Skill combination was quite difficult.

As a rule, skill combination always lead to two skills of lower rarity producing one of higher rarity. Not every skill could be combined; and just because two skills sounded similar didn’t mean a combination was possible.

Experimentation and coming to an insight which saw the two skills fused together was also key. Simply using them concurrently wasn’t enough. One had to understand both skills thoroughly, grasp what were the essential parts of each, and try to create a new whole that blended together well.

The process was meant to be difficult, with the class offered at Bluefire being meant for fourth year students to begin with. And even then, it was a competitive class that required a separate application process to be considered for.

Of course, Orodan was working on skill combinations with Arvayne as his mentor.

And Orodan’s talent in warrior-related skills was far from average.

He had also been working on this combination for a week now.

He was sitting in the center of the training chamber, unmoving, as Arvayne sliced, stabbed and tore him apart with deft blade work.

In truth, since he wasn’t defending himself, the old man was free to methodically target everywhere he could. Without periodic uses of an enchanted cleaning amulet which drew all the gore within it, the chamber would look ridiculous by now.

Pain Resistance was now high enough that Orodan didn’t register the pain of the old man’s blade unless he wanted. So he simply sat in quiet meditation as his body was hacked apart.

His goal?

To merge Slashing Resistance, Piercing Resistance and Impact Resistance into one.

Combining two skills was difficult enough for most, and while there were records of triple skill combinations… it was still rare. Orodan was self-aware about his own monstrous talent in the martial arts by now.

It would be a disservice if his first attempt wasn’t at least a triple skill combination.

As usual, the old man was chugging an excessive amount of healing potions as he butchered Orodan, the backlash from Warrior’s Reciprocity being strong. However he decided to forgo the glass flasks entirely and now chugged the concoctions directly from a spatial ring. He prepared this ahead of time for the training session.

As the blood flowed from his savaged body, Orodan Regenerated, and he meditated.

Sometimes his head would be destroyed, but his Unyielding Vitality was now strong enough that he could think without his physical brain. At least for a decent amount of time. It was as though his consciousness existed in his vitality, which was spread throughout his whole being.

Orodan’s ruminations continued, uninterrupted by the damage he suffered.

Piercing stabs, slashing cuts, and crushing impacts. These weren’t elemental in nature, but they were… physical.

What he needed then was a skill which synergized all three.

Piercing Resistance involved mentally commanding his skin and flesh to harden.

During his repeated deaths against the undead Demonic Berserker, Orodan realized that mentally structuring his skin and flesh to turn stabbing blows aside was the best method of diverting them.

As it had savaged him, Orodan realized that cutting attacks were best resisted through focusing on making his skin harder and almost slippery, causing the blows to not cut as deep.

As he was battered by the explosions of the mages in Eversong Plaza, he realized that Impacts were best resisted by counteracting the force by going with it. By making himself heavier and his flesh almost absorptive of impact.

But, to combine all that?

He would need to structure the body to resist penetrating attacks, harden it against slashing, while also resisting impacts through rolling with the force and absorbing them.

His skills, were essentially a form of Damage Mitigation… and that skill was the key piece.

A body which could resist all physical damage, while also mitigating whatever got through.

The three resistance skills began showing an unnatural synergy together… and the warrior within who was returning Arvayne’s attacks all this time, whispered insights to him.

Orodan and the warrior worked together, and soon an equilibrium was reached.

The warrior posed a finished product to Orodan, it would be the combination of the three skills that he was targeting. Piercing Resistance, Slashing Resistance and Impact Resistance. It would be an Exquisite rarity skill.

But Orodan refused!

He argued with the inner spirit within, and decided to venture further.

The warrior remained silent, almost irritated that Orodan had spurned it. But it looked on eagerly.

But truthfully, Orodan didn’t need its help, as it was missing the key piece to wrap it all together.

Damage Mitigation.

The warrior was satisfied with what it saw. With what Orodan came up with after the week of constant training.

[Skill Combination - Piercing Resistance 59 + Slashing Resistance 60 + Impact Resistance 66 + Damage Mitigation 78 → Bulwark Physical Resistance 65 (Legendary)]

The difference was immediately apparent.

