Orodan didn’t have good experiences with noble houses.
From a young age he’d been told to avoid nobles and their soldiers and had often been at the receiving end of beatings and subjugation at their hands.
And then the ti loops started and his hatred for House Argon grew, and this began to at least partially color his view of noble houses in general.
But he felt this would be unfair to House Simarji, the owners of the lumber yard he currently found himself laboring in.
They were a smaller house that had co to prominence with the liberation war that ford the Republic. Their house originated from the eastern kingdoms and emigrated to the lands of the now-Republic. When the ti for war ca, they bravely contributed and earned themselves a designation as a noble house.
Of course their main inco was farming and forestry. Their house alone was responsible for a sizeable portion of the Capital’s food yield and lumber supply.
As employers, they seed to be very fair and respected.
They still had Adept-level guards keeping watch over the lumber yard as any sensible business owner of ans would, but their workers spoke well of Count Rohanus Simarji, the eldest son of the house and an Elite-level healer who was known for having savvy business sense and always treating his workers well.
The man’s magic was at least partially responsible for the abundant growth of the farms and forest preserves House Simarji owned.
For Orodan’s purposes, this ant that he was never bothered much during the course of his work. If anything, aside from the grim-faced supervising dwarf - Ogrik Dothrilrock was his na - the other workers were all rather happy and carefree as they seed to genuinely enjoy their jobs.
There wasn’t even the fear and wariness of Adept-level people present in these workers like there was at the old warehouse at 4 Ale Road. If anything, the workers treated him with a subtle sense of respect but nothing too reverential, which was a great improvent over being treated like a walking weapon one needed to tread lightly around.
Most importantly, this ant that unlike the old worksite, the supervisor here didn’t worry about facing repercussions for a talent like Orodan working here or poaching him outright.
House Simarji was a noble house in their own right, and they had a rumored Master-level individual in their house who preferred to stay out of the public eye.
Orodan still had the Adept-level guards approach him over the course of the loop; his Physical Fitness must have drawn so attention with how easily he threw trees around and carved through wood as though it was air. They approached him in quite the friendly manner and asked him who he was and what his interests and goals were.
Orodan saw no harm in answering honestly and he was certain soone in the overlooking tower was taking notes.
The training and practice for his Woodworking skill was fantastic at the lumber yard. He had all the material in the world to work with, and the carpenters in the woodworking area were all more than eager to help teach and give tips and advice to soone who worked hard and produced a veritable flood of material in record ti. He also gained the Lumberjacking skill.
And in this loop he hadn’t even used Wood Communion alongside Weapon Aura to produce so truly high quality wood.
Near the end of the loop, an hour before the announcent preceding the chaos at Eversong Plaza, Orodan spotted a figure calmly walking towards him.
The man looked positively ancient. With a wrinkled face of bronze skin, flowing white hair and a long beard. He stood as tall as a young man, but still used a long pole wrapped in cloth as a walking stick.
Orodan paused his work for a mont. He had exceeded the entire lumber yard’s quota for the next week altogether.
It wasn’t exactly unprecedented for the occasional wandering genius with ridiculous Physical Fitness to co by a work site and dabble in such things, but for one to stay as long as Orodan did and then have the relevant skills, was a bit much.
“Can I help you?” Orodan asked.
“Help ? No… but you can help yourself young man,” the old man spoke with a certain level of gravity in his voice. “I strongly recomnd you leave the County altogether and make your way East. Sothing calamitous will occur soon.”
Now that truly made Orodan pause and take the man in seriously.
Just who was this old man? For him to know about the destruction that would ensue soon. Orodan decided to bite the shot and test the waters. His third Blessing gave him a way out should things devolve.
“Then why is nobody trying to do sothing about it? That machine beneath Mount Castarian will awaken soon and the entire county will be turned into a red wasteland of chaotic mana!”
Now it was this old man’s turn to look at Orodan sharply.
“And just how does a sapling like you know of these things? I initially sought to warn you given the rare talent you’ve shown for your age… but you also know about the gas being played under the mountain?” the old man asked.
“Of course I do, I keep reliving this sa day over and over! I’ve slowly begun to co to terms with it, but I still have no answers about the politics and why the hell the Republic and people like yourself know about it but are so content to send only a token force to Eversong Plaza at noon,” Orodan exclaid. “Just what sort of ga is being played here?!”
