– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 86 –

"Terry, what the effing Wastes?" Derek stared at the three mountains of transfixed items that locked into place around the mighty Demonpalm.

"Okay who had the instructor getting trapped at the end in the pot?" asked one of Palmer's disciples.

"No one, and you know it," grumbled Rosheen.

"Which means I did." The disciple grinned widely. "Since I'm the bank."

"Screw you."

"The spar isn't over yet!"

"Looks over to me."

"Yeah, even Instructor Palmer can't disrupt the spells quicker than the Hammer's Disciple can cast."

"Then why is the Demonpalm grinning so much?"

"Because the instructor is insane. What else is new?"

"Ridiculous."

"Ridiculous is that Terry has spent practically every minute in the training grounds ever since we've arrived," grumbled Derek. "He was a training maniac in Tiv, but at least he took breaks occasionally. Has he even slept since he came back from Arcana?"

"Who knows?" Rosheen rested her head on her hands while placing her elbows on her knees. "Perhaps he took a quick nap during our spars. Wouldn't put it past him." She shivered at the memory of their rematch.

Derek and her had fought Terry two on one. They had thought they had a good chance, only to be routed more easily than either of them cared to remember.

No matter how Rosheen tried to conceal her presence, Terry didn't so much as grace her with a single second of trouble in finding her.

No matter that Derek's soul-based mana pool treatment proved promising. He stood no chance against Terry in close combat. The distasteful cherry on top was that Terry had punished Derek's Mana Drain attempt with some ridiculous display of disruption variants that ended with Derek losing all the mana from his still-impaired pool.

"Are we sure he's just casting a single spell?" Rosheen murmured and squinted at the arena where another set of sparring partners lined up for Terry.

"Yes," said Elena. "He's just really annoying with it."

Elena, Tiana, and Vess had marched into the spectator seats.

While Vess began chatting with some of Palmer's disciples about life in Tiv and Thanatos, Elena retrieved a book.

"Martialist cultivation reference?" prompted Tiana. "Are you really going through with it?"

"Not sure yet," said Elena. "But the more I read, the more I think I will. Martialists apparently have a thing for blood-aspected cultivation techniques. There are many blood-aspected martialist techniques that are compatible with my spellwork and chosen body inscriptions." She held out the book. "This is the one I favor at the moment."

"Blood refining…" Tiana furrowed her brow. "That wouldn't have anything to do with the idea that Siling and Siyu are cooking up with the Spirit Tower, would it?"

Elena grinned. "Perhaps. I mean if it works, then that's at least three birds with one stone."

"Yeah, well, I suspect one of those birds will object." Tiana nodded towards Terry's ongoing spar against a diverse group of martialists from various sects. "Terry seems pretty determined in this. He's obviously pushing himself to prepare for the match. He won't let this go."

"Probably not." Elena shrugged. "Or not for long, but if it happens to buy Lori some more time to try and dissuade him, then all the better." She exhaled a sharp breath of air. "Only matters if he wins, anyway. Do you think he has a chance?"

"Depends on how hard Bjorln and Isille are willing to hit him on the head, I guess," replied Tiana. She clicked her tongue. "Then again, Terry is a bad counter to Isille's item reliance and Bjorln's discharges. Terry also had yet another sizable jump in power after the last battle in the Lich Kingdoms. So who can say? Not to mention that he won't be fighting alone."

Elena glanced towards the sparring match. "He doesn't know that yet, does he?"

"I think he knows, but he just doesn't believe it." Tiana chortled. "That's a really stubborn family."

***

Terry was exasperated. He knew that his match against his parents would be a pain, but he hadn't expected that the pain would already start before he had even set a single foot into the large trial arena of the Lands of the Four Towers.

"Jorg, no!" Terry tried hard to not raise his voice. He knew that his brother was merely concerned about him.

"Jorg, yes," corrected Jorg without missing a beat. He was determinedly walking right behind Terry while checking his equipment.

"Jorg, NO!"

