“Wait…I can’t accept that–” Emilio shook his head.
“Please,” Jeane told him with a genuine smile, handing it over, “I’m just a first year student, but in Indasia Academy, my alchemy is looked at as just an inferior tool by the other mage students. But you…you showed a genuine interest and appreciation for my trinkets. You’ve spent a lot of ti developing your magecraft, right?”
Emilio slowly nodded, “…Yeah.”
“Then I believe I’m right in giving this to you,” Jeane said.
Given no other choice, he accepted the tinkerer’s journal, feeling the weight of generations of knowledge in his hands now.
“Anyway, want to see what I’ve been working on?” Jeane asked.
“Do I,” Emilio happily obliged.
It was like delving into another world, sitting beside Jeane, who held an earnest smile like that of a curious child when talking about the trinkets he developed and those made by other masters.
“Most trinkets we sell are just novelty items–like love potions and truth collars. Normal people tend to really like this, but the main demand for magical tools are large orders from large adventurer expeditions or countries’ armies,” Jeane explained.
“…I didn’t think about that. I guess having readily available magic for normal soldiers would be a huge advantage,” Emilio replied.
“Mhm, though I don’t like it,” Jeane said, adjusting his glasses as he fiddled with a chanical ball, “…Magic isn’t sothing that should be abused like that.”
There was no doubt that the art of magecraft was sothing that Jeane held dearly to his heart, if it wasn’t apparent by the countless ti he seed to sink in developing trinkets.
Before he realized it, Emilio had been sitting there for hours, only pulled away from it as the loyal servant of Mr. rryfoot suddenly arrived.
“It’s ti for your next match, Sir Dragonheart,” Ains said, standing in the doorway.
“–Wha? I don’t rember agreeing to a third match,” Emilio raised an eyebrow.
“The contract you signed had a minimum of three matches agreed,” Ains told him.
Emilio sighed out, “…Crap, that’s what I get for not reading the fine print.”
As he got up, Jeane was still tinkering with his gauntlet, fixing the runes inside of it before looking up at Emilio.
“Be careful,” Jeane told him, “I don’t say that lightly–I know how strong you are, but…the third match of an undefeated newbie’s career like yourself is sothing terrible.”
“Huh? What’re you talking about?” Emilio asked.
“They call it the ‘Rising Star’s Hazing’–just watch out,” Jeane warned him, “Either way though, good luck, I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” Emilio said with a smile.
The two exchanged a handshake before parting ways.
—
There was little ti left of daylight, bringing him to his third match of the day within the tower, which he didn’t rember explicitly agreeing to, but Mr. rryfoot won him over with the allure of three-hundred crowns if he won the next bout.
“Good luck out there, Young Emilio,” Alfobromli grinned, seeing him out as he left towards the arena.
I have a bad feeling about this, he thought.
However, what he didn’t know was what he was walking into; sothing Jeane warned him about–the “Rising Star’s Hazing”–a tradition of the tower in which a rising newbie, undefeated and confident like himself, would be placed against one of the “Top Rankers”.
What did I walk into…? It’s even more packed than before, he thought.
As he looked around, the stadium was completely filled; even the space between the seats were overflowing with people who cheered, though mainly not for him.
“Feiyu,”–that na was repeatedly scread by the anticipating crowd.
It was a na that didn’t sound native to Vasmoria nor Milligarde, though he was able to confirm it was not as his opponent entered the arena.
“The undefeated reigning champion of the Tower of Iron Magi! It’s Feiyu–’The Impervious Stone’–hailing from the distant, mystical kingdom of Danxia, he’s returned to greet our rising star!”
Entering the sandy battleground was a fair-faced man with well-kempt, dark-brown hair with silver streaks, wearing attire that half resembled a suit and a leather-armored outfit, adjusting his black gloves over his hands.
Danxia?…I recall only reading briefly about it. If I rember…the Danxian people use a unique style of magecraft for battle. They’re said to be masters of reinforcent, Emilio recalled.
There was an air around Feiyu; a stern serenity, not sothing he wanted to provoke, though there was no choice as the announcer signaled the battle to start–
“BEGIN!”