And the old man’s eyes actually opened a slight bit wider and he held Orodan’s gaze for a few seconds before speaking.
And then he laughed.
And once he was done with his throaty chuckle, he spoke.
“Heh… just… amazing… ti magic of such a scale cast on one so young and ignorant,” the old man almost crazily spoke in a mutter. “Tell child, how many tis have you died over the course of the spell you find yourself in?”
“Thousands? At least more than ten-thousand tis by now… I lost count during so sets.”
“That many? No mortal on this world would have enough mana to keep such a spell going for that many tis… and I haven’t heard any of the fad Master-level chronomancers raising a ruckus about ti being convoluted or rewound…” the man muttered as much to himself as he did to Orodan. “Which Gods are you in contact with? It could only be sothing done by them… but even then… the Cathedral has said nothing is out of the ordinary…”
“I’m not in contact with any Gods… this ti loop… even the Gods are unaware of it. When I told Ilyatana the last ti she tried to ‘give’ sothing that would make serve her better in finding an answer for her… thankfully the God of Death saved by granting a Blessing that allowed to take my own life easily.”
“Soul manipulation… filthy magic… you were fortunate to have avoided that. Still… this tale of yours sounds absolutely insane and almost fantastical in how nearly-impossible it is,” the old man said with a raised eyebrow. But he didn’t outright reject it?
“Nearly impossible? So there still might be an explanation for what’s happening to ?” Orodan asked.
“Perhaps there is… co child, let us have so tea and you can tell the details about this ti loop.”
“So even the Quest is reset once the loop restarts, even if you’ve completed it… have you tried completing it once again then?” the elderly man asked.
“No… after I realized there was no escape in sight I’ve spent the loops since just honing my Woodworking and obtaining skills such as Weapon Aura and Wood Communion. I haven’t really bothered returning to the Plaza, although I certainly could go and drain the orb once more and complete the Quest that way,” Orodan explained.
“Hmm… not the worst idea; sotis a warrior must ditate on things beyond just battle,” the aged man spoke. “Weapon Aura is a decent force multiplier and a must-have for any warrior who hopes to get anywhere. A sha that the curriculum for academies nowadays is so pathetic. Could you not have consulted so of your teachers to tell you more? That it took you thousands of loops before you discovered it is a bit shaful.”
Orodan grew slightly annoyed at this and barked back. “I had no academy!”
“Truly? Who were you before this started then?”
“I was… I am, Orodan Wainwright. I’m a mber of the Volarbury County Militia in Ogdenborough, I’m a re Private. I had no fancy academy, I had no mother or father to guide . I grew up struggling on the streets of Ogdenborough and later spent my years till I ca of age in the Lady Sashwari Ho for the Wayward… but despite all that I still got accepted into the County Militia at the age of 16.”
At this the old man, who had been looking at Orodan like one might look at an interesting child, now finally showed so change. His eyes softened a bit, and Orodan would daresay he saw an inkling of respect in his gaze.
“…that’s good,” the old man quietly replied. “I don’t have a real answer for you about why you’re supposedly in a ti loop that even the Gods are unaware of… but I will say that if anyone was ant to succeed in such a scenario, it would be one such as you. You are without a doubt… a true idiot.”
“…huh?!” Orodan protested, but the old man put a hand up to stop him.
“But you are also a true warrior. I… cannot even say that I would be willing to be torn apart thousands of tis on end with no rest simply to make progress against an undead Demonic Berserker by attempting to fight it toe to toe at the Adept-level. Whichever divine power beyond the Gods is responsible for your plight… they chose well in picking a stubborn stone-headed idiot like you for this ti loop.”
Orodan’s head grew hot with vexation. “Surely you didn’t say all this just to insult old man?!”
“Putting the young in their place and reminding them of their shortcomings is one of the few ways I amuse myself at my age,” the old man quipped back, much to Orodan’s irritation. “Anyhow, has anyone explained Gods to you in an academic sense?”
“The only explanations about the Gods I received was from the Temple and the matrons growing up. The Gods are supre and all-powerful, that’s all I was told,” Orodan explained.
“That is… not necessarily correct. The Cathedral will of course happily peddle whatever dogma serves them and their divine overlords… but the truth is a different matter,” he spoke. “Tell boy… do you know what the System is?”
The System? Did the old man an the ssages he received from on up high whenever his skills increased?
