’s useless without a coefficient in the thousands.”
“I wasn’t too bothered about not learning it. Even if I had accepted instruction from Sir Polluck, I doubt he’d teach it to me. He already has a student that’s considered his inheritor. It’d be in bad taste to pass the technique on to someone else, even if I’m the daughter of the duke.”
Hm. If the master is ordered to fight us, what’s the chances his prized pupil doesn’t get involved? Not high. “You know this inheritor?”
She makes a funny expression. “I’ve met him. It…well…”
“Problem?”
“It’s the opposite. He used to oversee the training of the talents selected by my father sometimes. Unlike most, he never looked down on me and was encouraging. Brought us treats sometimes, gave extra instruction to anyone who was lagging behind, never had a bad word to say to anyone.”
“Did he also rescue cats from trees and help grandmas in the market?”
“You jest but you’re not wrong. He has a stellar reputation. Maybe even better than my father’s and the knights of Victory worship my father.”
I look at her in disbelief. “If he’s so great, why do you look so uncomfortable talking about him?” He sounds right up her alley. “Is he hiding some dark secret?” It wouldn’t be the first time someone put on a mask to gain the favor of others.
“No, and that’s the problem. He is genuinely a great person. And I’m…” She shakes her head. “No matter what you think of me, I’m no saint. Could never pretend to be. Back then, I was…really bitter. About everything. Being around someone with such a good heart was both relaxing and…very uncomfortable.”
I frown, trying to understand what she’s saying. She notices my confusion and sighs. “It’s like a farmer’s son going out for a night in the city with a group of noble sons. They could all be the best of friends—"
“Fat chance.”
“It’s a metaphor, Lou.” A metaphor that would never happen but I wave for her to continue. “As I was saying, they could all be the best of friends but the commoner would be uncomfortable. He’s going to be very aware of his status as they throw out gold crowns like they’re trash. Even if they try to include him, even if they say they don’t care, everything they do and say will make the division of their class that much more obvious.”
I think I get it. “So, this guy is so good, he makes you feel bad for not being as good?” Alana is a virtuous person. She hates the strong that bully the weak and will step forward to personally thwart injustice that crosses her path. But it isn’t necessarily done out of the goodness of her heart. She’s kind, though she pretends she isn’t, but her actions stem more from disgust at those types of action than empathy for the victims, I think.
She looks away. “You need to learn subtly…but yes. It’s suffocating.”
Mm. If she liked that kind of personality, she would have turned her nose up at me long ago. Our wants are different but at the core is the same selfishness. “Is he going to be a problem?”
“Not by himself but if his master asks him to fight…”
“So? Is he the same as Pucky?”
“Pucky—you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? He’s less skilled than his master in magic but is the better swordsman. They call him a genius when it comes to blades.”
“I think they’re ready to start,” Will announces loudly, drawing my attention back to the three men ready to address the acolytes heading for what could easily be their deaths.
ARC 6-Winter War-38
The noisy area quiets down as the acolytes stop their conversations, all their gazes drawn to the three older men who come to a stop before them. Two of them are dressed in light armor, the uniform leather interrupted by metal chest pieces and gauntlets. The third man is dressed in a crimson robe with black embroidery in the design of birds.
They’re too old to be mistaken as anything other than instructors but one catches my attention. Only because he is looking our way.
I definitely wouldn’t have taken notice of him if not for his intense stare. The man is simply unremarkable. He has common enough brown hair, cut close to his head, and stern brown eyes. He’s short and stout, with broad shoulders that I bet makes him shell out a few extra crowns to his armorer. I suppose he has a strong presence but no more than anyone else assured of their strength. After facing down Kierra, he’s not in the least bit intimidating.
Mr. Talented and his commander, pfft, seem suitably impressed, paying rapt attention as one of the men steps forward, preparing to address us.
Alana leans toward me. Her slight frown speaks to her nerves. “I’m guessing the one who keeps looking this way is your wannabe teacher?”
“Yeah, that’s Sir Polluck. Knight of the Burning Embers Order and an accomplished light caster.”
“Hm. What’s his specialties?”
She blinks. “Specialties?”
“How does he fight?”
“Lou…you’re not thinking of fighting him, are you?”
“I don’t intend to, no, but fate rarely cares about my intentions.” From his heavy stare, I think the good knight does not approve of my associating with Alana. Seeing as he’s her father’s man, there’s good reason to believe the duke will feel the same. Should he decide to convince Alana to tow his agenda with physical force, there is a good chance he will use Sir Pucky there as his sword to sever our relationship. So, it won’t hurt to know what he can do.
Alana sighs heavily. “Polluck is known for disorientation tactics. I took my own style of covering my blade in light from him. It both blinds my opponent and makes the blade harder to track. He can do the same but on a much larger scale. He can blind a whole army or he can hide an army. When he fights, he covers his sword in light and creates several others as decoys.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Obviously, the sword in his hand is the real one.”
“Yes, but light can burn. It’s not safe to ignore them.”
“Hm. Anything else?”
“…there’s one spell he’s famous for. He can…become light.”
“…what?”
Alana shakes her head. “Don’t ask me how. I bet it’s a master level spell and no one leaks details on their trump cards. But I saw a demonstration during one of the fort’s tournaments. He cloaks his whole body in light and then he…moves forward. Too fast to see. For anyone to see. It’s said that he becomes as fast as light itself. It’s an amazing technique and it’s rumored no one can defend against it.”