The old man still took the same amount of damage from delivering his brutal blows upon Orodan. But now the damage received was reduced by almost two thirds!

“What the… did you succeed?” Arvayne asked.

“Yes. In fact I might have exceeded expectations in the attempt,” Orodan replied.

“As if you don’t do enough of that already… stupid prodigies,” the old man muttered. “So given that you combined three skills into one, the rarity should be exquisite.”

“Actually, I combined four skills into one… the rarity is legendary.”

To his credit, the old man simply paused for a half second before speaking.

“Of course you did. Why am I even surprised?” the man remarked. “You kill a spider dragon, you claim the top ranking in the trial of abundance against dragons… and now you combine four skills into one on your first attempt. What next? Shall we put a crown upon your head and declare you the king of the world?”

“That sounds exhausting and better suited to a grumpy old worrywart like you,” Orodan quipped. “Being king would require too much thinking and politics for my taste.”

“Heh… now you know why Grandmasters don’t officially announce their existence or bother taking important political positions,” the old man spoke. “Still… it’s as though you’re some kind of anomaly. The more time I spend training you, the more it becomes clear that you exceed all known bounds of common sense. What do you really intend to do once this is all over Orodan?”

His mentor’s tone was dead serious for the first time.

“I don’t know what that question is supposed to mean. Right now, the insurmountable wall that is the Eldritch Avatar stands before me. I’m not even a match for a single Chosen Avatar just yet, and I’m given a Quest to defeat one that is an Avatar for three separate Eldritch Gods?” Orodan asked. “I don’t even have the time to think so far in the future. I do not know what I’ll do.”

“What I’m trying to say is… perhaps you should take things a bit slower. Your potential is incredible and your growth could very well be limitless,” the old man carefully spoke, and his face grew a little worried. “Perhaps even attaining Godhood isn’t out of the question for you, so when it comes to receiving a Blessing near the end of this loop you sh-”

The old man’s eyes took on a subtle glow as his words were interrupted.

It was the Inuanan God of War who spoke next.

“What my loyal and diligent Chosen One means to say, Orodan Wainwright… is that you should continue on your current course. You are a true warrior, and the glory you may claim in the future is limitless.”

That was quite strange.

Orodan could be said to be stupid.

But being illiterate and stubborn wasn’t mutually exclusive to being street smart.

And that sounded very much like the old man had just been silenced.

Maybe it was best to hold off on receiving a Blessing from Agathor until he knew more about what it might entail?

“From now on, I shall handle your training. I believe you have advanced quite incredibly within the span of almost two months. Such prodigious talent would be best suited by my own guidance.”

“I see… and what would this guidance involve?” Orodan asked.

“Training in various martial arts and perhaps even learning to call upon my power yourself… if you wish it.”

“And if I say I don’t want to become host to an Avatar?”

“I would lament your short-sightedness and lose some respect for you. Understandable, as not every warrior can dare to reach for true eternal glory. But you can do as you wish.”

That sounded nice to Orodan. A little too nice.

The training session ended soon after.

Agathor claimed he had some business to deal with, and the God of War left while still in possession of the old man’s body. Although Agathor did say that Arvayne was expecting him in Jerestir two weeks from now.

Orodan never once let up the Fate Disconnect skill from that point onwards. Not since he knew that Gods couldn't grant Blessings while it was active.

There were two weeks left till the descent into the energy well, and Orodan would train by himself if needed.

Something told him he wouldn’t get the chance to speak to the old man again till then.

---

The old man never sought him out again during that time.

Orodan was slightly worried about whether the God of War had harmed his mentor. But then let the concern go upon calculating that powerful Chosen were difficult to come across.

Arvayne Firesword wasn’t the only Chosen One of Agathor in the world. The Inuanan God of War had other Chosen in Novarria and the Eastern Kingdoms. But they weren’t so numerous that he could afford to kill them without weakening his influence and losing powerful assets.

And Arvayne Firesword was Agathor's most powerful Chosen in the Republic.

So Orodan focused, and he trained.

He worked by himself over the course of the two weeks in-between attending classes.