“Isn’t that too under the domain of the Gods?” Orodan asked in return.
“No. The System is sothing that has existed, and will continue to exist long after this current crop of Gods have turned to dust,” he explained, and Orodan leaned in and paid rapt attention as his worldview was being turned upside down. “The priests of the Cathedral will fervently label any who say it a madman and a heretic, but it’s common knowledge among the Master-level that even the Gods themselves rose to their station through the System.”
“So there existed Gods before the Pri Five?” Orodan asked incredulously. His upbringing as a bumpkin didn’t allow him to ponder on such forbidden knowledge till now.
“A long ti ago… when I was just a young lad like yourself, there were whispers of a God of War before Agathor. The whispers and hushed knowledge were already ancient even when I was a lad, and now as the hundreds of years since then have passed, those whispers have vanished entirely,” he explained. “I always thought these Gods might have died… sothing the Cathedral will deem impossible, as they swear up and down that Gods cannot be slain. But so of my old friends thought that at least so of these older Gods advanced to an even higher level. For this ti loop you’re in to evade the notice of even the Pri Five… perhaps sothing beyond even them has chosen you for this.”
“So you actually believe then?” Orodan asked with so disbelief in his tone. “Usually it takes a priest communing with their God to understand that sothing is wrong, and even then the priest doesn’t believe , they simply relay what their God says.”
“And that would be entirely normal and understandable for them. As becoming a priest of a divinity requires blind faith in dogma, obedience and levelling skills which makes them more of a pliant puppet to their God’s will at higher levels. I must suggest you don’t train in their skills if you wish to retain your independence of mind,” the elder explained, and Orodan agreed given the scare he received at Ilyatana’s hands.
“So why do you believe then?”
“Because, lad… I know what the initial wording of a Quest ssage says word for word. Not the fanciful fictional accounts, nor the lies of charlatans. After all, I fought alongside a man who received a Quest to slay a desert worm the size of an entire mountain range.”
And Orodan found himself sitting their, jaw agape at the words of this venerable elder, and the ti-looper asked a question people normally asked him whenever he displayed impossible abilities.
“Just… just who are you?”
“You haven’t yet earned the right to that until you’ve impressed , now co, show what thousands of deaths in a ti loop can achieve,” the sagely elder spoke.
And the aura around the man suddenly turned very, very heavy. Neither the High-Burgher nor the Novarrian beneath the mountain had made Orodan feel this sort of… pressure.
Orodan steeled his nerves and drew his weapons.
It wasn’t a fight to the death.
But Orodan still felt like he was in one.
The elderly man refused to use more than one arm, and he refused to utilize the wrapped long pole he kept held behind his back. But even with just that… Orodan felt pressured in a way he never had before. Even Ovuru the Guzuharan ogre-man, who was a Master-level warrior himself, hadn’t pressured Orodan this much.
He activated Death Rage and every possible supporting skill he could think of, and he was utterly overwheld and sent flying through dozens of trees with a single slap each ti.
Weapon Aura and Wood Communion combined together to strengthen his shield so incredibly much that it would shatter if he poured any more mana into it. It could likely take the blow from a Master-level warrior now. And yet it too was smashed to smithereens with no regard.
“Co now… if you're in a ti loop as you claim, has constant death made you complacent? I’m not going to kill you, but I do expect you to adapt to the pressure and co up with sothing,” the dastardly old man spoke with a calm smirk on his face. “We’ll have to break this bad habit of yours of using death as a crutch. Focus, and genuinely treat this as though it’s your last try and struggle with all you have.”
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Easier said than done!
This monstrous old man’s expectations were simply too high!
“Do you know what talent is young one?” his opponent asked as he thrashed him hard enough to bypass all his resistances and break a rib. It would heal in ti, but it was still a frankly colossal hit delivered with such casual ease.
“There are two kinds of talent,” the elder spoke as he delivered another chop with his left hand that sent Orodan into the ground and ford a crater. “The first, is the talent of hard work, this you already possess. The ability to grind and persevere no matter what. But it’s rely one part of the recipe for success.”
“The second kind of talent, is that of a genius. The ability to grasp things almost imdiately and instinctively,” he spoke as another series of thrashings were delivered unto Orodan’s now battered and bleeding body. “People will say this sort of talent is sothing one has to be born with, but that isn’t true. It requires the first talent, hard work, being applied to the extre.”