"Jorg, YES!" Jorg held his brother's gaze firmly now that he had finished his checks. "I told you if you go, then I go. So I'll have to face them just like you do."

"I didn't ask you to—"

"No, you didn't." Jorg cut him off. "And when we were in front of Alrik's secret dungeon, I said that no one has to go if they don't want to. You clearly didn't want to, but you went with us regardless. We're whaka. I'm going with you. If you don't like it, then stay. That's all I have to say."

"Jorg—"

"No." Jorg cut his brother off again. "You know if you had asked, then I wouldn't be the only one gearing up right now."

"That's why I didn't ask!"

"Well, you're not the only one entitled to be stubborn." Jorg shrugged. "Just so you understand, there will be more than just me. The others are either hoping you'll lose today or they simply don't want to butt into the match with our parents."

Terry rubbed his eyes. "Lori?"

"Oh, she's hoping we'll lose alright." Jorg chuckled drily. "But in case we win, then as long as I'll go, she'll stay to train in the Elemental Tower. You had a point about our paths being different."

Terry latched onto the small glimmer of hope to not drag his siblings into a cursed realm. "Then why don't you stay as well?"

"First of all, because the last time I stayed home, you disappeared for years," said Jorg somberly. "This time, I don't have to sit Pa at home, so I have no intention of staying."

"But—"

"And even though you had a point for Lori, you missed something about me, Whaka Terry." Jorg stopped walking to firmly look into his brother's eyes. "I don't blame you for missing that. I'm sure it's hard for you to imagine."

While Terry had been tempted to quickly dash off to leave Jorg behind at first, the tone in his brother's voice caused him to throw away all such thoughts.

"You said that it is my pick when it comes to choosing a path." Jorg smiled while shaking his head. "In a sense, you're right. I'm unaspected after all. However, you're also wrong. I'm not like you, Terry. I'm not even like Lori. It takes me a considerable amount of time to pick up new spellwork."

Right. His external mana control isn't as impaired as Ma's, but it's still affecting his spellwork.

"The Elemental Tower is the right place for Lori to learn, because whenever she's mastered a spell, she can progress right to the next one," continued Jorg. "Leaving here would impair her progress. You had a point."

Jorg pointed at himself. "Me though? I don't need a whole library or an assortment of potential instructors. My path isn't limited by options or access. It's limited by time. I already know exactly which spells I want to master in the coming cycles. I know their spell structures by heart. I know how they look. I just can't shape them yet. As for runic inscriptions, I know the basics. I have the tools. I have my references and study guides with me wherever I go. I need time to practice and I don't need to stay in a specific place for that. I can go wherever I want."

Just when Terry was trying to find the right words to say, his thoughts were interrupted by a shout from further down the entrance tunnel.

"Oy, brother, what's taking so long? The crowd is getting itchy. We shouldn't let them wait for the return of the Rising Rookies! Time to let loose and spread our name once more!"

Terry's eyes widened. He had known that Rafael had been hanging around near the arena entrance, but he hadn't thought much about it.

Someone must have spread the details of their family match around, which invited a lot of spectators. Terry didn't know who it had been. Could be the martialists in their misguided fervor. Could be some of the unionists eager to cheer for their Guardian. Could be his parents to increase the pressure or exploit any potential crowd anxiety.

Could be a felan martialist with a need for attention.

Terry's face cramped up. He looked at Jorg to find his own expression mirrored on his dwarven brother.

"I take it you didn't know that Rafael would butt in?" asked Terry.

"I knew he would follow in the pioneering mission, but I didn't think he would be stupid enough to get into an arena with Ma." Jorg grimaced. "Especially after Ma magnanimously refrained from placing a spear where the sun doesn't shine. I appreciate Rafael's battle-brother sentiment, but does he realize that he's not covered by the same shield of familial affection as us? I'm not sure Ma will hold back for him." He scrunched up his face. "She wouldn't kill him, would she?"

