After failing to land a blow after going on the offensive, Donatien was forced to create a swift barrier of ice between him and his opponent, forming space in order to leap back and reset.
It wasn't ant to hold him for very long as a swift strike of Belus allowed him to cut through the wall of ice, eting eye-to-eye with Donatien again, who allowed his swords to dissipate into a cold mist.
"I admit, Ren…" Donatien caught his breath, "...as a swordsman, you've surpassed , without a shadow of a doubt."
He remained silent in response, keeping his gaze on the navy-haired, slender teacher of his as he watched frost coalesce at his fingertips.
"But," Donatien continued, "I've never prided myself on swordplay."
Across his pale skin, that which was visible past his lengthy, professional attire, a light coating of frost clung to him as a chilly wind propelled from his position.
It wasn't a spell itself, but an unrestrained release of magical energy.
He raised his arm as the frosted winds pelted against him, spiraling in the colosseum like a howling, biting storm as he could feel the moisture in his mouth begin to freeze just by persisting in the vicinity of Donatien.
"Good thing I brought a coat…" He muttered with a wry chuckle.
In an environnt forged of one's own mana, swirling and inhabiting such overwhelming frost, it would be an uphill battle for the one not naturally inclined. In most cases, it wasn't a move taken to further one's chance of victory, but more so a challenge–one issued to compare the richness of one's mana with another.
However, he knew of a way to counter such maneuvers.
Sheathing his blade, he clenched both of his fists, slowly releasing them again as he let out a calm, collected breath.
–All at once, he released his own, unrestrained magical energy.
Like a flash of the eclipse, all light was montarily swallowed in the blink of an eye before a darkness was then seen emitting from his position.
Those on the balcony looked down in surprise as the wind pressure of the clashing magical energies stord around them.
Sora whistled, "Talk about potent. That magical energy sure is sothing."
"He can probably rival your output now, Sora," Tristan stated, keeping his deadpan state as he leaned against the stygian wall.
"Ha-ha! I wouldn't say that, but…it's real close," Sora laughed out.
As the unchained darkness manifested, spiraling around him, it repelled the cold frost of Donatien's mana release.
"I see," Donatien said, "I shouldn't be surprised, after how you've held up thus far."
"If you knew what I went through to get here, you really wouldn't be shocked," he muttered, stopping his mana release just as Donatien did.
I'll show you…my new magecraft, he thought.
–The arena fell silent.
It wasn't either of them that stopped it, but the one who stood between them now–appearing before anyone had realized.
"Huh?" He let out.
"What's the aning of this?" Donatien asked.
It was Beatrice that stood between each of them, holding each hand out facing the both of them as so sort of wordless magecraft managed to quell their mana clash.
"That's enough," Beatrice told them with a stern tone, "any further and you'd risk the stability of the intricate barriers established within the foundation. That will not do."
He wasn't bothered, simply shrugging his shoulders as he ran his fingers through his pale-white locks, waving to Iris up in the balcony with a smile.
Beatrice looked at Donatien, who retrieved his glasses from his pocket, placing them back on with a subtle furrownt to his expression.
"You've acquired what you ca here to find, haven't you? He's satisfied your doubts, has he not?" Beatrice asked.
Donatien slid his hands into his pockets, making his leave from the arena as he answered without facing the sage, "I suppose that's right."
After the glasses-wearing Outlander took his leave, the primordial sage faced him as he looked back at her.
"I have to say, I'm impressed," she complinted him with a smile.
"Yeah, well, you probably already knew this before I stepped foot in this arena, didn't you?" He asked.
Beatrice gave him a subtle shrug, "I know what I know, nothing more."
Left with her enigmatic, almost playful answer, he took his leave as well, eting with the others outside of the private colosseum as they returned to their guild quarters.
After an intense, albeit brief skirmish, it was ti for lunch–one that they all seed ready to partake in simultaneously.
"Hello, I'm Moro, the chef of this kitchen! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ren Nakamura!" The frizzly-haired, apron-wearing man extended his hand.
He was taken aback for a mont before accepting the handshake, "...Yeah, nice to et you."
The sa greeting ca to the azure-haired woman seated beside him, "Hello, I'm Moro, the chef of this kitchen! It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Iris Nakamura!"
Hearing her recently acquired surna be properly used, a bit of fluster inhabited her cheeks as she shyly accepted the greeting.
After an odd eting, the two gave their orders to the vibrant, ever-smiling chef; he opted for a hearty serving of steak and potatoes, while she went for a more balanced dish of colorful vegetables and sauce-laden chicken.