Another series of horrendous beatings descended upon him.
“So what if you weren’t born with the innate talent to instantly comprehend things? So what if you aren’t a natural genius?” a chop brought his attempt to stand back to his knees and the old man stopped for a mont. “Stand up boy, and receive my attacks. Concentrate till your face goes red and your eyes leak blood, focus till your brain explodes, cram as much thought, experintation and ingenuity into every thousandths of a second till each second itself becos equivalent to an hour of dedicated hard work! Adapt! Think of this as your last try for the next blow I’ll land will kill you!”
Orodan was crazed. Ti loop? He had forgotten about such things in this mont.
Right now, ti almost seed to freeze as the impending blow ca for his face, and in his last monts, he realized that death was a crutch, one that was holding him back.
He forgot who he was, and madly strained as though this was his last. He felt his very soul strain under the pressure of attempting to cram every bit of focus and thought into each thousandths of a second. It almost felt as though two of him were thinking using the sa mind.
[New Skill (Rare) → Soul Manipulation 1]
This wasn’t the auto-piloted death grinding of the loops, but sothing altogether more strenuous and laborious.
He vied for each and every edge he could get against this upcoming attack, ntally he called forth all of the near bottomless mana within himself and poured it towards sothing, towards whatever would help him in the near instants before his death.
His entire being, the very soul that he felt strain as he cramd as much focus into thinking in these instants of ti, his entire mana pool, it was all poured into this one thing. And the last ingredient poured in was all his emotions, all his experiences, all the hard work, the stubborn willpower he had adamantly held onto throughout the thousands of deaths.
His own fist rose, charged with all that was him. This strike contained all that was Orodan Wainwright.
But he still felt and knew that it wasn’t enough. And on the eve of death, he decided to apply whatever it was that allowed him to think as though there two of him using the sa mind, to the physical world.
His right hand tore through the air towards the attack… and in an impossibility… another right hand occupied the exact sa mont in space and ti and also tore through space to et the old man’s attack.
Two actions perford at the exact sa mont in ti, occupying the exact sa space, almost as there was two of him occupying the exact sa position.
It was impossible, but the power of his attack multiplied by two.
And an unfurled halberd was forced to et it as the old man had a mad grin on his face.
[New Skill (Legendary) → All-Strike 2]
The surrounding mile was turned to ash, and in the distance, half of Velestok was… gone. And the rest was turned to rubble.
As was Orodan’s own arm and half of his entire body and face.
The old man’s crazed grin never subsided as he spoke, and he looked unhard by the attack that could have killed a Master-level combatant.
“Hahaha! Now this is talent! Don’t you ever allow death to make you complacent and forget this feeling of true hard work again!” the man exclaid. “Assuming enough deaths will let you achieve sothing is a good way to miss out on the insights you could have if you simply strained with your all in the mont.”
“Orodan Wainwright… my na is Adeltaj Simarji… you might hear the na if you pick up a book on ancient history. And it took you long enough to figure out what the Reward from that Quest did!”
Orodan couldn’t speak in response, his body utterly ruined and his soul feeling a level of strain it hadn’t ever experienced.
But with this result… he could finally accept death and consider the loop a success.
“Now hurry up and use that third Blessing from Malzim you spoke of and find in the next loop, your training is quite lacking and we must erode many bad habits of yours… can’t even use this new skill without blowing up your own arm and body… tsk, tsk!”
As Orodan was poised to activate his third Blessing, he decided that he would not be imdiately rushing to this crazy old man the second the next loop began.
Not till he figured out just what this new power of his was.
A keening wail ringing in the night sky awoke him.
Orodan awoke and customarily brushed away the Quest ssages, and he imdiately rushed out of his hovel, shield in hand.
The new legendary rarity skill wasn’t what he wanted to test.
The skill was nice, incredibly powerful even, but it was just another offensive skill. One that would undoubtedly give him the power to really threaten higher-level warriors now. But it’s power output was tied to how much mana he had stored via the Mana Black Hole skill. And he had expended the entirety of multiple loops worth of mana absorption from the destructive attack of the ancient war machine.
And the mana stored inside Mana Black Hole was essentially dry now and so he’d have to spend a few loops recharging to replicate the sa effect again.
All-Strike was still incredibly powerful he could feel, but its implications weren’t anywhere near the Quest Reward whose function he had just discovered.
The Reward which was the 1 Permanent Action Increase.