While Arvayne wasn’t available to be his sparring partner any longer, he learned a nifty trick.

His action increase selves could hit him. Even if they lasted for a single second, he could continuously re-trigger them. This could create the effect of constant battle against his own ‘clones’.

Admittedly, it was a strange and somewhat janky method where he wasn’t able to have any meaningful melee exchanges. Each action increase clone lasted for only a second.

But this was compensated by the fact that he could spawn upto three of them and have them blitz him at the same time. And when he could launch hundreds of attacks a second. One second could fit a surprising amount of self-combat.

But, it was still an inferior method compared to having a training partner stronger than him.

So the next skill combination he achieved took more time. A triple combination borne from two weeks of effort.

Evading attacks that came his way, parrying ones that did in a manner that caused the attacker to become imbalanced. And being able to withstand incredible pressure and frequency of attacks. He was basically, unassailable within the same level.

[Skill Combination - Evasiveness 65 + Perfect Parry 71 + Impregnable Bladewall 72 → Unassailable Fortress 69 (Legendary)]

It was a fantastic defensive skill which allowed him to condense the effects of the skills he used in its creation.

As Orodan had come to learn, skill combinations removed the skills used in the combination from his Status altogether.

The thing was getting rather clunky and unsightly nowadays. So the more skill combinations, the better.

The level of the resulting skill would always be the average of the combining skills. And the rarity would be a step higher than the highest rarity skill used. In other words, skill combinations were only a benefit.

From the two results of skill combination, he would say the efficacy of the resulting skill was an almost half-again boost over simply using the combinatory skills in tandem.

But now, two weeks had passed, and it was time to make way for Jerestir, where the newly excavated energy well was waiting to be delved. A team of the Republic’s Grandmasters would be descending the shaft.

Orodan left the training chamber, and made his way to the landing zone of Bluefire where he would have a griffin waiting for him. Courtesy of Burgher Ignatius Firesword.

He made way and arrived, to find a familiar face.

“How come I always find you at the landing zone?” Orodan asked. “I feel this is a typical meeting point for us.”

“I could say the same for you Orodan! You’re always gallivanting about like some big shot, flying in and out on griffins,” the excitable girl exclaimed and then had a frown on her face. “Maybe this is all some conspiracy of yours to follow me around!”

Well… she was the first one here.

“I never asked why you’re here so early all the time,” Orodan remarked. “I saw Altaj here early as well. Some sort of morning flight to warm up?”

“Yes, that too… but mainly because my companion and his brother often travel back to their clan during this time to socialize and receive guidance from their elders,” Mahari spoke. “Just like we train, so do pegasi. Their elders provide mentorship and lessons to the promising younger ones among them. Frankly, I got lucky bonding with my companion… he has a Master-level pegasus as his teacher. They say he’ll grow up to be quite fierce.”

It explained why she had no pegasi around her currently.

“Interesting, so he’s some sort of prodigy then?” Orodan asked.

“Quite! He’s very fast and has some pretty high rarity skills for a pegasus of his age,” Mahari explained. “But if you want to see a real prodigy, my brother’s pegasus Ostronor is something else. He’s one of the main reasons we’re here and not at Rubywater back home.”

“Now that sounds like a story to tell.”

“Oh, it’s quite the tale back home. Altaj doesn’t like being the center of attention much though, he’s always been shy of such things,” Mahari elaborated. “Ostronor is one of the greatest pegasi born in many generations. He’s at the late Elite-level but could likely fight a Grandmaster evenly… and he decided to bond with my brother Altaj when he was a child, instead of the heir from the main line of our house.”

Orodan didn’t miss how Mahari’s face changed when she spoke about the main line. And for once he decided to ask.

“From the times I’ve heard you talk about it, you don’t sound very happy about the main line of your house,” Orodan remarked. “If I recall, you said they’re treated like the golden children?”

“I… don’t usually like talking about it. Altaj even less so. But, we’re friends and you’ve been far less nosy than the other students,” she added. “It’s not as conspiratorial of a tale as you’d think.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I have enough things of my own that people are always trying to badger me about,” Orodan assuaged. “I wasn’t aware that you get badgered by students about it though.”