Not as long as Rafael behaves…

***

"So much for hoping they would go easy on us." Jorg puffed his cheeks. He stood to Terry's right, while Rafael was posturing on Terry's left.

On the other side of the large arena, Isille and Bjorln were waiting with more than two dozen constructs.

"Is it just me or is Ma even more geared up than when fighting the Lich Kingdoms?" Terry exhaled sharply.

Not even an inch of exposed skin. Mana-osmotic coating on everything. Even the layer of cloth at the neck between the interlocking plates appears to be woven from something that blocks mana. Something behind the armor appears to be projecting a mana shielding, too.

"Pa isn't wearing any, though," remarked Jorg. "Weird."

Not weird at all.

"Pa's the one to first advise me to focus on targeting armor with my spell." Terry took a deep breath and allowed his mana bubble to wash over his 'opponents'.

Guess they're taking different approaches.

Ma's equipment is completely coated in mana-osmotic material. Auntie must have done some overtime to finish that mage hunter outfit. Unless I manage to damage that, I won't have a chance to target Ma with my spell. At least not directly…

Pa apparently aims to avoid spell targets completely. His only item is a storage bracelet. He's relying less on weapons and more on discharges. The mana-osmotic layers probably limit what the equipment can be used for while they will still suck up mana. If he decided to ditch equipment to conserve mana, then he'll be the one playing assist for Ma.

The constructs…

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Heavily armored quadrupedal constructs for close-combat. Some of them with inscriptions for ranged combat. Different models. Underground and airborne types perhaps?

Dedicated flying constructs for ranged support and attacks.

…and two large problems.

Terry frowned at the two anti-magic doll golems.

"This is going to be rough," said Jorg.

"Bah!" Rafael scoffed and marched forward with squared shoulders. "There's still time for you to reconsider! Scram! Don't forget your toys!"

Oy. What are you doing?!

Isille silently walked forward and pointed one of her short spears towards Rafael. Clearly indicating that she had no plans to reconsider.

"Insolent!" growled Rafael. "Don't blame us for being impolite then! My brother will be free to do as he pleases! If I have to crack a few old bones to get there, then so be it!"

"Did he just call them old?" Jorg grimaced.

"REJOICE!" Rafael turned to the audience. "For today we will prove why the Rising Rookies were indomitable in the Thanatos Proving Grounds!" He raised a fist. "The Heavenly Wolf!" He raised a second fist. "And the Immovable Guardian!" His gaze fell to Jorg and he lowered his fists. He cleared his throat and said more quietly. "And with a guest midget, I guess."

"Is it against the rules to stab my own teammate?" Jorg glowered. "Asking for a friend."

Terry couldn't help but laugh. Rafael might appear insane, but his antics certainly helped to break the tension. He knew that Rafael and Jorg got along. He had seen the two spar together a lot in the training grounds.

Terry took a deep breath and switched to speaking with the communication talismans that Rafael had provided. [Let's clean up the regular constructs first. Don't worry about the smaller flying ones. I got them covered. Head to the sky. Dodge the dolls as long as you can.]

Terry had the feeling the battle would end up intense but short. However, just in case, he wanted to keep their options open.

Terry had the advantage in the air and while Rafael wasn't as used to the flying dashes of his Heavenly Wolf technique as Terry was with his air jumps, the martialist could move through the air as well. Jorg wasn't used to airborne combat, but he did focus on mobility and barriers. Jorg's role was more of an assist, so it would help to keep him out of harm's way.

The fact that Rafael didn't complain about the defensive start told Terry that his felan friend was taking the battle seriously.

Terry could feel the gazes of his parents on him when the signal to start the match was released.

The signal was followed by a loud boom and a bustling of activity. The boom was thanks to Bjorln roaring forward with a fire-aspected discharge from his feet.

From Jorg's hands a volley of many small spheres were released onto the ground. Imprints charged outwards and walls of earth rose up to turn into stone while Jorg vanished in a blinding light.

While Rafael unleashed his own aerial movement technique, Terry dumped two barrels of water onto the floor while his mana bubble contracted and more of his mana gushed out of his mana pool.