A Shield Throw was poised to fly towards the harpies flying overhead in the distance, but Orodan recalled the feeling of what he’d done in the last loop against that crazy old man.
And as before, the familiar feeling of impossibility and an unnatural break in reality itself overtook him.
And two Shield Throws were sent, occupying the exact sa mont in ti and space, and even sohow conjuring an extra shield which Orodan knew was the exact sa as the shield he normally used.
Four harpies didn’t even have the ti to cry out in outrage as they were cut in two by the shields flying through them. And after a second, one of the shields flying into the horizon… abruptly disappeared.
“Incredible…” Orodan muttered to himself.
It was as though he had thrown two separate Shield Throws in the exact sa mont in ti and space. Yet he only used the energy of one!
This was… mind boggling and he would need to test out the implications of such a thing.
But if this was what he thought it was, even if the other ‘action’ stopped after a single second. It was more than enough ti to do absurd things, like double his attack rate as each blow could be simultaneously thrown alongside another in the exact sa mont in ti.
It was as though reality bent to allow him to do one thing and another thing at the sa instant of ti!
“I have to test this!”
He exclaid excitedly, but then rembered he had essentially lost his shield for the rest of the loop.
“What the hell… since when do you know magic Orodan?”
These were the words of Old Man Hannegan, who looked on with a disturbed expression on his face, as it appeared as though two of Orodan had appeared, occupying the sa spot in space and ti, and were simultaneously working on stripping down the log into useful construction wood.
He had tested the limits of the 1 Action Increase, and it seed that while the effects lasted only one second… there was nothing stopping him from performing other actions consecutively. And the energy and stamina expended were the sa as though he had done only a single action.
There were certain oddities such as if doing one action which was trivial and doing another such as All-Strike, the more energy intensive action’s cost would be paid. But this was still an incredible boon.
Even by simply working as normal, Orodan could now think with two minds, and looked as though he had a weird clone flitting in and out of his body and doing things independently of him only to disappear within one second of staring the action.
His ntal thought process and speed being boosted by two essentially allowed him to think and learn two tis faster than before.
To others it appeared as though it was a slightly disturbing form of esoteric magic. But to Orodan who knew exactly what it was really doing, the implication that he was breaking reality and affecting causality by performing two things at the exact sa ti wasn’t lost on him.
He traveled down the length of an entire chopped tree in seconds, simultaneously stripping it of bark and chopping it into pieces suitable for construction. What was a process that took ten seconds before, took five now as there was essentially two of him working at the sa ti, two minds focusing on the sa task, working in perfect synergy, capable of each performing an action of their own.
“This is… I feel like a God…” Orodan muttered to himself, but then recalled that scary old man Adeltaj Simarji. He certainly hadn’t felt like any kind of divinity when fighting that scary old monster of a man. “But I still have a ways to go.”
His All-Strike, amplified by two due to his Action Increase, had destroyed the entire town of Velestok.
Just how powerful was he now?
He hadn’t had the ti to go to the next town and peruse the library, so Orodan asked Vilia Coventor the fledgling architect about who Adeltaj Simarji was.
While her academic knowledge on history wasn’t extensive, she had gone to a crafting academy and it let her share that nearly seven-hundred years ago in the Eastern Kingdoms a terrifying desert worm the size of an entire mountain range was devastating the inland Aswarthian Peninsula. A hero was given a Quest by the world to slay the calamitous beast, and one of the hero’s companions was a halberd-wielding warrior known as Adeltaj Simarji.
While such history would normally be obscure and foreign in the Republic, House Simarji proudly spoke of their heritage and proudly venerated Adeltaj Simarji, whom they regarded as one of the founding ancestors of their house and a proud link back to their roots in the Eastern Kingdoms.
And given the House’s close ties to the Republic, the history lesson was rather widely taught in the martial, magic and crafting academies throughout the Republic of Aden.
The old man was apparently quite famous. Although when asked if he was still alive, Vilia could only look at him strangely and almost sarcastically remind Orodan that it had been seven-hundred years since.
Which, for soone like Vilia to be skeptical was understandable. She was a crafter, and she was part of the common masses of society in seeing Master-level individuals and beyond as re rumors and myths.
The Republic’s official education in the academies and the news never confird nor denied the existence of Masters, people whose skill level exceeded the threshold of 90.