This ti, Emilio instantly took the initiative, raising his staff as he conjured spiraling projectiles of water, shooting them out with increased velocity that pierced through the air. Though they were born of aqua, the projectiles were reinforced, making them as hard as rock with the piercing power of drills.
It only took a fraction of a second for the half-dozen drills of water to reach Feiyu, who had yet to take a single step. The man with golden irises finished adjusting his gloves before suddenly–he vanished.
“What–?” Emilio let out.
Each of the castings of water slamd against the barrier around the barrier, completely missing their mark as the foreign fighter was now directly in front of him.
He’s fast! Way too fast! Emilio thought.
Still, he was able to react in ti, ducking down from the picture-perfect high kick that Feiyu deployed, which cut through the air like a fine blade.
Even dodging it, he felt the wind pressure change from the sharp kick as his hair was brushed slightly. He imdiately countered, summoning moisture into the air as a massive sphere of water coalesced on Feiyu’s position.
Feiyu glanced to the side, noticing the spell being ford before flipping backward to dodge it despite it forming within milliseconds.
“Tch,” Emilio clicked his tongue.
Using the water he summoned for “Water Prison”, he converted it into tiny, see-through sharks of water, sending them towards the Tower Champion’s position. It was a recently-developed, lesser version of “Dragon Hurricane”, in which Emilio dubbed it: “Shark Tornado.”
In response, Feiyu didn’t counter with a spell of his own, but instead casually but elegantly struck each of the incoming water predators with his fists, dispersing them with the powerful impacts.
You’re kidding –just how hard are that guy’s fists? Emilio questioned.
Though destroying a condensed form of water would normally not be an unorthodox feat, the caster was left stunned, for one good reason: each of the water sharks were reinforced to be as tough as steel.
Again, the golden-eyed, Danxian warrior vanished from before his eyes, moving at untraceable speeds before–
WHAM.
An unseen blow struck his cheek, though he didn’t see it co before another ca.
“Gyuh–!” He spit the air from his lungs.
Straight into his gut, a blow landed before he could so much as tighten his core in preparation, resulting in the oxygen being pounded from his lungs. He was lifted a good several ters into the air from the blow, launching up before tumbling down.
As his lungs didn’t respond to him in the mont of shock for his body, receiving a blow powerful enough to make his stomach feel as though it was burning despite his draconic durability, he laid on the sand for a mont, heaving.
Who is this guy?…He’s this strong with just his fists, Emilio thought.
Though he planned on taking things sowhat casually within the Tower of Iron Magi, a sense of desperation ca over him in the face of such an overwhelming foe as he picked himself up.
“Hah!”
Placing his hand close to his mouth, he conjured wind in order to reset his throbbing lungs, providing himself with air before he wiped the mixture of blood and saliva from his lips.
Raising his staff, heat gathered in front of it with the temperature rapidly rising in front of him, prompting Feiyu, who was reactive in the fight, to raise his guard.
“Inferno Salvo.”
In an instant, the air blared out, causing the sand to part and the audience to cover their ears as a volatile fla, rising to ludicrous degrees of heat, spewed across the battleground, chasing after Feiyu.
“–” Feiyu remained stoic, speeding around the periter of the battlefield.
As the destructive casting of fire touched the barrier, it resulted in multiple explosions, attempting to completely envelop the battlefield. It was a ‘scorched earth’ plan ford by Emilio; if his opponent was faster than him, he needed to cover enough ground to make that a non-factor.
I’m not done, Emilio thought.
Raising his staff to the air amidst the continuous streaks of flas and explosions that filled the arena, causing the announcer to go silent as he feared for his own safety along with the audience, Emilio conjured wind to combine with the territory of fire he had created.
It was the unison of two elents, creating a hellish environnt in which life could not flourish:
“Gehenna’s Breeze.”
Rapid winds encircled the periter of the arena, sweeping the sands up and condensing a storm to the battleground, guiding the flas along with it as crimson heat filled it.
Feiyu began sweating, wiping droplets from his cheek as he set his eyes on the caster.
Small tornadoes of fire were born amidst the spell that reshaped the weather; though it wasn’t completely advantageous for Emilio, either.
He was forced to use his scale armor, giving himself so level of heat resistance, though his breathing beca heavier and sweat dripped down his chin.
I’ve got you now, Emilio thought.
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