“Well, of course. House Vedharna might be a border house, but our ancestor is probably one of the strongest people in the world,” Mahari spoke. “His shield has no equal. And he’s friends with the benevolent Sarastuga, the glorious lion that guards our people.”

A shield wielding man? Friends with that lion?

Orodan vaguely recalled seeing such a figure struggle valiantly against the Eldritch Avatar. He was one of the few to make it to the very end when most others had fallen. He was likely even more impressive than Mahari’s words could do justice. Especially if he was one of the final four remaining who fought the Eldritch Avatar.

“Hmm… I bet he’s quite the powerhouse,” Orodan muttered to himself, but gestured Mahari to continue.

“Anyways, long story short. House Vedharna’s main line are a bunch of arrogant jerks who’re still angry that Ostronor chose my brother as a companion rather than the noble and prophesied Akelrim Ilo Vedharna, the ‘golden heir’,” she explained. “To avoid the risk of any foul play against my brother and the risk of subsequently offending the pegasi clans, the house sent us to Bluefire, away from home.”

“I’m sorry… that does sound annoying. Why not grow strong and then return to crush their heads beneath your heels?” Orodan asked.

“What do you think I’m here for!? To knit dresses and cook meals?”

Orodan admitted he couldn’t see Mahari sitting still long enough to ever do either of those things. That she was dabbling in Alchemy was wondrous enough.

“Alright, alright… I get it,” Orodan said, raising his arms in surrender. “I assume this Akelrim isn’t a nice character?”

“It’s not that he’s an abrasive bully, but that he just has no time for the likes of us,” Mahari explained. “I almost wish it was easier to hate him… but Akelrim didn’t even care when Ostronor picked my brother. He’s more focused on his own path to personal strength. He’s strong enough to give a newly advanced Grandmaster a run for their money, and only at the Elite-level too. He’s without a doubt Rubywater’s strongest student and a monster in his generation like you are.”

Sounded like a fun fight to Orodan.

“But, I presume your house uses him as the point of contention to send you here? How does that make sense when the man himself bears no ill will?” Orodan asked. “Unless he has some sycophantic followers who would do desperate things to curry favor from him?”

Mahari resentfully nodded.

“Precisely so… thus we’re stuck in Bluefire,” Mahari spoke bitterly. “Not to say this isn’t a nice place and we haven’t met pleasant people such as you. But it isn’t home.”

“I think I understand. I quite miss my old hovel in Ogdenborough,” Orodan related. “Sleeping in all these new guest manors and lodgings the Burgher and the academy provide me just doesn’t feel right.”

Mahari looked at him…

…and she laughed.

“Oh my! Here I am complaining about my homesick woes while you were struggling in one of the poorest areas in the Republic,” Mahari remarked. “I apologize Orodan. I’m not laughing at you, rather at the absurdity of my own situation. You’ve really helped put things into perspective for me with your words… for a straightforward blunt man as yourself, you’re surprisingly keen and wise when you want to be.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, you need not play stupid. Accept the praise!”

Orodan didn’t know what she was talking about! He really had tried to make her feel a bit better by relating about his experience with all these overly gaudy lodgings he was provided.

Was it something profound to say he missed his old hovel?

It had been so long since he cleaned the place.

It was his!

---

Energy wells were coveted national treasures. They had rare resources that could only be acquired within. World energy practically flooded from energy wells, and even if it was invisible to the eye it still suffused the environment for many miles.

Jerestir’s existing magical trees and plant reserves were likely due to the previously undiscovered well.

The only other known energy well in the Republic was at the center of Anthus. A city which had defenses comparable to Karilsgard itself.

So it stood to reason, that the discovery of a new one in the border town of Jerestir would cause much upheaval.

It went without saying that the excavation was as prompt as could be. But the real reason it had taken almost two entire months to excavate the path all the way to the opening, was that new path was reinforced beyond measure.

Shockwaves from fighting collapsing the tunnels leading out would no longer be an issue. The walls could take the blows of a Grandmaster and there were additional reinforcing columns and pillars every few feet.