But Orodan knew they existed. He had fought and killed a Master after all.
And if Adepts had their lifespans extended by fifty years and Elites were known to live up to three hundred… then for a Master to be very long-lived, perhaps even to the order of seven-hundred years like Adeltaj Simarji apparently was… wasn’t out of the question.
But he wondered if the knowledge that he was alive and acting as so kind of hermit was widespread even within his own House.
He thanked Vilia for her knowledge, and after finishing up the warehouse - without empowering the wood this ti as his Mana Black Hole lacked the reserves in it - he made way for Velestok.
“Adeltaj Simarji! Co out! I wish to feel your halberd for myself!”
Ten minutes after he had marched to the lumber yard in Velestok and boldly shouted such a brash summons and given the Adept-level guards who tried kicking him out a beating, it wasn’t Adeltaj Simarji who ca to greet him, but a pair of two people. One a man wearing robes, the other a woman in heavy armor with a mace on her hip.
“Young man, has nobody taught you that it’s rude to go around beating people up and demanding to see soone?” the calm voice of the robed man spoke. “I don’t know what academy you’re from or whose little Adept prodigy you are, but who are you to walk into House Simarji’s lumber yard and thrash our loyal guards? Are you asking for the kind of beating you gave them?”
Orodan didn’t reply but simply clenched his fists, and in response the woman drew her mace and the man’s hands erupted with sharp gale winds and the entire lumber yard went silent as the battle was on and the workers had long since evacuated.
One minute later, both Elite-level individuals were given a decent walloping and lay before him, battered and bruised.
“I just ca by to see the venerable elder Adeltaj Simarji, I have no quarrel with you!” Orodan exclaid.
“No quarrel he says… as he walks in and gives us a beating…” the woman muttered from the ground, and Orodan felt guilty. Perhaps his headstrong way of approaching things wasn’t exactly ideal.
“Young master… soon Count Rohanus will undoubtedly arrive to speak with you. I implore you wait for his arrival as I’ve sent word to him,” the man spoke as his communication amulet glowed.
And so Orodan allowed the Elites to leave peacefully and waited a whole fifteen minutes before the arrival of Count Rohanus Simarji, riding a silver-feathered griffin. He was flanked by two other silvered griffin riders.
The man furiously touched down on the ground alongside his accompanying allies and angrily marched towards Orodan.
“You! State your business and why you’ve assaulted my loyal n! I don’t recall House Simarji ever daring to offend anyone, and we would swiftly punish any within our own ranks who dared do so without just cause!” the bronze skinned man in flowing silver robes angrily exclaid.
Robes implied he was a mage, and the rumors did say Count Rohanus Simarji was an Elite-level healer. So for him to so boldly march towards soone who was carrying a sword and shield ant that either the man was stupid… or he was confident in lee combat if it ca to it. And people who made it to the Master-level weren't stupid.
From what Orodan heard of Elite-level healers, they either focused purely on healing… or healing was but one aspect of their skillset.
“I ca here seeking Adeltaj Simarji, I wish to test myself against his halberd and learn from him!” Orodan proclaid loudly, causing a grimace to appear on Count Rohanus’s face.
“Look… I don’t know who’s backing you, but you’re undoubtedly an incredible talent for your age to be capable of beating two seasoned Elites. And my sworn man Exelos tells he feels Agathor’s Blessing upon you,” the Count began. “But I cannot simply call out the honored ancestor of my House whenever I feel like it. Furthermore, you’ve barged in and given a beating to many loyal sworn soldiers of House Simarji… do you think you can just walk away without providing any compensation? Who’s your backer? Which House are you with? I don’t recognize you…”
What was left unsaid was that anyone who was capable of beating up Elites at Orodan’s age could only be a famous prodigy. Count Rohanus knew of all the people in the Republic and nearby under the age of 20 who had the battle power of an Elite. That he didn’t recognize Orodan was making him even more suspicious.
“I have no backer. I’m a Private in the Volarbury County Militia.”
“And Burgher Ignatius simply lets a talent like you walk around saying you’re a Private? What kind of ga is this?” the man asked with mounting anger evident in his voice.
“It’s the truth, if you don’t believe , what else can I say?” Orodan asked, his own battle-lust coming out.
Both parties were by this point spoiling for a fight.
Count Rohanus’s affairs had been interrupted when he was called to deal with this, and the indignation of having his loyal n thrashed was grating his nerves.