His mana flowed around the constructs. With him pushing it forward, he didn't have to study the complex quasi-crystal shielding. Like a liquid leaking through even the tiniest available openings, his mana eventually penetrated all of them.

While others might be unable to exploit their mana behind the mana-obstructing layers, Terry had no such problems. His mana compressed eagerly to overpower the internal mana layers.

His disruption fields sprouted all over the battlefield to envelop the slower constructs and rip into their mana shielding directly and allow more of his mana to invade.

Divine barriers manifested to block the incoming barrage of ranged attacks while Terry darted upwards. He paced himself to exploit the violent impacts on Jorg's walls of stone – both by spells and an angry dwarf alike.

As soon as the dumped water was disturbed by the flying debris, Terry used the magic from his armor to create transfixed ice shrapnel as well as a layer of ice on the ground.

Using fire-aspected bursts to propel yourself forward is a nice idea, but it suffers from the same drawback as the inflexible martialist techniques. High speed but low agility.

Terry and Jorg both summoned barriers to protect Rafael from incoming attacks by the constructs while the felan was charging an attack of his own. Meanwhile, Jorg continued using Blink to move upwards while occasionally relying on the Immovable Object imprints in his equipment to get a stable footing.

Terry pulled on the smaller flying constructs with his bidirectional attraction glove. Their smaller mass made them easy targets to pull and trap them in immovable ice. He could sense some of the larger constructs burrowing into the ground, which merely elicited a combination of Harden Earth and Immovable Object to block their lines of attack.

Nice of you to take yourself out of the main fight.

Terry was very pleased with himself when he managed to transfix parts of the first constructs. He hurled divine hammers to let the force ensure that the constructs would be damaged against the transfixed parts before exploiting the resulting internal damage.

Even though the constructs were trapped in place by the transfixed parts, they remained a threat because they were still able to fire their inscriptions. Terry used the damage he had caused to place more spells and unleash his disruption grinders to work on the inscriptions.

Terry's face cramped up when he sensed an intense magic forming up from the direction of Bjorln. He had discounted his proximity to Bjorln, because he was not afraid of engaging in close combat. He had not worried about ranged attacks because the dwarf was not versed in spellwork and ran on a limited mana supply for discharges.

The large-scale magic roaring towards him, however, was neither spell nor discharge.

It was from a damned scroll.

And not just one.

Terry burst his mana and hurriedly unleashed his full disruption domain, which did little to stop the anti-magic doll construct that rapidly charged towards him under the cover of the scroll's effect.

Mana roared through Terry's veins as he engaged the anti-magic construct in the air.

The construct fought differently from a person because its joints all rotated up to 360 degrees. Normally, such mobility would imply gaps for Terry's mana to penetrate and cast his spell, but the doll's anti-magic made this impossible.

Fortunately, Terry's own battle style moved differently from regular people as well. The doll construct appeared trained for ground-based combat or flying opponents, not for someone jumping on divine layers of mana and rotating around transfixed pearls.

Suddenly, the divine barrier under Terry's feet vanished and he knew this would be a headache. The anti-magic touch of the construct erased his footing and he had to catch himself with his armor and spell.

[I got your back!] Rafael's voice reached Terry's mind. Up above, the felan had stopped moving to unleash his attack while Jorg protected him with barriers. Jorg had realized his barriers would be useless in stopping the anti-magic doll.

"HEAVENLY WOLF SLASH!"

Feeling the powerful mana resonance aiming for the doll construct, Terry switched his approach.

Nice sentiment, but the anti-magic surface would turn that mana to waste.

Wait…

A memory from the Trial of Havoc in the martialists' folded space surfaced in his mind.

Terry's metal manipulation inscriptions flared and liquid metal flowed from the dimensional pockets in his forearms to quickly encase the anti-magic construct. Unfortunately, for the anti-magic doll, its anti-magic only returned the metal to a solid state.