Geneva.
[A conceptual use of his affinity I would say. Interesting. I had doubted your warriors capable of such advanced magic. Simply put, there are spells in which a caster can embody their affinity, though the spell is complicated and the cost is enormous, no matter how efficient the variables.]
You’re telling me he can really become light?
[Yes. With all the benefits and limitations that entails.]
Explain.
[There are few things faster than light, though I doubt the knight can truly achieve that level of speed. It would tear him apart. He would certainly be fast. Combined with a sharp sword, it is a very deadly combination.
[But, he also gains the conceptual weakness of light. Mainly, that speed would be constrained to a straight line, making his path easy to predict. I imagine he drops the spell just as he strikes with his blade but before then, he could easily be ‘deflected’, like any other ray of light. Anyway, he is no threat to us.]
Oh? I feel the same way but why are you so confident?
[We are the worst opponents for Polluck. Your eyes will neutralize his attempts at disorientation. Perhaps his light could burn through you but such attacks are made more effective when concentrated. As you are significantly stronger than him, the knight is unable to pin you down, which he would need to do if he wished to burn through your skin.
[Finally, his trump card is useless. Supposing he is able to use it without us properly defending, it allows him to deliver a single attack. A single lethal blow isn’t enough to stop you, let alone harm you. Your wives would be in a more precarious situation but I am capable of saving them from anything short of utter annihilation. The knight, on the other hand, will likely have drained his core to the point of no longer being able to function to pull off his ability, especially in the middle of a fight.]
I nod absently, having come to the same obvious conclusions. However, that spell is interesting. Could I do the same?
[I would advise building a solid foundation first. Without a coefficient in the thousands, such a spell could only be maintained for a second, perhaps less.]
I see. Does the same apply to you?
[Indeed. Efficiency has its limits.]
Never thought I’d hear you admitting you have limits. She tries very hard to craft an infallible persona which is quite easy to believe in.
[It would be problematic if you ordered me into a compromising position because I misrepresented my abilities.]
“That technique is impressive but it’s hardly something to be concerned about.”
“…if anyone else said that, I’d think they were either posturing or idiots but if might really not be a problem for you, huh?”
“Don’t worry. You don’t need him to learn that technique, though Geneva says it’s useless without a coefficient in the thousands.”
“I wasn’t too bothered about not learning it. Even if I had accepted instruction from Sir Polluck, I doubt he’d teach it to me. He already has a student that’s considered his inheritor. It’d be in bad taste to pass the technique on to someone else, even if I’m the daughter of the duke.”
Hm. If the master is ordered to fight us, what’s the chances his prized pupil doesn’t get involved? Not high. “You know this inheritor?”
She makes a funny expression. “I’ve met him. It…well…”
“Problem?”
“It’s the opposite. He used to oversee the training of the talents selected by my father sometimes. Unlike most, he never looked down on me and was encouraging. Brought us treats sometimes, gave extra instruction to anyone who was lagging behind, never had a bad word to say to anyone.”
“Did he also rescue cats from trees and help grandmas in the market?”
“You jest but you’re not wrong. He has a stellar reputation. Maybe even better than my father’s and the knights of Victory worship my father.”
I look at her in disbelief. “If he’s so great, why do you look so uncomfortable talking about him?” He sounds right up her alley. “Is he hiding some dark secret?” It wouldn’t be the first time someone put on a mask to gain the favor of others.
“No, and that’s the problem. He is genuinely a great person. And I’m…” She shakes her head. “No matter what you think of me, I’m no saint. Could never pretend to be. Back then, I was…really bitter. About everything. Being around someone with such a good heart was both relaxing and…very uncomfortable.”
I frown, trying to understand what she’s saying. She notices my confusion and sighs. “It’s like a farmer’s son going out for a night in the city with a group of noble sons. They could all be the best of friends—"
“Fat chance.”
“It’s a metaphor, Lou.” A metaphor that would never happen but I wave for her to continue. “As I was saying, they could all be the best of friends but the commoner would be uncomfortable. He’s going to be very aware of his status as they throw out gold crowns like they’re trash. Even if they try to include him, even if they say they don’t care, everything they do and say will make the division of their class that much more obvious.”
I think I get it. “So, this guy is so good, he makes you feel bad for not being as good?” Alana is a virtuous person. She hates the strong that bully the weak and will step forward to personally thwart injustice that crosses her path. But it isn’t necessarily done out of the goodness of her heart. She’s kind, though she pretends she isn’t, but her actions stem more from disgust at those types of action than empathy for the victims, I think.
She looks away. “You need to learn subtly…but yes. It’s suffocating.”
Mm. If she liked that kind of personality, she would have turned her nose up at me long ago. Our wants are different but at the core is the same selfishness. “Is he going to be a problem?”
“Not by himself but if his master asks him to fight…”
“So? Is he the same as Pucky?”
“Pucky—you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? He’s less skilled than his master in magic but is the better swordsman. They call him a genius when it comes to blades.”
“I think they’re ready to start,” Will announces loudly, drawing my attention back to the three men ready to address the acolytes heading for what could easily be their deaths.