“You don’t need to say anything further,” the Count replied calmly all of a sudden, and Orodan’s fists clenched in preparation for a fight. “Since you were generous enough to allow my n off with a simple beating, I shall return the sa to you. You’ll learn a harsh lesson today about the difference between an Elite and a Master.”
The rumors claid Count Rohanus Simarji was a re Elite-level healer.
But the man’s own words and the magically enhanced earth armor forming around his fists spoke a different story. As did the first crisp straight right jab that ca for Orodan’s face.
All of Orodan’s skills were activated and he imdiately reciprocated the violence. And soon an absolutely titanic clash of fists and kicks took place that began to crater the ground the two were fighting upon.
The Count’s two Elite-level guards hung back, likely at the request of the man himself. And because they wouldn’t be of much help against soone who could clash against a Master.
To his credit, while the Count’s eyes widened at the fact that Orodan could keep up in an exchange of blows evenly, the man quickly schooled his expression into one of utmost focus as the earth armor now covered his entire body.
The frenzied exchange carried on for fifteen more seconds, and so things beca apparent.
The Count’s earth armor quickly deteriorated and lost all integrity and magical augntation whenever it contacted Orodan. And the Count’s Physical Fitness was at the Adept-level and his Unard Combat Mastery wasn’t yet at the Master-level.
But the man’s healing was.
And this ant that the Count could take a beating.
For once Orodan had to wonder if he’d t soone as dogged about outlasting opponents in a fight as he was. Even if Orodan’s abilities and amplifiers gave him an advantage in a lee exchange, the Count was keeping up.
The Count couldn’t hurt him thanks to all of Orodan’s defensive skills, but despite the crazy amount of punches he’d landed, a glowing golden light simply enveloped the man and made the damage of the blows vanish. And Orodan didn’t want to use All-Strike and potentially kill the man, even if it would be weaker without the bottomless mana pool he had prior.
This was a Master-level healer.
But even still, Orodan was fighting soone who was primarily a mage. The outco was lopsided in his favor.
A full minute of beatings ensued, and finally, the damage Orodan did began to outpace the Count’s ability to heal it in ti, and with an ugly look on his face the Count finally leapt backwards.
“Are you really as young as you look?” the Count asked.
“I’m seventeen years of age, yes,” Orodan replied, although this was correct physically, but it would be a lie ntally and chronologically.
“…are you perhaps a reincarnator? The only other one I know of is serving as the Emperor’s advisor in Novarria, the oracles would have sensed it if another had erged…”
“I am not a reincarnator, the only life I know is the one as Orodan Wainwright,” Orodan swiftly shut down.
The man’s eyes took on a contemplating gaze at his reply but finally ca to a decision as he now ordered his two Elite-level guards forward. And they were both lee fighters.
It should have been a foregone conclusion. Orodan could now pulverize Elites like they were nothing.
But what should have been a foregone conclusion turned into five minutes of furious battle in which Orodan kept beating the two heavily armored swordsn with his fists and the glowing golden light kept on healing them.
Turns out the Count’s ability to heal others was even stronger than his ability to heal himself. Additionally, Orodan would swear that the golden light was also making them stronger, as no other Elites he had fought were this good at lee.
Finally, it was a sense of experintation with Mana Black Hole and utilizing his Action Increase that ended the fight.
Two Power Strikes were thrown simultaneously with each hand, and in the sa mont in ti, two more Power Strikes were launched as reality was twisted. The quadruple attack simultaneously focused on one of the fighters, and Orodan used the opening to swiftly rush towards the Count and wrapped both hands around the man’s head.
He sensed the man’s mana pool, and pulled.
The Count recoiled and his skin turned pale, and although it was painless, it was as though the exhaustion had suddenly set in, causing the man to fall to his knees. On Orodan’s end he felt the previously dry pool of Mana Black Hole suddenly beco slightly more rejuvenated from draining a Master-level mage's entire mana pool.
The golden light surrounding the Count’s two guards vanished due to the lack of mana supplying it, and they suddenly drew their weapons and protectively stood in front of the man once they reached him.
“I have no quarrel with you… I just seek Adeltaj Simarji,” Orodan replied.
And behind him, Orodan heard a voice that was definitely not there before.
“Now who’s going around causing a ruckus and asking for an old man like ?”
Orodan turned around to see none other than the old man himself.
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