The layer was thin, but wide enough for Terry to transfix. The doll would be able to break out, but not before the gigantic white wolf ripped into it.

The anti-magic might weaken the resonance technique on contact, but the secondary effect from the distorting metal pierced into the doll with full force.

Terry dodged his head to avoid the ice-fist flying in from Bjorln and continued with his idea. Metal shaped around Bjorln's arm – including his storage bracelet – and transfixed the dwarf in place.

Terry distanced himself from Bjorln. He did not expect the metal to remain transfixed, given his Pa's disruption experience, but it would serve as a possible spell target from now on.

Unless he decides to melt it off… Mana, I hope he won't submit himself to that.

If he does, though, then that should damage the storage bracelet. As long as it stays on, it should impede him from summoning items from the storage. No more scrolls. Win-win.

Terry felt a bit bad at exploiting Bjorln's lacking external mana control with the additional metal obstruction, but he wouldn't back off from this confrontation.

As long as I have material manipulation options, Pa's approach doesn't really work that well.

Terry's eyes darted around and then narrowed. Evaluating the approach of his father, made him realize that he had lost track of his mother.

And the second anti-magic construct.

As if on cue, two shapes burst forth from the shadows. While the anti-magic doll charged at Jorg, Isille was slashing her spears at Rafael, who was hard-pressed in dodging.

She must have some inscriptions inside that allow her to fly and navigate the shadows.

Jorg tried to hold on by dodging with his Blink spell. He tried to retrieve a metal slab and use a wand to transfix it, but he wasn't fast enough. Fortunately for him, Terry was, even from his current location. The metal slab transfixed to block the raging doll and bought Jorg time to assist Rafael with a barrier.

Terry took a deep breath and pulled a flying construct into the path of Bjorln's fire-aspected discharge.

He had to constantly reapply his spells on his father and the many constructs, because his spell kept getting disrupted no matter how much he compressed the spell structure.

From a general battle-perspective, they were doing well. Terry was working his way through the constructs with many of them already being completely disabled. He had even confirmed a weakness to exploit when dealing with the anti-magic dolls.

Anti-magic they might wield, but secondary effects still worked for damaging them. Once trapped, he just had to keep up his spellwork on their tomb to finish them off.

Unfortunately, there were many aspects to this battle. No one held any sentiments for the constructs, but the living folks were a different topic.

"SURRENDER!" roared Isille from Rafael's back. One of her spear poles was on Rafael's stomach and pressed him against his back while the blade of her second spear threatened his neck.

For a moment, Terry wondered if his mother had singled out Rafael to vent her resentment about the folded space. He quickly dismissed that thought. He had the impression that Isille had chosen her approach for a different lesson.

A lesson meant for Terry.

I never asked them to join, but if they come, then I'm responsible.

Terry didn't think it was entirely fair, but he saw their point. He understood that his decision would not just affect himself, but even so, he still felt like he had to go.

"Daring to threaten my brother with my life," growled Rafael. "SCRAM!" He roared and unleashed his movement technique despite the blade at his throat. A move of an insane madman. Even if Isille had wanted to show mercy, the rapid acceleration had her inertia cut through his jugular just the same.

A healing spell arrived just in time to prevent the worst. Jorg had accepted a hit from the doll construct in exchange for healing the injured felan.

While divine barriers shaped up for Jorg to help him jump and dodge the doll construct, Rafael fluidly chained his movement technique into a heavenly wolf slash. Instead of aiming for Isille, the heavenly wolf charged into the immobilized doll construct on the ground.

Terry stopped his spell in time for Rafael's slash to cave the metal tomb in and force the metal into the doll construct.

Terry could sense a brief moment of hesitation in Isille's movements. If it was because of bafflement at the display of martialist insanity or a sign of a growing respect for Rafael's resolve for his martial brother, Terry didn't know.

Nor did he care.

Seeing his companion threatened woke Terry up from his own hesitation. He knew that Isille would not stay her blade a second time, so neither could he.