Orodan suspected that attacks which destroyed the entire surface town of Jerestir would still leave these new tunnels untouched.

But energy wells were not only coveted by the mortal races, but by monsters as well.

He stood alongside Burgher Ignatius Firesword as he received the report from the Republic’s survey team.

In truth the Burgher, a mere Elite, was woefully unqualified to be present for such a report. But his position as the nominal head of House Firesword meant that he was in charge of a lot of background support.

Additionally, the excavated path to the energy well ran through his mines. And a decent portion of the town of Jerestir was under his control. The only other competitor of note being House Simarji who were quite friendly with House Firesword.

So while the man was rather underpowered in battle, he still featured prominently in the administrative side of things.

“Mister Wainwright! Burgher Ignatius!” the frantic scout greeted, his eyes particularly widening at the sight of Orodan. “Sirs, the survey team and scouts report that the situation is stable for now, but it could deteriorate at any moment.”

“What do you mean it could deteriorate?” Orodan asked. “I was under the impression that even during excavation there was a rather heavily armed force present here at all times? Unless… something from below might crawl upwards now that we’ve fully excavated the opening?”

“Precisely so sir!” the scout dutifully replied. “The war party we have on standby consists of multiple Masters and decent magical artillery support, but that’s mainly to deter the Novarrians from being opportunistic.”

That was another dimension of the situation at Jerestir.

The discovery of the energy well spread quickly, within the Republic and without.

For the Empire of Novarria that bordered the Republic, a newly discovered energy well in the border town of Jerestir could provoke opportunism.

The Republic’s military presence on the surface was thus quite heavy. Both to defend against the constant monster attacks from minor critters during excavation, and to dissuade the covetous Novarrians.

The ancient war machine under Mount Castarian, while a unique opportunity to open a permanent passage to the hells, wasn’t as valuable as the proven wealth that an energy well could generate for a nation.

Thus, the war party consisted of many Master-level individuals. Even the High-Burgher, the nominal head of the Republic’s council, was present. It was a far cry and a massive step up in force deployment from what he’d seen in regards to Eversong Plaza where no Republican Masters had shown up in response.

The Republic considered energy wells a big deal, and were willing to deploy force to defend them.

“Have the Novarrians tried anything?” Orodan asked.

“No sir, thankfully they’ve just increased their scouting parties and have a decent force on their side of the border like we do,” the man replied. “Admittedly, their beast tamers have tried sending familiars to spy on us from the sky or by hiding among the foliage, but our psionics sniffed them out.”

“Good. And the energy well itself? What’s the situation down there?” the Burgher interjected.

“Sir… the situation must have changed from when Mister Wainwright delved downwards. There are some new creatures that our earth mages and sensory specialists can detect,” the man spoke with a bit of fear. “A colony of ants attempted to charge upwards from the lower levels of the well, but they looked like they were running from something. We captured them and they told us that they were the last survivors of their colony. They were running from… a Death Roach.”

A Death Roach? Would he finally get the chance to face one down?

Orodan’s blood boiled in excitement.

In contrast the Burgher’s face paled and the man had a look of genuine fear on his face.

“Surely they aren’t as bad as the stories make them out to be,” Orodan remarked.

“My young friend… your prodigious talent and heroic disposition are qualities not shared by everyone else,” the man muttered. “Death Roaches are responsible for entire war parties of Masters going missing. I know you’re someone whose power approaches that of the ancestor… but I still bid you be cautious.”

“I make no promises… but I have things to live for yet, so I’ll do my best,” Orodan weakly reassured. “Anyhow, do we have some kind of tracking of its current whereabouts?”

“Yes sir, the Cathedral’s diviners have caught sight of it in the tapestry of fate and are attempting to monitor it as we speak. Although it's flitting in and out of the depth where they lose sight due to the world energy interference,” the man spoke and Orodan bade him to lead the way to them.

They walked towards a somewhat opulent tent, in typical Cathedral fashion. Two guards dressed in ornate armor guarded the entrance, although they parted upon seeing Orodan.