"Oh right, you've been here a month, but you've never co to the cafeteria yourself, have you?" Sora asked him, sitting across as he was already busy devouring at on a bone.
"Yeah, I guess that's right," he answered, surprised that it was really the case, "wait, how did he know who I was? And Iris' new last na?!"
"Don't mind Moro," Sirius assured him, "he's a golem that serves Beatrice, specifically. He probably knows whatever she tells him, that's all."
"A golem? That guy looks human to ," he raised an eyebrow.
Iris added in from beside him, having sipped from a glass of water, "Golems don't really fit into one descriptor, Ren. So are made of steel, sotis mud, or…sotis, sothing human. They're beings given life by mages, that's really the only definition. I thought I taught you this before."
She playfully tapped his nose with the cold silver of his spoon as he chuckled in response, though their "lovey-dovey" attitude didn't seem to sh well with one of the other occupants of the table, who abrasively cleared their throat.
"Can you two save it for the bedroom?" Natalia asked.
Sirius scooted closer to Natalia, moving seamlessly with a smirk, "Why do you have to be such a buzz-kill, Natalia? You should be ecstatic that true love still flows through the winds of Gaia."
Letting out a huff, the silver-haired, voluptuous woman put space between herself and the eccentric man, "I don't care for such things. Just leave out of it."
Well, I see she hasn't in the least. Natalia barely spoke to at all before I left for Purgatory. She's always been unsociable, and downright abrasive, at tis, he thought.
Out of seemingly nowhere, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, carrying a familiar, tan complexion as he looked to the side at the smiling expression of one Fai ng.
"Look at you, man," Fai smiled, ssing with his white locks, "you've really grown into one hell of a mage, haven't you? It's pretty rare to see Donatien pressed like that, and unable to even really enact his mid-battle sches!"
"Hah, is that so?" He replied bashfully, scratching his cheek.
After their arrival, it seed Fai had begun taking care of himself–getting rid of that stubble that did him no favors as he returned to his youthful, ever-eccentric self.
"Well, anyway, if you ever need to train those fists of yours, I'm ga," Fai smiled , "you could probably teach Kazu a thing or two, to be honest."
"Yeah, thanks, I'll keep that in mind," he nodded.
Fai's smile dulled just a bit as he left a pat on his chest, "Just glad you both are back."
Before he left the table, Fai spoke to Iris, giving her a similar spiel before making his leave back to his table.
Amidst the noisy state of the Outlander cafeteria, Iris and himself finally got their dishes, served by the humanoid golem, that now gave him weird, uncanny valley vibes.
He watched closely as Moro walked away, making sure he was fully returned to the kitchen before turning his attention back to his table that was inhabited by his wife, Sirius, Sora, and the anti-social Natalia.
"...Do you think Moro has a…?" He asked in a whisper.
The question made the two n sitting across the table break out into laughter, but the sa couldn't be said for his youthful wife who gave him a pinch on the cheek.
"Ow, ow, ow…" He winced.
Sirius leaned back in his seated position; he neglected to order anything to eat, seeming to only be there to lounge with his companions, "Hey, Ren."
"Yeah?" He responded, caressing his cheek as he glanced at Iris, who gave him a playful stick-out of her tongue.
"I think I'll join your guild," Sirius stated casually with his hands behind his head, "if you don't mind, that is."
"Huh?"
–His exuded reaction to this proclamation was the verbal release of the others' thoughts at the table.
Sirius' casual approach didn't shift as he simply leaned his elbows on the table with a playful smile, "I want to join your guild, is that so odd?"
"Urr, yeah? Yeah, it is! Aren't you like one of the highest ranks there is for an adventurer?!" He asked.
"Stygian, first class," Sirius answered.
"Exactly! You outrank by two whole ranks!" He continued.
Even Sora added in, not seeming to know of Sirius' intentions before this sudden proclamation, "I don't really get it either. You're not trying to coddle him still, are you?"
The jet-black-haired man shook his head, "Of course not. We all saw his display against Donatien. He's a bonafide Outlander, one of the most capable, at that."
Iris gulped, "Then…what is it?"
After a mont of silence and pondering, Sirius leaned back against, casually placing his hands behind his head as he peered up at the ceiling.
"A change of pace would be nice," Sirius answered, "and, talking to you again, Ren, Iris, you've both grown as people. You're more lax, funny, and willing to take risks–like making this guild. Making moves in this world.. I want to support that, and be right there by your side."
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