There are capable healers around to heal whatever damage I will cause…

Terry grit his teeth and retrieved his king spear while his other hand retrieved a transparent sharpened disc just barely thick enough to target it with Immovable Object. He had chosen not to break Bjorln's arm earlier, but he was done holding back. He had to leave for the cursed realm. He couldn't afford not to.

Terry's mana shifted. In a tiny wave, the many transfixed ice droplets reshaped into sharp blades and then transfixed. The mass of ice blades proceeded to separate into two rotating planes.

Terry's second experience of being linked to a dungeon had allowed him another jump in mana foundation and control. It wasn't enough to wield the planes as a proper weapon – the conversion of mana to physical force was simply too horrendous – but it was enough to wield the planes to complement his oldest immovable object usages.

Pinning opponents in place. Cutting off their paths of movement.

Guiding opponents to injure themselves.

Mana roared through Terry's channels. Relying on his domain, bursts, and the plane drift was costly, but he didn't plan to drag this fight out any longer. If he had to hurt his parents, then he'd rather get it over with.

Terry flung a sequence of sharpened glass discs and throwing needles. He carefully timed his aspecting and spell activation to allow the obstacles into his moving planes. His opponents had no chance of knowing which of his moving planes the throwing weapons were going to join, which was another layer of difficulty for them to predict where they could safely dodge or move.

Terry fought with bitter resolve while inwardly being grateful for the presence of Jorg and Rafael. Rafael's powerful Heavenly Wolf Slash was a much quicker way to exploit the cave-in combination than anything Terry could have come up with and Jorg, as a mobile healer, bought Terry time to focus on taking out his opponents.

Both of them helped quicken the painful ordeal.

When the first anti-magic doll construct was completely destroyed, the three brothers increasingly held the upper hand.

When Terry pushed more violently against Bjorln, Isille couldn't afford to pester his companions with sneak attacks any further, which freed the two up to set up the destruction of the second anti-magic doll.

Brynn's constructs were of superior quality, but with Terry's mana touch, his disruption and shifting grinders, they were doomed to be whittled down with time. The powerful heavenly wolf resonance and the heaven's fury combination only accelerated their inevitable destruction.

Before long, Terry was facing his mother in close combat and using the same cave-in exploit they had used for the anti-magic doll constructs.

Terry used water or metal to lock her equipment into place, while Jorg followed Terry with a combination of Liquify Earth and Harden Earth spells to apply the same idea for Isille's feet.

Unexpectedly, Isille vanished from her outer layer of equipment and reappeared from the shadows with much lighter armor which she had worn underneath. A new set of short spears jumped into her hands from her storage items while she tried – and failed – to unleash binding spells from her imprints with Terry as the target.

Terry's disruption domain didn't allow the imprints to activate and he reflexively began forcing his mana onto the spears to transfix them with his spell. Divine barriers appeared to deflect the spears and buy time for his spell to overpower the spears' mana.

Terry had expected many things, but not for Isille to simply discard her spears at the last moment.

With wide eyes, he found himself staring at the extended index and middle finger poked upwards at him.

"You will take care of yourself this time, you hear me?!" His mother was pointing at his face with a glare that brought him right back to his childhood. "I don't care how strong you get, you'll always be our boy!" Isille gulped, closed her eyes, and walked away.

"And don't forget to watch the other knuckleheads," added his father from further behind while pointing his thumb at Jorg. Bjorln sighed, followed his wife, and took her hand in his own.

Terry subconsciously moved his gaze to where he knew his aunt and uncle to be. Brynn was glowering while Samuel appeared to try to soften her mood.

Terry could see Isille give a small nod towards Rafael and then, with a released breath he didn't know he was holding, his eyes fell on the many destroyed constructs and equipment pieces left on the arena floor.

I hope Auntie doesn't try to bill me for these…

Despite his many remaining worries, the resolution of this dreaded family match made him feel like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now he could allow himself some time to breathe and then he just had to prepare for leaving his native realm for the first time in his life.

***

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