Inside were almost a dozen diviners using a variety of instruments. It looked like some sort of field command center for the diviners who were furiously working. Assistants waltzed about and artificers were monitoring the devices they were using.

Orodan had never seen diviners work together or what their work spaces looked like, so to him it was somewhat eye opening.

On a raised platform above, stood Lady Lakshiya, the High-Oracle of the Cathedral of Karilsgard. A famous Favored, and host to the Avatar of Ilyatana for many loops where the Goddess plagued Orodan.

He could probably kill her if she was in her Avatar state now, even if it would still be an uphill battle. Although Alcianne Rockwood and the two other Grandmasters standing next to her would complicate the matter.

And below, were diviners working on various orbs, assisting the High-Oracle as her eyes glowed. One of these diviners… was Katareya Eldragon.

Who had stopped working for a moment to look right at Orodan.

How awkward. Had Novus perhaps spoken to her about their interaction?

To her credit, the woman’s face betrayed no emotions and she kept a strictly business persona moving forward.

Speaking to her would put the woman in an uncomfortable position, and Orodan was more interested in getting the details directly from the High-Oracle.

He marched up to the platform and Alcianne Rockwood gave him a wave.

“Orodan Wainwright, I would have ordered you dragged here myself if you hadn’t showed up,” the old brawny woman spoke. “I hear you caused a ruckus with the Time Wind, good job. Those dragons could use a little humility.”

“I suppose I did, they challenged me at a specialty of mine,” Orodan replied. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen or heard of Arvayne Firesword in the last two weeks have you?”

“No? That old uptight fool has a habit of disappearing for months on end… ever since he started kissing Agathor’s arse many years ago,” Alcianne replied. “Did your mentor abandon you? My offer still stands you know? I’ve been looking into you more, and Halor is very impressed. He’d offer you training and assistance without any strings attached. I know Arvayne’s gotten his hands on you… but just make an informed decision before committing to Agathor.”

“You speak about Agathor as though I should be wary of him, why? The Cathedral and the books don’t say anything of concern,” Orodan remarked.

“Look… you’re Arvayne’s student, so I can’t go around trying to poach you too directly, but you should know that there’s a reason you see so many priests of Agathor and Ilyatana going around. The Cathedral won’t say this as they don’t like to promote distrust of the Gods or strife between followers of the Prime Five but-”

The tent flap opened, and an old man walked in.

His mentor who had bailed on him for two weeks had returned.

“Old man!” Orodan exclaimed. “Where have you been?”

“Boy… I’ve been busy. Nothing else to it,” the old man replied.

Orodan looked at him expectantly, and waited.

When no further answer came, Orodan said nothing himself.

There was definitely some sort of divine strong-arming going on.

Agathor was looking less trustworthy by the second. And his mentor Arvayne Firesword might be compromised.

“Revered ancients and young hero, I am honored to have you here,” Lady Lakshiya spoke. “Allow me to give you an update on the Death Roach and its trajectory.”

“Spare us the pleasantries, spit it out,” spoke Alcianne.

The High-Oracle couldn’t get offended even if she wanted to. Her senior, the Chosen of Ilyatana, would be beaten to a pulp if the man tried fighting Alcianne Rockwood. She had no backing to take offense from the blunt manners of the Chosen of Halor.

“As you wish my lady…” she muttered. “The Death Roach… is suspected to be at least a dual-Grandmaster. It is currently roaming about the lower portions of the energy well, not trending upwards. We lose sight of it at times when it ventures too deep.”

“Dual-Grandmaster? For a Death Roach to be that strong… if it dared approach the surface the world might even issue a Quest,” Arvayne Firesword muttered. “Perhaps we should bait it into rising upwards, young Orodan here might be able to receive a great reward from its defeat.”

Even Orodan wouldn’t have thought of that. It sounded like a great idea!

But coming from Arvayne Firesword, it sounded unnatural.

Orodan frowned at his mentor. He knew something was wrong with the man, but this as good as confirmed it. The old man, the very soul of caution… would never suggest something so reckless.

“Oh! So now you want to suddenly be a little daring Arvayne?” Alcianne derisively spat with a sharp look of her own. “Is this your attempt at making up for your past sins? Or have you gone farther than simply kissing Agathor’s ass cheeks?”

The banter might have sounded humorous, but it was the farthest from it.

Arvayne’s eyes spoke deadly violence, and even Alcianne looked as though she wanted to fight.

The standoff between the two continued for a while longer until the fizzle of a space portal opening up was heard. And a man stepped through.

Blue robes, long white beard and eyes that spoke of an immense wisdom.

The man had also somehow bypassed the anti-teleportation wards that should have been in effect around Jerestir.

“Destartes… since when have you been capable of doing that?” Arvayne sharply demanded. “How did you bypass the wards?”

“A simple affair once I have enough mana to brute force a needle sized portal directly to the ward’s power source. An emplaced mana siphoning device to drain the wards following that is rather trivial,” the old wizard explained. “Worry not, I’ve rebuilt the wards… with a slight entryway for myself of course.”

“You and your experiments… why not just punch things?” Alcianne asked with a grin.

“Now that just sounds dreadfully exhausting,” the old wizard Destartes spoke. “But is this Arvayne Firesword’s new protégé I see? I thought I had a tremendous mana pool for besting a Master-level dragon in that trial… but you really went ahead and just beat the whole thing?”

“It wasn’t too hard given that I had a Mythical skill meant for such contests,” Orodan replied.

“Of course you have a Mythical skill. It’d explain why the old zealot here has you as his student,” Destartes replied. “Has he told you about-”

“Enough! Destartes, stop meddling!” Arvayne roared.

Both Alcianne and Destartes now looked at the furious Arvayne with suspicion in their eyes. As did Orodan.

Before anything further could come of it however, the clarinets outside rang.

All parties agreed to shelve the conversation for later as they stepped outside.

A messenger spoke.

“My lords and ladies! Novarrians approach the town, they seek a meeting!”

---

The Grandmasters of the Republic were gathered on one side, the Novarrian party on the other.

Despite them being nominal enemies, open war wasn’t the current diplomatic state of affairs. Furthermore, many of the Grandmasters knew each other from before the Liberation War.

To Grandmasters, what did a mere Liberation War a hundred and twenty years ago mean to friendships that were centuries long?

Orodan felt that nearly a dozen people on the Novarrian side were Grandmaster-level individuals. Matching the roughly dozen or so Grandmasters of their own. He instinctively felt that at least three of them in particular were quite deadly as they were giving him a dangerous feeling.

Two of them were old and decrepit looking. But the last one… was an almost middle aged, but still youthful looking man.

Alcianne Rockwood kept a wary gaze on this man.

“Alcianne, you’re looking quite healthy and unburdened,” the younger man spoke, taking the lead among the Novarrians. “We simply came by to pay our respects to the fortunate Republic who uncovered yet another energy well in their bountiful territory. Truly… such good fortune.”

“What do you want Demosthenos,” Alcianne spat. “Unless you’ve come looking for a fight, we don’t have much to say to one another.”

“A fight? That’d be unfair considering I sent you running the last time you tried causing trouble in my city,” the man known as Demosthenos spoke. “How did you lift the curse anyways? Ilogaji isn’t yet good enough to concoct a potion of curse-dispelling that works on one of mine. Unless of course… those far-fetched rumors I’ve been hearing are actually true?”

The man spoke with an exaggerated flourish and gasp.

“Fuck off! You should’ve stayed dead when you died the first time,” the burly woman said in a moment of heat. “We have enough military power here to send you packing, and you’ll take heavy casualties too. The Time Wind and Eastern Kingdoms are also ready to respond quickly… so reconsider if you've come here seeking trouble.”

“Now why would I be so rude as to rush into your quaint little border town and trash the place?” the Novarrian asked. “Why, after someone tried rushing into Novar’s Peak and rampaging during the Liberation War, I put a stop to them myself.”

Alcianne’s fist clenched as the man kept goading her.

The Liberation War? Could he be…?

“Enough, what do you want?”

“Nothing but the pleasure of a friendly visit and a reminder that the resources you find within the energy well should still be open to fair trade and bidding from us, as per the Treaty of Oxraan,” Demosthenos spoke. “Of course, I hope you’ll honor this treaty… unlike the Grandmaster non-interference pact which I’m certain was broken when a number of our Masters were killed underneath Mount Castarian.”

“Demosthenos, we’ve been through enough mutual truth-verifying sessions with skills and Blessings involved,” Destartes spoke. “I think we both know that we didn’t send any Grandmaster to interfere in the conflict between our Masters and yours.”

“I want to believe you… but the wounds on Duke Arestos suggest he was overwhelmed with raw power. For someone who was to advance to the Grandmaster-level in a century, he was quite talented,” Demosthenos spoke. “How else would a Master of his caliber be overpowered besides by a Grandmaster? Your High-Burgher wasn’t nearby, and no known opponents of his caliber were around.”

“And how is that our problem?” Alcianne sharply asked. “If he died to someone we don’t know about that can only be his problem.”

“Correct, hence I’ve begun to believe the crazy rumors going around and have an insane theory in my mind… that there’s this monstrous young prodigy who sprung up all of a sudden,” the Novarrian began. “And it’s this incredible young man who slew our Duke Arestos and then disabled the ancient machine. I also hear that this man slew a dweller worm, killed a spider dragon and is responsible for lifting your curse Alcianne. Considering you have only one young man standing up here with you amidst a gathering of old fogeys, I even daresay that this is him. Isn’t that right, Orodan Wainwright?”

Orodan suddenly felt very seen.

The Novarrian’s eyes were on him.

Orodan stared back and met Demosthenos’s gaze.

“You know my name, but I don’t think you gave me yours,” Orodan spoke.

“Well… much like yourself there are rumors surrounding me. Mostly nonsensical of course!” the man began. “Some say I’m a reincarnator, others say I’m the greatest curse master in history. I say that they’re correct on both those counts. Some knew me as the shadow emperor eleven-thousand years ago… others call me that now. I am Demosthenos Albathrax, advisor to the Emperor. And you greatly interest me my young friend.”

A bit long-winded, Orodan thought.

“Well, I have no interest in you… except perhaps fighting one day,” Orodan said with an excited grin.

“Ask that brutish woman how it went for her a hundred and twenty years ago,” the reincarnator remarked. “I see in your eyes that you’re a bit of a lunatic though… odd to see that in one so young. Quite powerful too from the feeling I get. Are you perhaps reborn like myself? What barbarian warlord were you in your past life?”

“None. I’m not a reincarnator,” Orodan replied.

“Hmm… interesting. If true, it’d make you a talent the likes of which even I haven’t seen,” Demosthenos spoke. “Why waste your time with the weaklings in this little pretend-Republic? If you joined Novarria, the Empire could properly guide a powerful young man such as yourself. You would have access to every possible luxury, treasure and rare item to help you along your path to power that you can think of.”

Orodan actually considered it for a moment.

Maybe not in this loop.

But down the line, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

But for now, his lot was with the Republic.

“I’m afraid not. I have business here that needs to be wrapped up,” Orodan spoke. “The Republic is my home, so I also wouldn’t be too keen on fighting against it.”

If Orodan were to ever try throwing in with the Novarrians down the line, it would be in a non-military role. Or at least one that didn’t involve waging war against House Firesword or Simarji.

Killing was one thing. But harming people who'd done him good turns was another.

“Fair enough, I tried,” the man spoke. “That will be all on my end, I simply came by to leave you fair old coots of the Republic with the reminder about the Treaty. Getting to meet you was the icing on the cake Orodan Wainwright. For your sake, I hope we don’t meet in battle next time.”

The man said and turned away.

Orodan acutely felt the dangerous aura the reincarnator gave off…

…and it only made his blood sing for battle!

That man sent the Avatar of Halor running… just how strong was this reincarnator Demosthenos Albathrax? Orodan hoped to one day test that.

But for now, other matters awaited.

Descending the energy well, dealing with a dual-Grandmaster Death Roach and navigating his relationship with his altered mentor came first.

The first two sounded fun.

Orodan wasn’t too sure about how he’d deal with the third.